Captive - FourTris

Thirteen

MAY 14
8 MONTHS, 14 DAYS

I'm standing in line at the coffee shop in town, waiting on my order, when Christina walks in. Just seeing her makes my stomach hurt. Why can't this be any other day? I wish I'd showered and dressed in something bright and happy, that she'd see me laughing with Tobias.

But it's just me. And I'm exhausted after a night of talking Tobias down off the edge yet again. I don't even like coffee, but I'm buying it because I need the caffeine to get through finals.

And I have nothing to do but wait here as she walks up, a tentative smile on her face. She stands in front of me, looking at me, for too long.

"How are you?" she finally says.

She knows how I am. She can see it. Does she want me to say it out loud? Does she want me to admit I'm tired and haunted and just weary of all this?

"Good," I say.

It's a lie and she knows it, but she just lets it hang there.

"That's good."

I want to hug her. I want to leave Starbucks with her and get in her car and go wherever she's going and pretend her life is mine. I could live like her. I know I could. A world where your parents sit at the dinner table and ask you how your day was. A world where they tuck you in at night and you roll your eyes and act annoyed, but you secretly love it.

"My mom wants to know why you're never over anymore."

My coffee is sitting in front of me now. I should just walk away. I don't have to answer her.

"What did you tell her?"

"That you hate me," she says. Her voice is even. Like saying those words is no effort at all.

"I don't hate you." My voice is barely above a whisper as I say it, as I look at her to see if that really is what she thinks. I'm the one who abandoned her, not the other way around. I'm the one who ignored her calls and barely nodded at her in the hallways at school. It was me. She did nothing to deserve hate.

She doesn't answer. She just picks at her nails and we stand in silence, two old friends with nothing to say to one another.

"And Tobias? How's he?"

She knows how he is. She knows who he is, and that is enough.

"Fine."

Fine. Everything is fine. She knows this, too, is a lie. I don't know why I insist on saying it.
She starts to leave.

"I mean—"

I don't know what I mean. I don't know why I stopped her.

She turns back to me and looks me in the eye for the first time.

I know she sees who I am now. I know she pities me.

The silence hangs between us like a weight, and neither of us has to say anything to know what has gone unspoken.

And then she hugs me. It lasts at least five seconds longer than necessary and I close my eyes and lose myself in it, a hug more secure than anything I've felt in months. And then without looking at me again, she walks away.

And I know that she's a real friend. And I wish I could have her back again.