13 reasons why ; conler

; tape 4

-still in connor's perspective-

i rubbed my weary eyes, remembering what had happened the day before. i couldn't believe i actually talked to tyler, to his face. maybe he'll take me back soon.

-tyler's perspective-

i turned off the tv, after a sleepless night. once connor left, i couldn't sleep or eat, i could barely bring myself to move. the minute i heard his voice, i felt home again. sadly, when he walked out the door, i was left in an icy, lonely abyss. 

i walked to the counter, opened the box of tapes, and pulled out tape 4. there was no clear point in listening to the 3rd; i heard it in person the day before. today i decided to drive as i listened, in hopes it would clear my head. when i stepped out of the door, a cool breeze hit my face. i walked toward my car, opened the door, and put the tape in as i shut the door. connor's voice filled the air as i began to drive.

"i remember when we met when i was 17.

i was walking to the bus stop, on my way to the library when i saw a small boy with light brown hair. that small boy turned out to be you. i was immediately fascinated with the presence you gave off, so i walked over. 

"hi there. i saw you from over there, and i couldn't help but come over. what might your name be?"

"tyler. tyler oakley. and yours?"

"i'm connor. i live in that apartment building over there."

"i remember your face as you told me your name; you had a sly smile, and there was a sparkle in your eye. you were cunning, i could tell from the way you stood alone."

i stopped and paused the tape. i couldn't bear to hear one more word of connor describing me. i was so young, so naive. he saw me as so much more than i was. 

the moment i paused the tape, a figure caught my eye from across the street. i pulled my car over, and noticed that it was connor. he looked small, frail. i could see purple circles like the moon underneath his heavy eyes, his clothes looking like they had been worn for days. he sat by himself at a table outside of the coffee shop, holding a large mug of what i assumed was the strongest coffee they had; one creamer and a sugar and a half mixed in with the dark drink. before i knew what i was doing, i stepped out of the car, and found myself walking over to him. i sat down.

his eyes lit up. 

"hey" he said, the word slow and unsure.

"hey."

"what are you doing here?"

"i found myself driving around this morning, and saw you sitting here. for some reason, i decided to come over to you. i guess you have a sort of pull."

there was a long silence as he sat and looked at me. i looked at everything but him. the dark, wire table we sat at, the sun overhead. 9am. 

"i'm sorry, tyler." the words spilled out. i didn't respond, just continued to look at the mop of loose curls on his head. he hadn't washed his hair in days. 

"i don't know what i was doing. i was thinking of you the whole time, of you and only you. i  felt guilty through all of it. i'm so, so-"

i cut him off. 

"the thing i can't understand is how you broke my heart and all you can think to do is say you're sorry! how could you see me in another man, then use that to your advantage? what is this to you, a game? am i just an experiment?" the words fell out of my mouth before i could think about what i was saying. instead of anger, all i showed was sadness. every word forced itself out with all the loneliness i had felt in the past days.

"what can i do except say i'm sorry?" he looked so helpless, so alone.  

"you could've never done it in the first place." we sat and stared at each other, the sound of pointless chatter fade as we locked our eyes on each other. 

"i think i should go." i stood up and began to leave, when connor caught my arm. 

"please, stay. we can fix this."

"don't touch me."

with that, i opened my car door and drove away. i didn't look back.