The Beautiful Truth

** 73

Watching Sawyer text on her iPhone for like, the 55th time that afternoon, Talyn felt the same burning flare of jealousy he used to get when she'd hang out with Jason Mandrino, only a thousand times more intense. She was texting Barton. About an hour ago, he'd finally drank enough to ask, and she'd finally drank enough to answer without telling him to mind his own business.

This further irritated him, as it only proved how awkward things had become. Pre-Official Visit and drunken cry-fest make-out situation, he'd have asked her who was texting her the second she got the first text after he showed up unannounced at her house.

To which her immediate and sober response would've been some variation of 'It's Barton Black; piss off.' And then they would have carried on as usual.

There was no real 'carrying on' as usual, except for their incredibly competitive darts games. But, even then it was weird—he couldn't touch her without seeming to scare her, so their usual silliness...gone.

Well, he'd expected this. Things would be weird for a while. If anyone could hold a grudge, it was Sawyer.

So, where they normally would have talked about nothing, or teased each other for missing their shots, they drank. Talyn was fairly certain neither one of them was driving home. He kind of got the feeling he wasn't the only one drinking in hopes of finally finding a level of intoxication that would make all of this feel OK.

That probably wouldn't happen though. At least not for him. Not after he'd lied to her in the truck. He wasn't sorry for everything.

He was sorry he didn't see why his transferring to Cal would've been unfair to her. He was sorry he'd never seen how uncomfortable she must've been throughout high school, and he was sorry for the way he'd treated her back then, stupidly thinking he was protecting her, or doing her a favor when really, he was just jealous and afraid to tell her how he really felt.

And that was the part he was not sorry for—telling her how he felt. It was true, he hadn't meant to make her cry. He'd been drinking, and so he'd admitted aloud how much it broke his heart, her seeming to pretend to love him at times. But he knew better—Sawyer Fitzgerald was not cruel, or spiteful, or manipulative. She did love him, but not the way he wanted her to, he understood that.

Most of all, he wasn't sorry he'd kissed her. He knew he'd probably never get the chance again, but it was worth not having to wonder anymore, what it would feel like...taste like...

Talyn was letting his imagination run away with him. He turned on the stool he was currently atop, to watch Sawyer, standing at the bar, typing away on that phone and completely oblivious to his attention. Ashley was at the other end of the bar, topping off two more Bud Lights. They were on special.

When Ashley turned back toward Sawyer with full glasses, his best friend slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, smiled a thank you at the bartender and turned back to walk toward him and the dart board.

Talyn, not wanting to get caught staring, slid off his stool and moved to erase the scores from their last round. She'd beaten him, again.

"So, you want me to start while you go get your beer?" Sawyer asked, smirking when he turned around.

For the first time that afternoon, Talyn smiled genuinely. He wondered if his face looked as relieved as he felt. He watched as Sawyer's smirk turned into a real smile.

"I'm kidding," she said, nodding at the two beers on the counter in front of her.

Talyn reached for one, happy to see her loosen up.

"No! Not that one!" She exclaimed suddenly, jokingly.

What the...? He laughed, wrinkling his nose at her, taking the other beer.

Sawyer laughed softly as he took a long pull off the top. "I guess I shouldn't tell you I spit in that one, huh?"

He knew she was kidding, and he rolled his eyes as she walked around to throw first. She playfully narrowed her eyes at him before stopping on the line, and firing off a triple 16 and two 18's.

"Christ, take it easy," he teased, fake-grumbling as she recorded her points on the scoreboard.

Sawyer turned around, rolled her eyes and handed him the only three plastic darts with working tips they'd been able to find in the zip-lock bag of dart-parts from behind the bar.

Pleasantly surprised by this change in the mood, he smiled widely. Despite, or was it because of...knowing he'd almost surely never get to do it again, right then all Talyn wanted to do...was kiss her.