Under Glass

Chapter 23 - One Step Forward, One Step to the Side

She let out a breath of relief or misery, she didn't know which, when she cracked open the door to her apartment. She basically lived alone now, since Traylor was still dating her colleague, Bill, who Caitlin hadn't met yet. That fact was tragic and telling. It meant they were still moving apart and that Traylor didn't want him to meet her. Caitlin thought it was because she would embarrass her. Somehow, she was so broken that she just couldn't bring herself to care enough. 

"Hell, I know I'm broken," Caitlin said into the void of their apartment. Throwing her bag down on the little table by the kitchen, she switched the light on.

"I don't know how to fucking fix it."

Caitlin, having long outgrown the need for a mixer, pulled the bottle of Crown out of the cabinet and poured herself a glass over ice. She turned on the radio to fill the silence taunting her. She used to hum, she missed humming, but the thing about humming is it's cheerful, casual and carefree. She was none of those things. She'd probably never hum again.

Kicking off her flats, she took a long pull from her drink and sunk into the overstuffed couch. This had been her routine every Friday night since she'd moved to Atlanta. She turned on the TV, but muted it and listened to the music instead. Her thoughts of Chris, of her family, and of James drifted through the air and swirled around where she sat. A familiar song came on and she almost smiled at the memory that appeared in her mind. It was of her and James playing strip poker in her room after a football game last fall. She'd lost.

Her sporadic and warring feelings switched quickly, causing her mental whiplash. She hated James. He'd fucked up her entire life by blaming her. Everyone blamed her. She blamed herself.

Pushing herself off the couch, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself another drink, which she started before she sat down again. Fuck him, she thought, as she drank her second drink in less than two minutes. Why was it her fault he couldn't handle normal life? Why had she taken on the responsibility of his entire existence? Everyone has been dumped before, right? Why was she going to have to live with this guilt for the rest of her life? The rest of her life she will have to deal with the thought she killed someone... but it's the truth. This was her life now.

Reaching underneath the couch, she pulled out the bag of marijuana she'd hidden there this weekend. She leaned over and put the papers on the table then thought better of it and opened the back door. She exhaled into the brisk air. The early cold snap in the weather was a welcome relief from the humid, hot, southern August air.

After she rolled the joint she sat on the porch because she knew if she smoked in the house, Traylor would know. Slowly, she inhaled and exhaled through the joint. The music danced through the night air attempting to soothe her. No one was here to judge her, which she wanted, but she felt alone and afraid. When you're alone there is no one. Not one person that can say "it'll be okay." She knew things weren't going to be okay, but she wanted someone to fucking lie to her.

Her eyes fought to stay open. The marijuana and alcohol did what she wanted and she fell into her bed still wearing her work clothes.

********

The next day, Caitlin turned her radio down a bit in her office. The walls were beige, her carpet brown, everything was so drab it went with her mood. Keeping with her morning ritual, she ate a toasted bagel while she opened constituents' letters to the Congressman. After she finished that, she prepared a summary of any important points raised in the letters, then she turned to reading every newspaper published by major cities with topics the Congressman would want to know about. She cut out important articles and faxed them to the office in Washington. Yep, faxed. When she'd started, she was scanning them and sending via email, which the Congressman told Caitlin's boss he didn't like.

A guy who worked in the office next to her appeared in her doorway and asked her how her weekend was.

"Fine, and yours?" She couldn't remember his name and unconsciously shrugged to herself.

"Really good, thanks." He leaned against the frame of the door. "My girlfriend and I went to concert at Centennial park, it was good."

"Good." She was being a total asshole, but she didn't care what this guy and his girlfriend did this weekend.

"What did you do?" Still leaning on the door frame, he seemed apprehensive of entering her office, but wouldn't leave either.

"Do you want to come in..." Shit what was his name?

"Okay." He sat in the chair across from her and waited. "So... this weekend?"

"Oh," she responded blankly, buying time. "Some friends and I went to Midtown and hung out there."

"Where?"

Fuck.

"Just at one of my friend's place."

"Sounds fun." His brown eyes were warm, his smile genuine.

It was like all the oxygen was sucked from the room. Any attempt at conversation died a horrific death while they sat staring at each other. Finally, her phone rang and broke the awkward exchange. She smiled an apology while she secretly was doing a dance in her mind. Still the guy sat there, so she motioned that she had to take the call.

As soon as the guy shuffled through her office door, she stood up, keeping her head so that she could listen, and moved to where her foot could kick her door closed.

Traylor was prattling on about something, but Caitlin couldn't keep up.

"Wait, what?"

"Bill's going to be out of town this weekend. You want to go?"

"Go where?" She asked as she sat back in her seat and focused on the call.

"A girl who works with me has a house at the lake about an hour from here. A bunch of us are going this weekend, you wanna go?"

Yes.

No.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Alright, I'll swing by and pick you up Friday. I'll be at Bill's until then."

"Okay," she said again.

Caitlin hung up and refocused her attention on needing to complete her ritual. She didn't appreciate it when people interrupted, especially just for useless small talk.

Rushing to finish her now cold bagel, she read her personal email. She opened an email from Sophia. It was an invitation to the annual UGA Homecoming bonfire. According to the email, she'd made "purchases" for the party and she knew Caitlin would enjoy them. The only problem was that it was this weekend, and she had just told Traylor she would go to the lake. Oh well, she thought, Tray will get over it. She emailed Sophia she would definitely be there.