Pencils and Pool Water (Complete)

Chapter Eleven

At this time, I just wanted to die. Not in a suicidal way, but just... Ugh! I just suddenly wanted death. 

"Get out from under there, Simon," Molly's voice is neither harsh nor soft, but there's an element of emotionless-ness. 

I wiggle out, feeling awkward. After I stood up, we all stared at each other in an uneasy silence. I felt my disbelief towards Molly and Gwen like a stone in my stomach, and I was so tick at the way they had still been talking about me that I didn't have much to say.

"How long have you been here?" Calvin asked, almost an element of awe in his voice. 

"I never even left the house, really," I bite back. 

"The step ladder?" Gwen asked, eyes looking over my rumpled clothes, and the cuff of my jeans were a little damp. I nodded, trying not to make eye contact. She looked so upset with the situation, and I wasn't ready to just forgive everybody.

"Well, no one's going to sleep yet," Molly sighed. 

I just stared at the floor, rubbing my eyes. 

Calvin's eyes were on me, and they seemed more brown than green. He just looked... Sad. 

No, I thought bitterly. You can't just be sad and then make everything better because you feel bad about what you said.

However, as always, my body betrayed me. I felt my heart clench, and he wasn't even an arms length away. He could just....

"You can sleep here, tonight. You know, if you want." 

I knew that was code for, "We should talk here," and the girls picked up on it too. 

Too tired to fight and too upset to start a talk, I sit on the bed, just exhausted. We sit in silence while Calvin looks everywhere but me, and I start to feel sick, not knowing how we're going to recover. I can't start with the "you love me" comment because it just hurts too much that he knew, whether from Gwen or not, and just... What? Used me? Pitied me? 

I felt my stomach drop like I was on a roller coaster, closing my eyes, and I open my mouth, on the verge of an anxiety attack:

"So... Over-dramatic, huh?"

As much as I hated to admit it, Gwen and Molly were right. 

We needed to talk. 

He answers, his tone unreadable. "Yeah. I'm sorry about that." 

I suck my breath in as he lays down, opening my eyes. "Is that all?"

"Is that all what?" He retorts, not missing a beat. 

"Is that all you're sorry for?" I can hear the pre-cry lump starting in my throat, and I hate it. God, I just want to be angry and to be done with being so sensitive all the time. 

Calvin catches my eye, holding my stare. "No," he says quietly, his lips barely moving. "Of course not, Simon." He turned his head an inhaled his pillows, oblivious to the use of my name sending tingles through my veins. 

Suddenly, I heard his voice in the back of my mind, angry and dripping with false innocence. "Why would I throw a football at Simon?" 

I cleared my throat. "I know that..." I swallowed. Jesus, this was hard. "I know that I'm not the easiest person to be around, but-"

"Simon you don't have to-" I put my hand up to keep him from talking, trying for a glare of my own. 

Calvin took this opportunity to brush his fingers along the small of my back- absent mindedly- and I had to chase down my last train of thought.