Vocabulary Insanity

Chapter 4 - Lost in the Message

Vocabulary:

ribald (adj.): vulgar or indecent in speech, language, etc; coarsely mocking, abusive, or irreverent

deferential (adj.): marked by or showing respect

sardonic (adj.): characterized by bitter or scornful derision; mocking; cynical; sneering

loquacious (adj.): characterized by excessive talk; wordy

anomalous (adj.): deviating from or inconsistent with the common order, form or rule

pious (adj.): having or showing a dutiful spirit of reverence for God or an earnest wish to fulfill religious obligations

petulant (adj.): moved to or showing sudden, impatient irritation, especially over some trifling annoyance

Story: Lost in the Message

            If you want to talk to me, fine. I've said all I have to say. It's your turn.

            It was a challenge. He'd laughed at her, and now she'd replied, her petulance shining through. She was challenging him to call her, to fix this, to show that he cared in some way.

            And he had no clue how to respond. He'd always been the charmer. He could have talked himself into The White House if he'd wanted to. He was convincing, good at playing things off. The laugh was a con, a trick to calm her down so he could gain control of the situation. He would have let her call him. She would have rambled, and in the end she would have changed her mind. She would still be his nerdy friend, and he wouldn't have spoken a single word. But she knew that; she'd been watching him deal with people for four years. There was no way she was going to fall for his tricks. She was the anomalous point, defying all logic and taunting the mathematician. And he, the mathematician, was out of solutions. By leaving all the power to him, she'd stripped him of all authority. She now controlled his actions.

            What had happened to the shy girl, too afraid of losing him to chance angering him? Where had the deferential pushover gone? Why were her once loquacious lips now clamped firmly shut? On the other end of that text was a strong, unyielding woman, and an angry one at that. She had once idolized him with an almost pious devotion; now she was challenging him to call her in anger. Challenging him to prove to her just how much of a jerk he could be.

            And he knew that if he called her, he'd do exactly that. His ribald conduct and sardonic comments would do nothing but anger her even more. They would yell. She would hold her tears back until he could no longer hear her, but he would hurt her. And he would hate himself for it.

            But if he didn't call her, he would still lose her. She would still cry; no one likes feeling abandoned. But the pain would be less, and she would be able to blame his actions on cowardice or indifference. It would be more painful for him, that he knew for sure. Her disapproval would shatter him, but he'd rather take the pain than imagine her falling apart from three states away.

            She was just a friend, he struggled to convince himself, even as he put his phone away. He laid back and stared at the ceiling, the hole in his heart growing with every torturously empty second. He was doing the right thing.

            Hours later she set her phone down, accepting the fact that he wasn't going to call. She climbed into bed, a tear falling slowly from her cheek.

            "That's what I thought," she whispered to the pillow.