Fix You.

[17]

When Dallas answered the door, he was clad in boxers and a tank top.

"Yeah? Shit, why are your eyes red? Are you high?" he asked.

"No, dumbass." I snapped.

"Then why are your eyes red?" he asks, putting his hand on the door frame, blocking my way in. I duck under his arm, and step into his cluttered apartment.

"Wait, were you crying?" He asks.

I sit on his couch and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Yes, stupid!" I scream.

"No don't have to yell at me, damn." he sits down on the other end of the couch, lighting a cigarette.

"Want one?" he asks.

"Yeah." I light it and take a long drag.

He slouches and rests his arm on the back of the couch.

"So you're just gonna barge into my apartment, say you were crying, smoke my cigarette and not tell me anything?" he seems annoyed.

I turn to him.

"Steve told me he liked me." I said.

It didn't phase him.

"And?"

"And I told him I didn't like him, because I like you, and it hurt him."

"And you were crying because?"

"Because I hurt my best friend!" I screamed. "He was the person I could be myself around, and now it's never gonna be like that again. It's gonna be awkward, and we're gonna avoid each other." I said, starting to cry.

"It's not your fault he likes you." Dally said.

"Jesus Dal! You're an asshole!" I said. I got up and started to leave.

"No, come on, Heather." he grabbed my wrist. He turned me around and held on to my shoulders.

"I'm not good with this stuff, I'm a guy. Sorry." he said.

I was still crying.

"And I think I'm supposed to do this when girls are crying." He pulled me into a hug, and stroked my hair. I looked up at him, and kissed him. We started to make out as we made our way to the bedroom.

• • • • • •

I woke up in the middle of the night, to Dally sitting up in bed. Again. But this time I didn't follow his orders to lie back down. I made him look at me.

"Dallas. Maybe you should tell me about it. Maybe that will help." I said.

"No... nothing will help. Nothing can help me now." he said, looking past me.

"Dallas, if you'd just try it--"

"NO! I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT IT! NEVER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He yells.

"Dallas, I'm just trying to help--"

"NO ONE CAN HELP ME! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SPECIAL?!"

"I--"

"Get out. Just get out now." he says calmly.

I don't move, I am in shock.

"I said, get out!" he yells.

I put on my clothes and dart out the door, tears streaming down my face.