Me Too

3

Soon enough, the boys arrived at our front door. They walked in after two quick knocks, and Sofia had barely enough time to step away from me, breaking our make out seamlessly and unpinning me from the counter. A sharp glare between me and her delicate apology was shared as she tip toed toward our guests.

She greeted both of them, offering a hug and an invitation in. When she tucked herself under Thomas's arm, he droned a response to her welcome. It seemed like a fond gesture more fit for a funeral service than a jubilant reunion. Cameron gave no more than a wave and refused Sofia's touch completely. He doesn't seem quite right, but then again, are any of us?

I slowly came around the L shaped counter and leaned over through the gap in cabinetry to make my presence known from the other side of the kitchen. My hair fell over my shoulders and hid the fresh fading mark Sofia accidentally left on my pale skin. I hate myself for that, I can't conceal the slightest blush or faintest hickey- she didn't even do anything for either of them to appear. My scars can literally be written on my skin, I'm sure people notice. "Hey, guys."

Cameron came by and slid next to me, copying my elbow resting. He muttered into the back of his hand, "How are you?"

"I'm doing wonderful," I say cheekily, "You?"

"I've been better." He slumped forward, planting both hands on the light blue linoleum. He groaned and groaned. "It just sucks that I am eighteen and I have gotten myself nowhere since graduation. Days keep flying by and I haven't done anything worthwhile. I can't even get a girlfriend."

"How tragic, Cam." I pat his shoulder. "Such hard life choices fresh out of high school." Just a few days ago, his girlfriend dumped him for a kid going into the tenth grade. Cameron wears the pain like a rotting sweater. At least that is the worst thing that has ever happened to him, I'd never wish anything worse on a person.

He made a weasel chipper with his teeth and grumbled playfully. Cam shook his head and began wandering the floor to the living room.

Thomas looked around in dull curiosity, his eye catching mine. "Dove," he greeted, tipping his head slightly.

"Hey, Thomas."

He laid his gaze on my day dreaming girlfriend- she was very lost in thought. Maybe she is thinking of me. Probably not. "This is a beautiful flat, Sofia."

"Thanks. We didn't decorate, but it still feels like home. In an odd way." She has never liked beaches and neither have I, so the design is just a relaxing bother. Soothing, yet antagonistic; fitting, yet wrong. As long as we are together it doent matter where we live. Without so much as a nod in response, Sofia yearned for more in their interaction. "Uh, how is living in Los Angeles for you so far?"

"So, you did end up moving here permanently?" I ask, trying to keep up.

"Yeh," he accented. "I rented down o'er on main. Little place. Not'ing fancy, just four walls. Enough for just me."

Sofia laughed silently to herself, interjecting before I had a chance to dribble more words into the scene. "I was over there on Wednesday, helping him, Dove. I asked if you wanted to come unpack and decorate. Remember?"

"I thought you said you were holding off on the move, Thomas." It was the last thing we spoke about before we broke up. He was hoping we'd get settled in together, but that obviously didn't happen as here we stand.

He shrugged his broad shoulder, scoffing. "Thought I'd be in town for work more here. Wasn't worth it t' stay in the UK."

"I see." I pull my sleeves to my hands under my chin to support my head as I bow over the table. I'm barely awake. I wouldn't wish a day with Sofia away, but all I want is to sleep- peacefully sleep. Despite being in luxurious hotel rooms night after night and finally sharing a bed with the woman I love, I have been restless.