Me, Myself, and I

the breakup song

The end of the saga that was the relationship between Benjamin Daniel Wood and Paige Eada-Rich went a little something like this:

Setting: The karaoke bar.

Action: She kissed him and went up on stage. Guitar went in minor chord. Lyrics flew out, faster, faster, until she wasn't breathing at all.

Music:

What's the word?

The one about the orchid?

That needs the sun to grow?

A shadow coats it in snow.

I don't know.

In this world, I'm the crow.

Pecking out the hearts in their rows.

Innocence makes me smile.

A wide mile.

The world stopped with you.

But I need more, too.

You're a word. Just one.

Shouldn't have done that to me.

Just a sound off my lips.

A wild tidlewave.

I don't know why.

This cunning sparrow

Whispered of "Love"

'Bove her beckoning claw

I won't say those words.

Of fragile song.

The world shifts along.

What I say now?

The End. What a funny sound.

Dialogue: "There's this guy. He's in college, and...it was only a matter of time, right?" ~Paige

Conclusion:

Ben listened to her talk and watched her out the door.

He came home and found me on his living room floor.

Epilogue:

Kyle didn't try to get the laptop again. He didn't ask Ben about Paige. He didn't speak again at all. He left as quickly as he came, tossed about like the leaf in the wind he is. But he first caught my eyes, and I left him the silent promise. Wherever he was going, wherever he had been, I wouldn't ask, and I wouldn't know. I had more important things to focus on.

That left me standing alone in his living room. Ben told me about Paige and her twisted song, the information or the lack thereof. His eyes stayed red but tearless, a face flushing in the cold, a heating stove top.

Ben watched the door. Kyle had left it cracked open. "Did he push you?"

"No, geez. We were just arguing."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

His gaze dropped to the floor. "What about?"

"It's...nothing. Are you okay?"

"No."

"Me either."

We sat side by side on his couch for a while. I stared at my hands. He stared at the walls and floor. His hat was crooked. I pulled it off his head. His hair had come in, finally the same short length across his features. "I'll never get used to seeing you in this thing." I tossed it back.

Ben set it on the table. "Makes my forehead itch. Should get a nicer one. Like your clothes."

I stared down at my egg-stained jeans. "What about my clothes?"

"You dress kind of like Paige."

I blinked. "You think I wear designer clothes?" He nodded. "Wow." It was all I had to say.

Ben resumed his previous position, and I mine. For some reason, the open door didn't seem all that appealing. None of the places I could go had all that much pull at me. Stacks was nearly always closed, opening a couple of hours on the weekends, pitiful attempts to appease the masses. No one had bought it out. Could get torn down completely if someone didn't step up soon. My phone vibrated again. Couldn't even guess who was trying to get ahold of me. I was nearly nothing. I was nothing.

I made the mistake of looking at him again. He didn't ask me twice, but somehow I could hear him asking again and again. I saw Kyle's disapproving glares and Alex's warning after warning, Dad's oblivious nature. And I cracked. A vase. Glass in the storm.

"It's my mom," I said. His eyes got wide. He knew about my brother's suicide, and about her leaving. Didn't find out from me, mind you. "I think she and my dad have been in contact. We're getting bills with her name on them."

"Why were you talking to Kyle, then?"

I shrugged. "He's honest. Most of the time. I needed someone to help with the...doesn't matter. He's not going to help me anyway."

"Can I help?"

"I really shouldn't drag you into this." I meant that.

"Oh." He paused. "Where do you think she is?"

"I don't know. The bills and letters are coming in from some sort of third party, I think. She's been around. It's complicated."

He eyed the laptop. "Can I look?"

"Sure." I let him sift through, folding up the printed documents of high school records into my pocket. He worked a long time, asked me questions, answers that I probably wouldn't give anyone else. "She was a lot skinnier than I am, for sure. As much as she cooked, I don't think I ever saw her eat. Except cookie dough. She loved cookie dough." He opened about fifty tabs all at once. Made my head spin. "Maybe Alex was right and I should just—"

"Are you from Idaho?"

I froze. I could still see the endless fields between houses, properties so vast and empty that they meant nothing and everything all at once. I nodded cautiously, glancing over his shoulder. He had an old photograph open, looked like it had been scanned in ages ago, a handwritten letter. Behind it, part of an envelope showed.

"What's that?"

Ben frowned. "Looks like a letter in the front. Behind a couple of bills and the envelope it came in. You are from Idaho, right?"

I nodded.

His frown deepened. "Well, I don't think she ever left. Or, well, she came back."