Girl (completed)

44

   "You can't go," Taylor protested, and I but my lip.
   "I am so sorry, I really didn't know until last night or I wouldn't have led you on like that," I explained, and he seemed lost in thought.
   "No, I love you too much to let you go. We can make it work. We have to," he insisted, and I smiled and nodded.
   "It's only three hours away, and we have phones and letters," he reasoned, and I smiled again, running my hands through my hair.
   "Exactly. We can do this," I said, and he grabbed my hand, squeezing it in reassurance.
   "You won't be mad that I'm living with John, right? It's just best for Phoenix and Julie," I said, and he frowned.
   "Well, I was thinking about that, and you know, he's not their father. I was thinking that now that we're together, I could really be a part of their lives," he said, and my jaw dropped in shock.
  "No, I can't believe that you would even suggest that when you know how I feel. He was there when you weren't, and even if he doesn't love me," I gulped, "he is still there for them," I said, and he sighed.
   "He's practically a stranger, Blaire."
   "Get out," I said through gritted teeth, and a flash of regret showed on his face when he realized how angry he'd made me.
   "Wait," he said, but it was too late.
   "Get the fuck out of my house!" I yelled, and he looked geniunly scared.
   "Are you going to call me later?" He asked, and I looked at him in anger.
   "I honestly don't know," I said, and he left.
   A few moments later, John knocked and I told him to come in. He slipped in silently, and sat on the bed next to me. The tension was almost tangible, but I tried to ignore it.
  "What was that all about?" He asked, and I rubbed my temples.
  "I think I just found out that someone that I loved wasn't who I thought they were," I said, not wanting to get to personal. I keep that if I told him that I'd defended him, he would think I was hung up on him.

And I definitely was not.

  "Oh," he said simply, and I wanted to cry out of sheer frustration and exhaustion.
  "I'm really sorry that I snapped at you last night," I said, and he shook his head.
  "You were right about everything," he said, and then added "as usual."
  "You know, I used to think so," I said, and we sat in silence for awhile, just feeling each other's comforting presence.
  "Savanna dumped me," he said finally, and I nodded.
  "Good."
  "Oh?"
  "I think you'll both benefit. She didn't deserve what you put her through, and you deserve to figure out who you are," I said, and he laughed.
  "You always had this was of looking at things that amazed me," he said, and I shrugged.
  "Well I just want the best for you," I said, and gulped, "and her, a s hard as that is to say," I added, and he smiled in pity, scooting closer to me, and brushing my cheek with his fingertips, but I shyed away.
  "We can't do this," I said, and he frowned.
  "I heard what you said, on the baby monitor," he said, and I blushed.
  "Oh," I said.
  "Thank you," he said, and I got up, longing for nothing more than to kiss him, but I couldn't.
  "It was nothing," I said, and walked out. There was a knock on the door, and I walked to answer it, not even bothering to see who it was, although if I had, I never would have opened the door.
  "Blaire, hi," Paul said awkwardly, and I stepped out onto the doorstep, glaring at him while shitting the door behind me quietly.
  "Before you say anything," he quickly said, "just let me say this: I am so sorry. I should not have tried anything, and our friendship is too valuable to me to-" he began, and I cut him off with a kiss.
  It didn't last long, but it seemed like forever. I'm not sure what made me do it, and obviously paul wasn't either, because he was very surprised.
  "Wow," he said when I pulled away, and I blushed profusely.
  "um, I don't know why I did that," I said, and he smiled charmingly.
  "Well how could you resist this?" He said, motioning to his face, and I looked down.
  "Cheeky fucker," I commented, and he laughed before stepping forward and kissing me again. I don't know why I didn't stop it, because I didn't love Paul, not in the slightest.
  Somehow, that night we ended up making love in front of his fireplace, and it was nice, but it wasn't love. It wasn't what I felt when I  read love novels or listened to love songs.
  But now that I think about it, maybe ive never felt that. Maybe it just didn't exist.
  "Fuck," he said, and I laughed.
  "Suck a poet," I said jokingly, and he laughed lightly, breathing heavily.
  "Oh shut up. If you had fucked a bird as-"
  "Hey!" I said, and he changed his words.
  "If you had felt what I felt, you'd understand," he said, and I smiled at him.
  "I understand how you feel," I said, and he smiled cockily, but I wasn't referring to what we had just done. I was referring to when John took me to see Gone With the Wind, or when we used to talk on my front porch late into the night.
  "Have you ever been in love?" I asked, and Paul ran a hand through his sweaty hair.
  "I think so, have you?" He responded, a s I frowned.
  "I don't know if I believe in love, honestly," I said, and he frowned too.
  "I think I love Jane," he said, and I scoffed.
  "And you're here with me?" I asked, and he shrugged.
  "I also happen to love shagging," he said, and I rolled my eyes.
  "You are such a pig," I said, and he shrugged.
  "Maybe."
•••
I went back and re-read my stories and they really aren't as bad as I previously thought...