A/N It's unedited. I apologize for the mistakes.
I sit across from Claire, who fiddles with her drink. I’ve been in this spot for the past hour, having gotten here early. I needed some time on my own to think about how I was going to talk with her. I went through a million debates with myself, wondering if I should make her come back with me, apologize, or just give her the godamn letters. And I just finally settled on the latter.
But now that she’s here, right in front of me, I want to grab her hand and cry with her. I don’t understand how she can look anymore sunken in than when I saw her two weeks ago, but she does. Maybe she’s already physically dead, and I’m just seeing her ghost. Maybe I’m mental, and my job and Calum and everyone were all dreamt up. I think I could handle that better than this.
We don’t talk, both of us lost in thought. I wonder what she’s thinking about. And as I stare at her, my mind wanders from our current predicament to the past few weeks between the last time I saw her and now. Not much has changed. I got the mess cleaned up, thanks to Calum’s help. Hell, he and Luke mostly cleaned it up while I slept on my futon. I sigh, remembering our conversation.
“You didn’t have to do it,” I say.
Calum shrugs, nodding and looking sheepish. “I know. But I’ve already helped you, so I figured, why the hell not do it again?”
“I wanted to be even with you. No debt between us.”
Another shrug. “Guess you’re not done with me yet.”
I pull myself back to reality and away from his kindness. As much as I would like to just shut up and accept the fact that he didn’t do it for anything, I can’t. I want to be grateful, but I want to be done with him as well. It takes too much energy to care about another person, and I hardly have any energy now, caring for myself. But how do I explain that to someone who doesn’t understand?
So now I’m back in debt with the fool, and have to find a way to pay it off. He playfully flirted that I should get us coffee, like a date, but I shot him down. The last time I had a boyfriend was. . . Actually, thinking about it, I’ve never had a proper boyfriend. I’ve always just had sex. And for a small moment, upon this realization, I really want to go back to Old Reese and date Jacob Ronny, the school quarter back who was flirting with me.
And the moment of nostalgia passes over me and I go so far as to think that maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s better that I didn’t have a boyfriend. I mean, you either get married or break up, and I just spared myself of the pain. I don’t think Jacob and I would’ve gotten married. As much as I was the cliché blonde girl, I wasn’t too. I was different.
JR always said it was a good different, but I don’t know. Look where it landed me. So I’m just content with sex. I mean, it’s the closest I’ll ever need to be with someone, right? Because no one can really let you down with intercourse. I mean, sure if they are terrible at it, but with one night stands, you should never really go in with high hopes. I mean, drunken sex isn’t always that good. Now, if it is, I always like to daydream sober sex. I mean, how much better would that be?
I take a sip from my now cool drink, swishing it in my mouth before swallowing it down. Claire looks at me in the eye, and doesn’t look away. I stare back, wondering how we got here. I mean, I know how we got to this instant, and how we became so lost in ourselves. It’s quite easy to recall the day it went south; the day it went down the drain. But I just want to know why I let it go.
