The Fault In Our Minds

Fault 15

Instead of doing interviews I have a coffee date. The interviews however are done in the coffeehouse I ventured into this morning. I get to keep an eye on everything. Ash seemed to be doing well interviewing. I seemed to be failing on my date. My eyes couldn't meet his. I focused mostly on Josh.
He asks,"So how long have you lived in Connecticut?"
His name is Jeff. Why did this Jeff like me?
"Oh no I don't live here. I live in New York." He doesn't need the borough.
"So you're just out here for your project? Is it like a school project?"
I shrug and think for my excuse. "No not really."
He annoys me. I wonder what his fault is. I shouldn't be asking myself other people's faults if they aren't being interviewed.
"So Pacifica what are your hobbies?"
Yes I lied about my name. "Let's see. Cutting my thighs and crying myself to sleep." I hope that turns him off.
"Could you not joke like that? My sister committed suicide."
Goals...
"Why?" I wonder out loud.
"She never told anyone."

I chase him away. He thinks I'm head over heels with him and tells me not to take it serious. If only he knew I lied about almost everyhing I said. I don't get up from the high seats. I sip my water through the straw. Josh slips over into the empty seat.
"How are your thighs?"
"They hurt of course. But that's nothing new."
Josh picks up my hand and holds it to his cheek. I feel my cheeks lighten up. Why do I like him so much now? Why do I like him so much all of a sudden?
"Ryan, why do you think we have brains?"
"So we can use it during every useless moment" I answer.
His white teeth bit his bottom lip. "Fuck it." And leans over to kiss my cheek. I hide in my glass of water.
"W-w-what was that for?" I stutter.
"Just for being cute and hopefully regretting this morning."
I react oddly and pull out my laptop to avoid him. I'm stabbing the keyboard responding to emails. Josh pours his eyes into me. Mine refuse to stick to the screen. It wouldn't hurt to avoid eye contact but it stung to look at him.
"Hey Ryan?" Josh says with a voice of tease.
"Yes."
"Happy Thanksgiving." This time he pushes my laptop close and leans over to plant a kiss on my lips. I react much worse; pushing my seat back so far and hard my head slams against the floor.

I awake in the back seat of a mini van. The seats are familiar so the mini van must belong to Josh. I sit up and rub my aching back. My head was also aching. I could remember the reason why.
"Finally you wake up. You had us worried sick." My vision is blurry and my hearing doesn't help recognize the person. I blink eyelashes out of my sight.
"I thought a simple kiss would kill you." The voice comes back to me. It belongs to Ash.
"Stacey adds, "Seriously we thought you'd never wake up." I don't reply to any of the comments because I notice we're on the turnpike.
"What are you guys doing? It's only Friday."
"It's Sunday," Josh tells me. "You hit your head on metal so you might not remember anything."
"So I was our for Thanksgiving and the weekend" I say in awe.
They all turn around and say, "Yes."
I sit back. They probably waited for me to come through Friday and Saturday until they decided to start driving home Sunday. I sort of enjoyed this short break. Christmas would be closing in. Though I doubt mom will let me out for Christmas.

In Staten Island, Josh and I are the only ones left. I think he does that purposely. Not that it's a problem for me. There's a name for people like me. I don't know just yet but there is a name for me. He pulls up to my house.
"I enjoyed most parts of this trip. Except the painful part." I don't respond but try and get out. I try and fail. Two things made me want to go into that house.
First was the sight of the for sale sound. I have lived in this house my whole life and I refuse to leave. Second was the person walking inside. I can only see their back but the body figure was fresh in my memory. That lady from the supermarket.
"Could you wait here for a bit?"
I'm out the of the mini van before he responds. I'm up the steps in seconds and inside in milliseconds. I look into the living room and there are the two people I have come to hate.
"Why are we moving? I'm gone for a week and you want to move."
"Sweetheart" the both of them say.
I point to my stalker. "And you don't call me sweetheart. I don't know you."
"Ryan, we're only moving to a different house. It's closer to your school," mom says. Okay a little more acceptable. Mon stands up politely. "You found yourself here from Connecticut please find your way out my daughter's life. You're delusional."
I walk her outside. She's glaring at me but not hatefully. With sorrow. There's a space where the mini van was. I guess he was in a hurry. That disappoints me.
She states,"Ryan, trust and believe me. I am your mother. Your love map is messed up because of your childhood." I turn around and close the door. I hate being rude. Mom is in front of me with her hands on her stomach.