Pomegranate

Seth - 9

At 10am on Sunday, Meredith texted Seth.

Breakfast?

The lump in his throat expanded.

Sure, he replied, after a moment of hesitation.

They met at the Tea Lounge, another cafe on the other side of campus. This one was emptier than the Midnight Cafe, partly because it was more expensive. Seth was aware of how strange he felt, tense and walking too stiffly to the table where Meredith was sitting. She was alone in a table for two, in the corner next to the windows, sipping a coffee mug. Her hair was braided, some strands lose and falling on her face, and she wore a soft pink cardigan. She looked beautiful. Somehow, this made Seth more anxious.

"Hi," he said and sat down across from her.

"Hey." She smiled. "Did you order?"

"Yeah. How are you doing?"

"Eh. The weekend was mostly just work. I also spent Thursday night making sure Corey wouldn't choke on their vomit and getting weird texts from Benji."

"Really? Like what?" Seth asked too fast, his voice high pitched. He cleared his throat.

"Just... a lot of messages saying he was sorry and how much I mean to him and..." Meredith's voice got lower as the sentence progressed, and she looked down at the mug between her hands. "Some stuff about important I am and...yeah."

"Okay."

She shrugged, pressing her lips. Seth finally realized he wasn't the only one acting weird. Meredith kept putting her hair behind her ear too often, shaking her leg under the table and biting the inside of her cheeks. She wasn't very good at hiding her anxiety.

"Is everything okay?" He asked.

She blinked and covered her mouth with her hand. Seth was reminded of when they first kissed and she did the same thing, covering her lips as if afraid to speak.

"I think I might be a horrible person."

Her voice was low, almost a whisper. She didn't look at him, and before Seth could say anything, the server came to their table, bringing an omelet with toast and a bowl of fruit salad. Neither of them touched their orders.

"What are you talking about?" Seth leaned in and reached for her hand. "You're not a horrible person."

"Yes, yes I am. I..." Meredith looked to the side like she was about to cry. Her fingers slipped out of his grasp, hiding under her armpits. "I need to tell you something. I lied to you. I think. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"You...think you lied to me?"

"I don't know! I am sure about this, I want this." She gesticulated between them. "But, at the same time...I don't know."

Seth watched her face. Now she kept pulling her hair to cover her face, the small lines of tears running down to her chin.

Seeing Meredith like this, torn apart, was what clicked something in his head. Seth wasn't imagining things. He was just pretending not to see it. So did Meredith, it seemed.

"It's Benji, isn't it?"

Meredith froze. She looked at him. She nodded.

"Mer..."

"I-I don't even know," she cut him off, speaking fast. "It's been so long and sometimes I'm not sure if I loved him or the idea of him, the idea of loving him, and I nothing ever happened, nothing, really, but I still think about him, even now. Even with you. And I do want to be with you, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't...."

She didn't need to finish the sentence. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be him, too.

"Meri..." Seth's heart cramped and ached in his chest.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, you don't deserve this. I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

"I never wanted to hurt you, ever, especially after nearly killing you with that goddamn fish oil and—"

"Meredith." Seth reached out and steadied her hand, her shaking fingers. She looked up, pressing her lips together. "Meri. Me, too."

"What?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"I guess haven't been totally honest with you, either," his words were small.

Meredith looked at him expectantly, and Seth kept clearing his throat as if hoping the words would come out on their own. He had to say it.

But before he got the chance, something cleared in Meredith's face, and she sat back, eyes wide. Still holding his hand. She probably saw it too, how she wasn't the only one torn apart. Reading the clues she had previously missed.

For a long time, before she even said it, Seth could just read it in her face. The dots connecting.

"Benji," she finally whispered. Her voice was even, smooth like honey.

Seth felt like they could see completely and straight through each other, like glass figures. Fragile. About to break. 

He nodded. "Benji."