Ivy

(xiv) august

          "SO, I WAS thinking," began Aaron. He stopped briefly to take a sip of his black coffee. Ivy wondered idly how anyone could enjoy such hot, toe-curling bitterness - and on a summer's day, no less. "Maybe going to therapy would be good for me. Hell knows my parents need it too, but maybe they're right, just this once." He flashed a sudden, out-of-place grin. "Bet you never thought you'd hear me say that."

Ivy smirked. "Aaron Montclair, angsty no more." She'd meant it as a funny comment, but was truly kind of thrilled about the prospect. Him happy made her happy. Maybe a little too happy for secondhand happiness. "I think it would be good for you too. Plus, you have a whole gap year to work things out. You've got time."

"True." He smiled at her; she smiled back, without thought. She couldn't not smile when he did. It was weird.

Things had started looking up again when he'd turned up, but occasionally Ivy would catch herself doubting everything. There was only so much up you could go before you came crashing back down. Then again, things had only gotten bad in the first place because of specific circumstances, including Aaron leaving for months at a time. Now that he was back for good, Ivy felt lighter in her chest, and everything was just less effort.

Maybe only when he was around were things good, if not great. That was how best friends made you feel. Right?

"But," he added.

No. Clara was her best friend too, but it wasn't the same thing. Ivy couldn't explain it.

The café bell jingled as a customer left; she snapped out of her reverie. "But?"

"I'll only go if you quit with that," he said, eyeing the cigarette box on the table, beside her lemonade.

She looked at it. "Oh, it's empty. I stopped last week. Must've gotten it out out of habit."

"Okay, but... why are you keeping an empty cigarette pack in the first place?"

Ivy pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I'm keeping it as a part of a memoir. A reminder. I want to be able to look back fondly at that time in my life that I was a bit of a fuck-up." She dimpled.

Aaron let out a laugh. "Cute. That's some deep Augustus Waters-type shit right there."

"What can I say?"

"Always the sentimental fool, Ivy-lee."

"Nah, I think you'll find that's you. I may be sentimental, but you're the fool."

She tilted her head and looked on smugly, as the boy opposite her rolled his eyes.

* * * * *

Ivy pressed a finger to the doorbell. Nervously tapped her foot a little. Apparently, no amount of television dramas or rom-coms could prepare her for this. The door clicked open.

The very person she was looking for answered. "Iv," Caleb said, surprised. He placed an arm on the doorframe. "You didn't say you were coming."

She wanted to recoil from the situation. She wanted to leave.

His gaze shifted past her, to a point at the bottom of his driveway. "Who's he?"

"A friend. Um, listen, I don't want to come in. I just... I think we should break up."

Disbelief crossed his face. His jaw clenched, all anger and vexation; no hurt. "Are you serious?"

She took a deep breath. Just say what needs to be said to get this over with. "I've been unfair to you. I was in a bad place when we got together, and it was fun for a while, but -"