Call Me Six

43: 'Its Cheesy, I Know' -Tobias

TOBIAS-

It's cheesy, I know, but this New Years felt like the fresh start I needed.

~

"You burnt the fucking pizza?! Tobias, can't you cook anything at all?!" Tris cackled from the kitchen counter, the anger drowned out by amusement.

"I can cook... You just distract me sometimes..."

"Distract?" She repeated, her eyebrows wriggling. "And how do I do that, Tobias?"

"Breathing," I muttered, not loud enough for her to hear. I started to clean up the burnt mess, throwing away the box and inedible food.

"Well... I'm getting ice cream. Since there's no pizza." She grumbled and jumped off the counter and waltzed over to the freezer. "Ben and Jerry never let me down, Tobias..." she said, a slight hint of playfulness seeping in. "Next time, let me use the oven."

~

She was passed out. Her small body sprawled out across the bed, tangled in the pale blue blankets. She looked so peaceful asleep. Messy, but peaceful. She was beautiful - and she didn't even know it.

Sometimes I find myself just wondering what life might have been if I didn't screw around back in Chicago. In my idealised version of it, we'd have stayed together. Been happy.

Maybe she wouldn't be on this one-way road to self destruction. She has this idea of heroism, ingrained in her mind. She thinks she's helping someone - by destroying herself.

She doesn't hear what they say. She doesn't hear it.

The countless drunken tales of one-night-stands and quick shags, that have been told in the tiled walls of the boys changing rooms are terrifying. If I were to carve out the names of all the story tellers, in those four walls, there would be no walls. Every week there's more and more, piling up in a contest of "Who'd you think she preferred?"

I feel like smashing their skulls in. Screaming that she's not just a piece of meat - some easy game. I tried it once, they called me a jealous-friend-zoned-wanker, well, Tate did at least. So I gave him a black eye.

She doesn't understand the extent of her charade. She just brushes of all the insults like they're dust. But dust builds up over time. It will accumulate in thousands, just waiting to be disturbed. But that's when it explodes, one touch and it spreads everywhere, coating everything it touches and making the air unbreathable. It chokes you. Silences you.

They'll destroy her. No one, not even the most ruthless of us can stand back and just take a mountain of undeserving hate. Tris will crumble. And I don't want to see that happen.

The thing that scares me the most: what if she becomes another Sarah Linney; what if she can't handle it?