Through the Lens | Dodie Clark

12

"You're not drunk, are you?" I chuckled as I sat up, while wondering if I was coming off as chill as I was trying oh so hard to be, or if she could see right through me.

Dodie looked at her hands and picked at her nails. "I tend to be more honest when I'm drunk." She sniffled. "I did go home that night with the intention of breaking up with him, but I was tired and wasted, and it all came out in mumbles. Of course, our end was only subdued for another day."

She didn't wait for me to say anything before continuing. "I was kind of enthralled with you from the beginning. I had conflicted feelings. I did truly care for Charlie, but with you, everything was fresh and exciting." She looked at me and smiled. "Is fresh and exciting. We never did things like this."

I kinda just sat there, my mouth agape. My heart felt like it was going off on its own beat, paying no mind to my body's needs.

I finally found words. "I've had this massive crush on you, ever since we met. When I got home and realized I lost your number I cried. Much more than what should be acceptable."

"Really?"

"I'm surprised you didn't notice. Everyone else was onto it, I was sure it'd be obvious to you, too."

Dodie leaned her head on my shoulder and tugged my hand away from my fraying hems, lacing my fingers with hers, where we'd stay for the next hour.

/380 days/

I made Dodie breakfast. Well, I tried. I managed to burn my hand while scrambling eggs. Margo heard me cursing and briefly appeared in her doorway, trudging back to her bed after assessing the situation and deciding that sleep was more important.

"Thanks, Margo! Nice to know you're here for me!" I called out as I stuck my hand under the faucet. She replied with a grunt.

Next was Dodie. "What's going on?"

"Ah, I just cooked my hand a bit. Which wasn't my idea, unless you have some cannibalistic tendencies I don't know about."

"Mm, I cant say I do. I'll let you know if anything changes." She looked at my hand. "Let's get that fixed up." She ran into the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit.

"Isn't that a bit excessive?" I looked at my palm -- the burn was only about an inch in size.

"It's absolutely necessary," she insisted. I gave her my hand and she got to work with the ointment.

I focused on the lines running across my skin. "You know, I used to read palms. In high school. I'd just make stuff up. And they'd pay me for it, too."

Her eyes lit up with the new information. "You scammed people? How'd you get away with it?"

"I told them what they wanted to hear. Kept it vague. The power of suggestion can be strong. Stuff like, 'You often worry about things out of your control', 'Someone will ask you for help today'."

"Here," she said after putting a bandaid on my hand. She offered me hers. "Read mine."

I took it in my good hand and traced her lines with my pointer finger. "This one means you're beautiful. And. . . this one means you're talented, and the lines that branch off mean you're going to achieve your dreams." I could see Dodie's face getting closer to mine in my peripheral vision. "This one means I think you're lovely."

"You're just telling me what I want to hear?" she whispered.

"Nah, no scamming. Those day are long gone. This is the real deal."

I looked into her eyes. We were hardly an inch apart. Patience was never my strong suit, so I closed the gap. I only pecked her lips, to see how she'd react. She came back for more, then deepened it, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I felt at home in her kiss. I'd take her sober kisses over the drunk ones any day.

We made out for a while, only stopping once we got tired of not breathing. She looked flustered, and the butterflies in my stomach went berserk as it registered that I was the reason that her cheeks were red.

I composed myself. "Oh, before I forget. Tom invited me to play poker with him and his flat mates later today. Wanna join?" I grinned. "I've got a mean poker face."

Dodie hummed. "There's something I need to do today."

I raised an eyebrow. "Care to expand?"

She reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear. "I'll tell you about it later."

"Ok"

---

I arrived early. Tom told me his flat mates went to the grocery store to get some junk food. He seemed troubled. He was all fidgety, and he answered me in short clips.

"What's got your pants in a bunch?"

Tom shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You're a rebound. Dodie had a bad breakup, you took her in, and now she's translating her gratitude into interest. I feel like a dick saying it, but I'll feel like a bigger dick if I say nothing."

I had sent him an excited jumble of a message after Dodie confessed how she felt. He replied with a pretty ambiguous text, but I figured that it was because I had sent it at five in the morning and was too tired to make sense.

I wanted to explain that there was so much more of our relationship that he hadn't seen, that there had been so much build up to that point. I also wanted to punch him. Bitter words bubbled up in my throat, so I spat them out before I could taste them on my own tongue.

"Even if we don't last, I'll never know if I end it before it even starts. Just because you still have feelings for me doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do with my love life just to up your chances. Which didn't exist to begin with, by the way. Get over it, Tom. It's embarrassing."

His eyebrows met and his expression turned from empathy to anger. I knew I said something wrong. He removed his hands from his pockets and ran his fingers through his hair, drawing in a deep breath.

"Oh my god. Are you that self-absorbed? Or do you just perceive me as that pathetic? Not everybody is fucking in love with you, Evie. Maybe if you ever cared enough to ask about me, you'd know better." The sharpness to his words didn't sound right with his voice.

Ouch. I probably deserved that. "No, no. I don't know why I-"

"I think you should leave."

I dropped the apology that was ready on my tongue. "Fine." He didn't even want to try to work things out, so why should I.

Maybe I thought he'd try to stop me when I actually started walking away, because I felt my heart go all droopy when he let me walk the door without a word.