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Chapter Eight - Pizza or Chinese?

SORRY SORRY SORRY pls hate on me in the comments like I totally deserve it man...FOUR mONTHS NO UPDATE?! WTF KAYLEE!

Sorry guys, idk I just didn't have enough drive in me so I was slow with updates but I'm picking up the pace now. Please excuse me for my absence.

ooh and HAPPY NEW YEAR guys!!

xx Kaylee

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Pizza or Chinese? Pizza. No! Chinese. Wait let me think about this longer. Pizza. I don’t know, why doesn’t he pick something I’m so confused right now.

Why the fuck am I so confused? Why?!

Definitely something wrong with me—pizza or Chinese isn’t a hard choice.

But Tim or Carl is.

No! I didn’t think that—it’s not even a criteria! It’s Carl Carl Carl. It can never be Tim after what he did to me. The abuse, and then the ignorance. Tim’s offering a hand for friendship? Okay. I won’t put that down. But I’m not going to get back with him; and the slightest show of alcohol or abuse from him, the friendship will be off too. Fine. Decided.

Now, pizza or Chinese?

“I think Chinese would be good.”

Tim nodded and took out his phone, obviously calling the food people. I took a proper look all around his house; I had spent so much time there in the past that I could spot out everything that had changed. But one thing hadn’t; a picture of the both of us on our first anniversary still hung on the wall beside our hallway. He hasn’t moved on. Fucking hell I hated him for turning to alcohol, I wonder what made him start in the first place. Then my thoughts drifted along, and I visioned a picture of Carl and I being taken on our first anniversary being together, cake smeared all over us but we were still wrapped in a passionate kiss.

Tim got off the phone; we just stood there, not knowing what to do. What did he even intend to do? Like ‘Ooh I’m going to invite my ex who I had a bad break up with and we’re going to be friends again! Yay!’

“Would you like something to drink? Please, make yourself comfortable.” He pointed towards the couch, fetching two glasses of water.

Now what?

“How have you been, Erik?” He said and joined me on the couch adjacent to mine. I started to see some of the old, nice Tim in his eyes, but I dismissed it because I didn’t want to hurt myself again.

“I’m alright, got a few more part time jobs, how about you?” I replied nonchalantly.

“I’m good too.” He nodded and took a sip of his water—I did the same.

It was stupid really, the conversations were broken and awkward, and it wasn’t like we left on a good note so we could joke around; I was still very hesitant and concerned about it. There must be a catch to the whole thing. I mean, why would he call me otherwise?

“hey”

I got a text from Carl! Trying not to show too much excitement in my body language, I texted “hey watcha up to?” back. After a few times texting back and forth in between my little chatter with Tim, the night seemed to pick up it’s pace. However, there was something on Tim’s face that I couldn’t figure out just yet. I didn’t think much of it, and he asked me what movie I wanted to watch.

I flicked through Tim’s movies and chose one that I hadn’t watched and didn’t seem too erotic. Once we settled down, we played the movie. Halfway through it, there was a knock on the door. It was the food. Good. I’m famished.