Survival of the Unfit

Chapter 38

Levi

Sunday afternoon I drove over to April's house. Getting up to the front door, I knocked, waited a moment, and then she opened the door. I didn't bother pausing for some sort of formal greeting; I shut the door behind us and held her as she collapsed into tears.

I pulled her in and we slid down the door into an entangled heap. She shook, and sniffed, and sobbed, and I did nothing but hold her and try to stay composed myself. I felt like screaming. I felt like screaming, long loud and hard and swearing up a storm because it wasn't fair. I had never felt so defeated. It's just...I thought we were done.

Paper brushed my arm, letter clutched tight in April's hand. I took it and stuffed it behind me, focusing on nothing but comforting her, trying to stay cool myself. I hadn't felt like crying in a long, long, time, but I was on the edge of it there. And that "tough guys don't cry" ideology is bullshit. Not that I cry all the time, but I certainly feel like it a lot, for a number of things (as of late anyway). How could it all be so nightmarish now? It was fine. Everything was fine for three entire, blissful weeks until now.

"I don't want to do this anymore," she whispered, clutching my hoodie sleeve.

I planted a small kiss on her forehead and stared at the table in her kitchen blankly, in a sort of daze where time suspended itself. "I know."

So we sat for a long time together. She feigned being sick to her parents to stay home, period cramps or whatever. Called me fifteen or so minutes ago to explain what had happened last night, read the letter and everything in a cracked voice that broke my heart with every sentence. I didn't waste a second in rushing over. 

She had locked herself in and all the blinds were drawn, leaving the house in an almost ethereal, dim light. Light not bright, but not dark. It was a cloudy March day, so the light was gray like the clouds if it could be described any better. Windy day, too. The shadows tree branches made across her hardwood floor were calming the more I stared at them. I closed my eyes and willed myself to stay composed over it all once again, because I would live to see another sunny, beautiful day by that cliff with her. I would live for another date, for another stupid, late night excursion and windows unlocked.

She shifted around to sit next to me, knees up to her chest and eyes trained on the floor. I kept my arm around her. "You okay?"

"For now," she said weakly. She turned to me. "You have the letter?" I dug it out from behind me and held it out to her. She pushed it back into my hands and turned away. "I don't want it." 

I read it myself, in full. And when I was done reading every sarcastic, cocky threat, I crumpled it into a ball and angrily threw it. "Fuck it. Fuck that piece of paper."

She didn't reply for a moment, for a long moment. Only stared at the ground, still in pajamas, shaking. Carefully, I unzipped my hoodie and wormed my way out of it, right arm still a little weak and heavy since this was the first day I was allowed to have it off and use my arm. I threw the hoodie over her shoulders as best as I could, and then sat and stared at the floor as well. Getting goosebumps truthfully, but she wasn't shaking anymore.

Again, we sat. We sat and stayed silent. I let my mind become blank and empty, staring at the ground until my vision went blurry. She stayed curled up, poking her arms through my hoodie and wrapping it tight around her. It was big on her muscular frame, kind of cute. In that way a small animal is, huddled under a blanket or hay. And I looked to her, gently sliding my hand over hers. Her eyes traveled up my goosebump-y arm to meet mine, still a little watery. "We fight together?" I asked.

A pained smile crept across her face, and she cuddled up against my good arm to keep it warm. "Together."

I looked at her again. She looked at me, slowly. And we both had the same idea.