I'm in Paris. Next update will take a while.
There is: There's
There are: There're
Never use "there's" for plural nouns. Say "there're people" or "there are chapters," never "there's people" or "there's chapters."
People break this rule all the time because "there're" is harder to say. Many linguists will feel that what people actually say is more important than the rules we make up, but whatever you choose, choose deliberately.
Real? So much for the idea that he knew what it meant. "Kirstie didn't tell you, did she?" She talked to him, and she understood that it was all just a coldhearted lie to drive him away, but if he thinks it was real, she must have let him believe the easier explanation: that I was upset and angry, but also crushed with sadness, so I turned to him for comfort, and, feeling close to him again and unable to contain my passion, kissed him. Guilt and conflicting feelings, in this version of events, forced me to break the kiss, tell him we missed our chance, and shut him out. Perhaps that's the most generous way to look at it. It's the perspective that doesn't really capture my cruelty. Scott's delusional optimism is back.
"Kirstie didn't tell me what?"
"Maybe she had the right idea. You wouldn't have come if... You're stuck here for a bit, though, so this isn't a great time to explain." We have to get through this gondola ride, then dinner, then whatever else comes up before he goes back home. Maybe I should just cover a few basics for now, then break the truth just before he leaves, or, better yet, over the phone after he's gone. "Just let me be clear. It's not what you thought, and I don't want to kiss you again."
"Wait, what do you think I thought?"
"That it was a moment of weakness for me or something. But Sc—"
"No," he interrupts.
"No? What, then?" It doesn't make sense.
He looks over the edge of the vessel, and I see a flicker of desire darken his countenance. His fingers dip into the water. It's not brilliant, clear, emerald seawater, not in person. It's repulsive. Nobody swims in it. Nobody even touches it, but Scott doesn't seem to mind. "I told myself it must be just another dream." My stomach sinks. "How could it have been anything else?" He wanted to know if it was real for me, but it wasn't real for him.
"But it wasn't."
He nods. "You gave me a taste of what you thought I wanted, and you took it away."
"Because I'm done with you."
"You don't ever want to see me again."
But I do, and I can't stop, and I thought maybe if I could make Scott never want to see me again it would be easier. "I thought I never would, yet here you are. Scott, if that wasn't enough to drive you away, I don't know what else to do. Do you have a new boyfriend I could lead astray? What if I told you Alex really did cheat with me? I'm beginning to understand why he lied." Scott hurt him so badly that Alex wanted nothing to do with him ever again. He wanted to be free.
"Mitch, you broke up with him, he's dating someone else, and you hate me. You can drop the pretense."
"He's... who?"
"Jake."
Wow. That's why Jake said it was for the best that Alex didn't go to him. Maybe Alex already suspected Jake liked him, and that's why he stayed away after leaving me. I threatened to scalp Jake with a rusty fork if he didn't help Alex, though, and now they're in a relationship. Great. Way to go, me. I suppose I'm supposed to be happy for them. I'll work on that some other time.
