Eternity's Ending (our version of events) - Book One

Xander

"Is there a body I should be helping you hide or an alibi we should be working on?" Cassie asks on Day 6 of the romantic comedy marathon taking place in her living room.

"What?" I hear her talking but didn't catch a word she said.

"I love having you around but I mean, you're here watching what you affectionately refer to as "horror" movies," she does one too many air quotations, "and you haven't so much as sighed heavily to indicate your growing displeasure with the plot. You hate these movies. This particular one made you walk out of the theatre. But you've sat through them all without any resistance for the past week," she thinks this over.

"Wait...did you kill Vincent?" Cassie stares at me like I actually need to answer.

"No. Wait. No, don't answer that. It's better if I don't know that way I don't have to lie. Okay, so you've been here all week long. Yes, Officer, she has been with me all week long. Oh no, Officer, we haven't been out of the house. We have only been as far as my bathroom to pee. You won't find any blood stains on my carpet," despite Cassie's attempt at different lines and tones, she sounds rehearsed and very much like she's lying, even though she is actually telling the truth.

"Cass, seriously?" I can still see her wheels turning. "Okay. First of all, I wouldn't dream of casting you as an accomplice in my murder plot. You are a shitty liar. So shitty, in fact, you are now struggling to tell the truth because you feel like it might be a lie. Secondly, I have a list of movies I'm going to make you sit through as revenge and I don't want to hear so much as a peep from you when that time comes. And lastly, what possible reason would I have for killing Vincent?"

She is checking off reasons in her head.

"I didn't kill Vincent!"

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't put it past you. You're pretty fiery."

"I tell you what I am going to kill, the writer of this script. Seriously, how can you watch this trash? This shit is not real life," I watch the light bulb go off in her head and know she has put it all together.

Finally! Shit! Can I please stop watching these lame ass movies now?

"Why does it matter, it's not the life you want anyway, right?" the last word is slow to form as if Cassie is giving me my answer but leaving room for me to decide against it.

"All I'm saying is why sell the fantasy? Why lead someone to believe that he always shows up, no matter how you've treated him or the things you've said? The truth is he doesn't love you enough to not go searching for someone who will treat him better. No one loves an asshole."

"Plenty of people love assholes. Why do you think the world is filled with so many bad relationships?"

I smile uncomforted by Cassie's words.

"Those people don't love assholes either; they love not being alone. Which is a shitty existence, if you ask me."

When I look up to see her response I find her moving from her chair to the opposite end of the couch I am sitting on. She freezes mid-step when she realizes she's caught. Cassie shows me her hands in the same sign of trust negotiators do with hostage takers. Cassie knows we are no longer talking about the movie. She also knows pretending we are is the only way to keep this conversation going.

"So maybe he's not loving an asshole or at least not a complete asshole. Maybe he sees something beneath the asshole exterior. Maybe he sees who she truly is and not just the person she feels safe presenting to the world," I hate the hope Cassie is gassing me up with; the fairytale she is proposing.

I rub a hand across both eyes. I don't do rose-colored glasses; I live in the real world.

"Who you show yourself to be, consistently, is generally who you are. An asshole doesn't change its stripes or whatever. And like I said, no one loves an asshole."