The Truth Hurts

71 │confrontation

Walking alongside each, Taylor and Marc cut a corner on the sidewalk as they head down yet another block in an awkward silence. Neither of them have yet to speak—not even small talk revolving around the weather or school—and Taylor can't help but find herself staring forward, wanting desperately to say something. To say everything.

They reach a small park tucked off of the corner of the upcoming intersection. Its deteriorating sign is illegible, the words that were once perfectly engraved into it are now blended into the rotting lump of wood that is on the verge of crumbling into a pile of mush. In reality it's just a small field no larger than that of the average person's backyard and, tucked along its back fence, is a slide and a couple of rusted swing sets.

As they cut through the overgrown grass to approach the playground, the only noise is a car passing by and their footsteps crunching against the leaves below. Focusing on one of the swings swaying in the light breeze, Taylor can't help but smile as she reminisces on years ago when she and Millie used to come here almost every single day after school. They would push each other down the slide and play on the swing set until the sun began to drop. That was back when the park was more vibrant, much like their friendship.

"Do you remember that one time..." He cracks a smile on his face as they pass several trees that have randomly grown throughout the once empty field. "We decided to take Nash on his first walk around the park. He was just, what, a few months old then?"

She smiles as she looks down at the ground, already knowing where this story is going.

"And he saw a cat rummaging through one of the neighbor's trash." He continues, digging his hands into his sweater pockets. "Then he bolted after it, chasing her down the street and we were running after him for nearly ten minutes."

"Yeah." She laughs, considering that moment to be one of the many highlighted memories of their relationship. Nash, more than anything, really brought them together as a couple. Each time she glances up, she still finds her attention drawn to the swings and thinks of Millie. "I remember."

"When we finally managed to catch him he had that poor kitten pinned on the ground, but he wasn't attacking her. He was just licking her fur, playing with her gently. He was such a sweet dog."

She looks over at him. "He still is."

"Yeah but, as he grew older, he lost his innocence." He turns to face her, his smirk quickly fading from his lips. "You know?"

Taylor stops by one of the many trees just a few feet away from the slide. "Are you trying to say something?"

"Other than that? No." He shrugs, but she can tell by his grave expression that he was implying something else by those words. "What about you?"

She glances around the park. "What do you mean?"

Marc peers at her, as if to give her a moment to remember why they are actually here. "You wanted to talk about something, right?"

She places her hand on the tree, nervously scratching at the bark with her fingernail. "Yeah. I umm, I have something that I want to tell you. Something I need to tell you. I've been trying to do it for some time, but I just don't know how."

"Just say it."

Sighing, she shakes her head. "It's not that easy."

"It can be." He takes a deep breath, deciding to absorb his own words and apply them to himself. After all, he can't expect her to confide total honesty in him if he's not willing to do the same. "I need to tell you something too. Well, more like ask you something."

"Okay." She stares at him, unsure of which direction this conversation is heading.

"Were you involved in Daniel's death?"

"What?"

"Daniel, the boy wh—"

"I know who Daniel is." She hesitates, figuring that her insanely quick response might have been enough to give her away. "But how—why would you ask me that?"

Marc shakes his head as he takes a few steps toward her, his movements seeming more stiff and controlled. Somewhat intimidated by his sudden change of posture, she backs up into the trunk of the tree.

"Why?" By that one word, she can hear his tone grow more serious. More upset. It's a shift in his voice that she has never heard before and she can't help but dig her back into the bark even more. "Because you've been acting strange ever since his accident! Literally, the day after his death everything between us changed. And god knows I've tried to talk to you about it, but every time it's like you shut me out. I'm tired of all of these damn secrets!"

Rather than fear, she finds herself more overcome with anger. She approaches him, her eyes watering as many of the feelings she had tried so hard to suppress begin to surface. "Oh. Is that why you have your little stash of pictures?"

Looking down at the ground, he bites at his bottom lip nervously. He had already suspected that she saw them, but this just confirmed it.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" Taylor continues to stare at him. "You didn't have to go behind my back—"

"Ask you?" He interrupts, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. "How?! All you would do is dodge the question or lie to me. Again."

She doesn't respond.

"Look. I need to know what's going on." Marc's tone returns to its default setting—calm and winsome. She can't help but wonder at this point if it's just a performance. "Just tell me and I will stand by you and, together, we can figure something out. I'm being completely honest with you right now. Just please, Taylor. Please do the same."

Taylor can tell that he's still upset by the red filling his cheeks, but he's masking it well. She sighs, only wishing that she could do the same.

"It's obvious what's going on." She scoffs, shaking her head unbelievably. "You just wanted a story."

"Yeah, I did!" Frustrated, Marc flings his arms in the air as he gives up arguing. He walks past her, heading back toward the street from which they came. "And excuse me if I wanted it to have a happy ending."

Taylor stares at him for a moment, watching as he cuts through the small field toward the street. He doesn't look back at her as he reaches the sidewalk, hurriedly stomping down the thin strip of pavement toward the direction of Millie's house. Although it's no more than fifteen minutes walking distance, she already can tell that this is going to be an incredibly long walk back.

Taking a deep breath, she follows him.

♫ ɢʜᴏsᴛ / ʜᴏᴡɪᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ♫