Mysterious Romance

Caleb

"Wrong turn." I blurt out as she turns past my street.

"Sorry."

Her voice is sharp and jagged, icily polite.

I ruined it, talking about school. I'll never live that down with someone who knew me back then.

I wish I could just stop hanging out with her, but I don't want to stop hanging out with Elijah and the two come together, apparently.

The air is suffocating as she drives down my street and I point out my house.

"Bye." I mutter as I get out.

Our eyes lock for a moment.

I can feel resentment showing on my face, but hers far outweighs it. I'd almost think she had a deep personal grudge against me... but she kept to herself, didn't she? I don't remember any incidents involving her.

I try to shake off the unsettled feeling as I make my way inside and put a package of instant noodles on to boil.

I miss having someone who bakes around, but getting away from their judgement is worth the loss. I'll learn to bake myself, when I have the extra money to buy baking pans and measuring cups.

I sit down on my pile of blankets on the floor, cup of noodles in hand, and open my laptop.

I browse videos for a while before I realize I really need to start writing. I have a deadline I need to meet, so I need to make full use of the late hours when I can get in the zone.

The next morning my alarm wakes me up and I rush through breakfast and a shower so short it barely counts as a shower.

I walk quickly to work, as always worrying I'll be late even though I never am.

I greet Elijah when he comes into work, but don't bother to greet Emma. She says hello anyway, but doesn't stop to see if I'll respond.

Work is tedious and sometimes downright frustrating as always, but I get through it.

"You guys ready?" Elijah asks, being the first to get up for once.

"I am." Emma says.

Even for someone not skilled at reading body language, it's plain that she's dreading this. Her entire body is tense, and her smile is an empty professional one.

Elijah looks uncertainly at her.

"Yeah!" I say, after a moment of awkward pause.

We follow Emma to her car.

"You know, if you don't feel up to this sometimes we can always walk." I can't stop myself from suggesting.

"What? No, this is fine." she says.

"Fine like the, 'this is fine' meme?" I blurt out, then curse myself.

That wasn't nice.

There's a moment of silence all around. I can't help noticing Elijah glancing between us nervously.

Then Emma gives a little laugh, a sweet sound.

She doesn't give any other response, but the tension is broken for the moment.

Elijah tentatively starts a conversation about game strategy in the car, and we get absorbed in that.

When we actually play Blood shooter 4, though, Emma's playing isn't near as good as it was yesterday. As though the weight on her mind dulls her instincts and reasoning, leaving us with an unskilled teammate who, though we'd never say it, is a dead weight.

I just want to have fun with Elijah, and Emma is ruining that. She clearly doesn't want to be here, so why doesn't she just leave?

The words build up inside me, until by the time she says she has to get home I'm dying to say something.

We leave Elijah's apartment, and I try to think of a nice way to say what I'm thinking.

"You don't have to do this, you know." I start.

She rubs her forehead.

"What do you mean? I enjoy playing Blood shooter 4."

Don't deny it.

"Not today you didn't."

Calm down, say something pacifying, be nice.

"I'm just saying you should do what you enjoy and not force yourself." I add.

"I'm not forcing myself." she says, her voice tight.

We stop outside her car, and she faces me, her face set firmly.

I breath slowly, trying to calm myself.

"Why did you decide you wanted to play Blood shooter 4 with us in the first place?" I say.

It comes out as an accusation.

"It sounded like a fun activity to do with friends." she says, stiffer than ever. "Can I just take you home now?"

The complaining tone of her voice tips me over the edge.

"We're not friends! Do you think I'm stupid?" I say. I want to stop myself, but I also want her out of my life. "How could I be friends with someone who only sees me as... what I was." I pause. That's the source of this conflict, isn't it. She has some grudge against me. "Tell me, what did I do. I can apologize, and you can leave me alone."