may shatter on impact (tronnor)

66. Ice & Like They Have A Clue

The first thing Mia did when I finally picked up the phone was yell. My heartbeat echoed her words as she screamed into the darkness of my room at 4:00 AM. "Troye, what the hell?"

"I - "

"Don't talk to me! Troye, what the actual fuck did - "

"Mia - "

"SHUSH. Troye! You have no idea the shit that's gone down here since someone found that article - "

"I didn't - "

"TROYE. Let me speak!" I don't say anything. "Anyways. Even - Eventually, we figured out that you probably didn't say any of that - "

"But I did - "

"Wait, what?"

"Well, kind of - "

"Troye, what the hell? 'It's not that hard'? Do you know - "

"MIA. LET ME EXPLAIN." She doesn't say a word, shocked by the way my voice rose and fell as I listened to the silence after my words. "Sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be sorry, just explain," she said calmly.

"M-mia. I - I did say all of that stuff, but - she took all - all of my words and, um, um, she put it in... in the wrong...the wrong...."

"Context?" Mia suggested.

"Y-yeah. Context. She put it in the wrong context. T-the last part, I was in the middle of, uh, running out of the room, and she took that and I never said i-i-it was easy. Never, Mia you have to understand - "

"I do, Troye. But we all thought that you have actually said it, that it was easy, and all of us have had such a hard time, and then to have our old best friend lie about everything and completely ruin everything we've worked to become - "

"I - I know - "

"No, you don't, Troye!" She's hysterical; I can hear her sobs racking through her body, the constant tap of her feet against the ground. "You moved away! The rest of us are still here, we still have to walk through these goddamned hallways - I still have Child Care in that stupid fucking room - I still walk on my boyfriend's fucking blood stains every damn day, Troye! You have no idea what it's like to hear the echo of his gun everytime you look at the person next to you; what it's like to see a fucking memorial for everyone you lost that day while trying to get to English; what it's like to see all the empty desks where your best friend should be; to sit alone at lunch because everyone you love is dead! Troye, you got to start over, the rest of us are stuck here reliving that day every moment of every day - "

"No, I do get it, Mia! I do get what it's like to hear his gunshot every day; what it's like to feel the empty spaces where the people you love should be; what it's like - "

"Why are we fighting, Troye?" she cuts in, her voice breaking with her sobs, like the waves crashing against broken rocks tossing dead and suicidal bodies around like rag dolls. "Y-you do - I know how far y-you've come, it's them, i-it's her, it's the rest of the world who d-doesn't understand. I just - Troye, the article came out and everyone fell apart, because I can get through Child Care without crying now, and Kayla can see Jason's stupid bow ties in just the color red instead of the color of blood, and the tables are all pushed together to get rid of the missing spaces, and Carson can drop textbooks without triggering fifteen panic attacks, and Lizzie is painting rainbows instead of tombstones again; and Julian isn't late to history because he's taking the long way around the memorials anymore, and you get the point, but, Troye, you took all the time we put into getting here and completely - "

Her words are like fog, and I am underwater, and I don't understand it when her voice snaps and she stops talking.

"Mia?"

She sniffles, and I can hear the phone being dropped onto her pillows. "Y-yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I - I didn't say mean it the way that she turned it into, b - but I'm sorry."

"I - I think that I know you are. I just...I need s-someone to be mad at."

"You c-can be mad a-at me, Mi - Mia." Our words stumble over each other, like rocks chasing each other down the stream, like the cold falling apart on the concrete, like ice shattering on impact.

"Y-you don't deserve that. You never did anything wrong."

"No, it's okay. I - I promise."

She doesn't speak, the silence like cold ice resting between us like a concrete wall. 

"It's okay. I'm mad at me, too."