The day after--a short story.

The Day After

Before:

I woke up tired and angry. Why did I wake up tired? Because I was up until past one. Why did I wake up angry? Because my boyfriend and I got in an intense argument last night. A lot of things were said that I'm sure neither of us are proud of.

Me (6:03 AM): Hey sweetie I know we said some things that we're not happy about but can we talk?

Nothing.

Me (6:06 AM): Hello?

Radio silence.

Me (6:10 AM): Fine, whatever.

It's sort of ridiculous for me to get mad after what had already happened last night and if I was going to do anything, it should be apologise. I take a minute and read some of the messages I sent him last night.

Me (11:20 PM): You're so fucking stupid for vaping again what's even the point!

Me (11:34 PM): I hate you I hate you I hate you how dare you.

Me (11:48 PM): You deserve someone to break your saxophone.

Me (12:01 AM): Don't you pull that suicide bullshit on me to try to make me feel bad.

Me (12:05 AM): Fine just fucking ignore me. Maybe you should just do it.

It occurs to me now that it may have been unwise to send some of those things, he's always had a problem with depression and saying things like that is asking for trouble; but, he would never do something like that, he loves me.

I go about my daily routine of getting ready: taking a shower, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, etc. to distract myself from the pain I feel and hope that he will reply while I'm getting ready.

I don't do a great job of distracting myself. All while I do anything, the words that I typed the previous night burn in my mind with great clarity: "I hate you I hate you I hate you."

Our relationship is probably irreparably damaged.

I finish getting ready and check my phone. Still nothing.

He's either ignoring me or still asleep. We were up late, maybe he overslept.

I hop in my car and drive to school. Normally he would tell me if he wants me to pick him up but this time, since he said nothing, I keep driving.

Once in the building the very first person I encounter is a very pissed off best friend. "You really fucked him up, you know?"

"Excuse me, I'm running late." First obvious lie. I am there fifteen minutes before the first bell.

"Oh, so you think you can just ignore us and we'll go away, huh? You're wrong. You will regret everything you said last night. He takes a huff of his vape and blows it in my face. His old favorite from when he still vaped. Cotton candy.

First Hour:

I still haven't received any texts from him before first hour starts and he is not sitting in his spot.

"He just overslept," I think to myself.

I can't help this dark feeling, though, that something much larger is wrong. Very, very wrong.

The teacher gets up to take attendance and when nobody says "here" upon getting to his name, the teacher asks if anyone knows where he is.

"He probably overslept," I say. "He and I were talking late last night."

My anger has evaporated into a dull ache and worry that things are permanently ruined between us.

"Yes, well, today is sort of a busy work day anyhow. His absence is not a big deal today."