Bitter

eleven - cal

The glass door banged shut behind me as I carried Meg's milkshake outside. She was waiting at a small table, legs crossed, distracted by the sunset and the cool breeze. "Here you go," I said, startling her while I set the shake down. She perked up at the sight of the strawberry ice cream dripping down the side of the styrofoam cup. She smiled graciously at me.

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup in her hands and stirring the shake around with the plastic spoon. I was waiting for her to try it, hoping it wouldn't melt too fast, but she just kept spinning the spoon around. She looked at me and a light sparked in her eyes. She uncrossed her legs, turned so that she was facing me entirely, and leaned towards me. "Why me?" she questioned simply.

This took me off guard. My brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'why me'?" I asked.

"Cal," she said more firmly, "you haven't even thought about me for years. Why did Jason want me to come with you guys?" She glanced inside the ice cream shop at Jason, Zach, and Marco who were all sitting at a booth, occasionally looking at me and Meg as we talked. "I mean," she carried on, "don't get me wrong, it's nice." Her brown eyes flicked to mine again. "I just want to know...why me and why now?"

My skin was growing hot. It was the very beginning of October and I was burning like the sun. "Well, I..." I focused on the pattern of swirls that covered the table. "I missed you, that's all," I mumbled, feeling the lie slithering through my teeth. A string of more lies unraveled from me. "To be honest, I never really wanted to break up," I pretended to confess, shrugging in mock defeat. "I thought about you a lot after we did...but I wasn't sure if you liked me still, so I just never said anything." I pursed my lips when I felt guilt standing over my shoulder again the longer I spoke. I shut up and looked to Meg to see if I'd convinced her.

   She didn't speak at first and I was afraid I'd given myself away somehow. Then her lips slowly curved into a smile that stretched from ear to ear, an actual, contented smile. Shame dug its sharp talons into my shoulders and I tore my gaze from Meg to study the ice cream running down the side of her cup. She still hadn't eaten any of it yet and I was getting antsy, wanting her to just stuff her face so she didn't say anything else to me. "It's funny you got Jason to invite me for you," she said with a giggle.

   "Why?" I asked.

   She was blushing now and she swirled her spoon in the milkshake again. "Because...I would've said yes if you'd asked me yourself," she admitted quietly with another grin. She reached over to me and placed her hand on my arm. Shame once again breathed down my neck, reminding me it was there and could easily break me.

   Meg's chuckling distracted me thankfully. "This whole time I didn't know you were scared of me," she said, more to herself but at the same time, had wanted me to hear it.

   "Hey, I wasn't scared of you," I corrected her, "I just didn't want to make things weird for you or anyone else." I didn't know how long I could keep this up. I wasn't nearly as good as Mom at playing pretend. Luckily Jason, Zach, and Marco saved me and came outside a few minutes later. Meg with her pink, polished nails and guilt with its piercing claws released their hold on me.

———

   Meg had eaten her half-melted milkshake in the car while I had driven the other three home, slowing down over speed bumps that were planted all over her neighborhood. It was dark out now and with that came a silence that settled over the two of us. I should have dropped her off first.

   Meg was staring out the window at the gray trees flitting by, while I was still trying to figure out if the silence was comfortable or pure torture. I'd kind of forgotten where she lived, so she provided me with directions, commenting on early Halloween decorations in people's yards from time to time. Other than that, we didn't speak much.

   When I eventually pulled up outside of her house, she sighed. "Well, here we are..." Her hand drifted to open the door.

   "Wait," I found myself saying. She looked over at me and I swallowed, suddenly noticing my guilt had never truly disappeared and had been riding in the backseat all along. The words spilled out of me like water breaking a dam. "Will you go to homecoming with me?"

   Meg blinked once, twice, mouth slightly open. "Oh, um, of course," she answered.

   "It's okay if you don't want to," I added in a rush when she didn't say anything more.

   "Oh! No! I'd be happy to go with you!" She reassured me with a delighted smile. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head, "I wasn't expecting you to ask that."

   Smirking, I looked down, then out at the moonlit street through the windshield. Her soft voice turned my head to face her again. "Thank you for today. It was fun," she commented, brown eyes sparkling. 

   I nodded. "Anytime," I said. She reached out to put a hand on my arm, like she'd done at the ice cream place, a goodbye with no words. She then opened the passenger door, stepped out, and flashed me one last smile that made the guilt crawl from behind my seat and wrap itself around my body, stabbing and constricting.

   She shut the door and began the walk up to her house through the dark grass. Meanwhile, I held my breath and sat still in my car, watching Meg unlock her front door and disappear into the subtle, orange glow coming from somewhere inside the house. I waited outside longer than I had to. The light in my car flicked off and I was wallowing in shadows, my breathing the only sound I could hear. I shook my head and cursed, pulling away from the curb. Was I taking everything too far? It was like my childish, seven-year-old self was trapped in my eighteen-year-old body. It was impossible for me to just surrender already, put up the white flag and be the bigger person, let Lydia have the last laugh.

   It had to stop someday, I knew that. I just wasn't sure when that day would be, because I certainly wasn't going to be the one to just accept defeat.