and then you left // cth

chapter 20: empty

alexis

I don't think, I just run.

I force my legs forward despite their reluctance and sprint away from two boys who I'd allow to get to know me too well. The wind is my propellant, and my ex-boyfriend's face fresh in my mind is my adrenaline. At some point, I bump into someone or something, but I don't stop. Forward and on, my legs take me away.

I've never been much of a runner. Last year I'd tried to take it up to get in shape before spring break, but all I'd gotten out of it was a near asthma attack. Apparently though, when you see someone who broke your heart, for the first time after seven months of utter silence, anything is possible.

Maybe if heartbreak was considered a superpower, things would be different.

I shove open the back door with all of my strength, not even running anymore. I'm flying now, my feet barely touching the ground as I run into the daylight. The sun is blindingly bright but even so, I run. I don't wait for my eyes to adjust.

I don't think of who I'm leaving behind inside the venue, I just run.

I run out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. The heat of the pavement is coming through the soles of my shoes, burning my feet. But that pain is nothing near to the pain I feel inside, and I continue on.

I feel free when I run, almost. Like I'm finally leaving Calum behind me, and going wherever the wind takes me. I haven't ran this much since PE last year, and even then I hated running. Any forced physical activity is bound to be dreaded by teenagers, I'll tell you that much. No matter what the sport was, I was bad at it. Turns out some coordination is a prerequisite for nearly every sport, so in turn I was not good at them.

But Cal was different. He really was a talented soccer player. For the first bit that I'd known him, soccer was all he talked about. But then I think music kind of took over his life, and although he never quite officially quit the sport, I hadn't seen him play since the first few months we were friends. Not since he picked up the bass. It seemed once he discovered music, everything in his life shifted, for the better.

I need to stop thinking about him. He's here. I just saw him, right there in the hallway, standing in the light. His eyes had widened as he'd seen me. The shock seemed to take over both of our bodies. Though I hadn't looked at him long enough to take him in, I remember how tired and sad he looked. It was striking.

He's Luke's best friend.

Once this realization hits me, I stop running. My vision is turning black at the edges and the sun is burning my skin and I pant as I place my hands in my knees. I know I've outdone myself; the past few months I've exclusively split my time between Netflix and YouTube, and no such physical activity of any kind. My calves feel tight and hot and my body is burning with exhaustion. My tongue is dry, my stomach cramped, and my chest heaving.

I look around, and immediately recognize where I am. I'm at the park, on Passion Street, near the tree where Luke and I sat just a few short weeks ago, our first outing together.

I didn't realize the venue was this close to Passion Street, or even that I'd come here. With images of Calum flooding my mind, I'd failed to notice my surroundings.

I slowly let my back slide down the trunk of the tree, until I'm sitting down in the grass. It isn't until I've caught my breath that I it all sink ins in and the tears start to fall.

All of the times Luke talked about his 'best friend', he meant Calum. Every time, every single time I'd commented on the bassist's absence, I was speaking of Calum. Every time I'd heard a song written by this bassist, it was written by Calum. Everything comes back to Calum.