why we fall apart

twenty first ; why we fall apart

I like having my own room.

It's quiet. I don't have to share space. I can think since I'm always alone and I can cry and nobody will care. Not that anyone once did.

I'm musing over arbitrary things, pacing the deserted hallways after classes when Alex cuts off my path.

He looks upset and annoyed. More specifically, with me.

"What died when it crawled up your–"

"Why'd you leave me?" He demanded.

"I-what?"

"You. Left. Me." He took a step to accentuate each word.

"No, I didn't. I got a new room."

His eyes flash desperately.

"Why'd you go?"

I shifted uncomfortably.

"Ok look, if this is about the kiss-"

"Kisses."

"Then I told you, and I thought we'd agreed. We're not going to work out. We're both a mess and you know what two messes make? A catastrophe."

"I...I need you." He was really grasping at thin air here.

I shook my head. "No, you don't."

I start to walk away, but he won't let me.

"Please, just hear me out."

I give him a look, but nod slowly.

"You're the kind of person that I've never been around. You're not intimidated. You don't think I'm a bad person even when I do bad things. You tell me the truth, even when I don't want to hear it. I feel better when you're around...and I'd like to kiss you without it being meaningless to you."

I felt horror rise in my throat.

"Look, you trust me to tell it to you straight, so here goes: you deserve someone who cares about you."

With that, I left his stunned face for my rooftop retreat. I watched the sun disappear over the horizon and felt the air run cold. I kept staring at the world around me and tried not to think about things.

The way that Alex was really just a broken boy who needed love, and was willing to find it in a heartless shell of a girl. 

The way that I'd wished I could help him, but knew that I couldn't.

The way that I'd felt nothing when we kissed, but he'd felt everything.

And the way that Tristan was waving at me from the corner of my now not so secret hideaway.

The secret of Crawford was gnawing at my insides.

"You come up here too?" He asked.

I hadn't noticed he was here.

"Yeah, usually in the mornings."

"That's why I never see you. This is where I like to go at night."

I nod. It makes sense, since he's always roaming the outer corridors.

"So how's it going, little miss heartbreaker?"

I scowl.

"Don't call me that."

I didn't like what I did to Alex. But it'd be worse if I stayed and acted like his crutch.

"Why not? Everyone's been buzzing about how you demolished Alex's spirit. Not that he had much of one before, but you know what I mean."

I bristled.

"I didn't ask for-"

"Oh yeah you did. You led him on."

"I thought he knew it meant nothing!"

"Guys aren't very perceptive about stuff like that. You have to spell it out for them." He stretched his oddly long legs out.

"So the whole school knows about our dark alley make out sessions, I'm guessing."

"Yup." His face is passive. "So whatcha gonna do about it?" His eyes focus on me.

I lower my eyelids slowly.

"Nothing."

If I could lower my level of concern for my public image, I would. I was already the worst of the worst in my classmates' eyes, so what did it matter anyways?

Tristan speaks after a moment, seemingly to the night air. "The new dean of Crawford... he's who we need to break."

"We?"

"You've heard my spiel. You're in it now."

I let out a breath. "So I am."

"You're great at that sort of thing, so it won't be too hard," Tristan says, in his lazy drawl.

"Like I could break some old rich dude who is influenced by the government or whatever," I spat.

"You don't know a thing, do you?" Tristan snorted. "The new dean is just nineteen, comes from a wealthy family, and more importantly, is the brother of a Crawford alumni."

I consider the new information. I piece it in with what he's already told me.

"Get me to the dean," I said. "I'll split him down the middle, find out everything there is to know about the covered up death that happened last winter."