Don’t Wait Up

“It’s not like that.” I was leaning against the counter, but I ducked my head and hoped that my hair would serve to hide the brilliant scarlet that was surely coating my ears and cheeks. The toe of my shoe dug into the carpet, and a part of me was secretly hoping that a magical rabbit hole would open up beneath me, and would swallow me whole. It never appeared.

“What is it like, then? You always look at me funny when I’m talking to him, it’s not like I don’t notice. I mean, do you like him or something? You could have told me, you know. I would have left him alone.” I couldn’t look at her, not when she was talking like that, not when she was thinking like that. So she had noticed, but as usual she had thought I liked him. She always thought I liked them. I couldn’t give a fuck less about them, really, except that they had her. And me? What did I have? Oh right, she was my ‘bestest friend forever,’ but somehow that wasn’t enough. Not even close.

“I don’t like him,” I mumbled. It was always like this, always a denial on my part and subtle (or not so much) accusations on hers. I couldn’t tell her, no way, no how - because she was my best friend, and I couldn’t live with myself if I lost her. Not over this. Not when I could fix it, because back then I still thought that I could.

She huffed a bit and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Jameson.” I could feel her watching me, I could sense it as she went to move away, then changed her mind. “What is your major malfunction, soldier?” I love you. The words raced to the tip of my tongue but I swallowed them back. No, I didn’t love her, I just wanted to keep her all to myself and to never let anyone touch her. It was just jealousy, not love. Yeah, something like that. I shook my head and closed my eyes, sick of staring at the ugly patterns in the carpet, sick of that burning sensation, sick of pretending that I didn’t want to cry.

“Jessie…” She walked over and wrapped her arms around me, strands of bleached blonde and natural brown falling over my shoulders. “Jessie, I didn’t mean it… You know I… Whatever I did I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” I couldn’t stand it. I started to cry. She shouldn’t have been sorry, because it was my fault. She was just going with what I told her, rolling with the punches. I was the one who didn’t want to let her go, who wanted to keep her in my arms forever and never let anyone else touch her. I was the one who was too confused to tell myself what I thought, let alone tell her.

I pulled back and looked at her, blurry in some mix of tears and running eyeliner that stung so badly. “Please, don’t hate me.” She looked at me like I was crazy, then like she was concerned. I missed the rest of her expression as I wiped my gritty eyes with my sleeve. I ran my hand through her hair, the beautiful hair that felt like silk despite how many times it had been burnt and dyed and tortured. She looked confused, now.

I closed my eyes and quickly leaned forward to press my lips lightly against hers. I care for you so much, please, please, please, don’t hate me for this… I meant it to be short, but she was soft and tasted of peaches. I couldn’t make the tears stop flowing even as I placed my free hand on her waist and pressed against her, loving how her gasp allowed me to taste her more fully, moving closer, closer, closer. But she wasn’t moving towards me. I stopped and stepped back, pulling off my hands as if I had been electrocuted. I looked at her, waiting for some response, for some word, for something.

Her lips parted in a soft “oh” of recognition, and I couldn’t stand the thought of what would happen next. I raced out the doors, not pausing even when I heard her after me, footsteps light and voice soft with indecision. “Jessie? Jessie wait… We need to talk about this. Jessie please stop! Jessie!” Only when I was on the tracks did I turn back to look at her. She had stopped running, and was just staring at me. She looked so shocked, or confused, or lost, or… No, no she was scared. But I wasn’t.

“I love you.” The train was just on time.