The Story of us

Chapter 21: It's hard to move on from the great romantic tragedy of July 2019

Wayne, Pennsylvania - 317 miles

"What happened between you and Harry?"

Travis had been asking me the same question for the past three days, ever since The Great Romantic Tragedy of July 2019 had occurred. And, every time he would do so, I would proceed to ignore his question and instead choose to change the subject.

"There's some great weather today, huh?" I asked him casually, even though a) we both knew that I didn't give a fuck about the weather and b) it really hadn't been very casual at all.

Travis rolled his eyes at me, which wasn't a good sign. He usually gave up by this point, which I was grateful for because although it hadn't happened yet, arguing with him seemed like it would be a lot like arguing with my younger sister: pointless and open-ended. "You know I'm not stupid, Lexi, right?"

I paused and shot him a look. Then, I said, "Do you really want me to answer that question?" 

He rolled his eyes again, which really was quite hypocritical after all the times that he had sided with Harry when he had claimed that I did the exact same thing too much. "Stop trying to change the subject," he sighed. "You and Harry both. He's barely told me anything."

I couldn't keep myself from blurting out, "Barely? As in....he's said something?" When I noticed the amused smirk that he was shooting my way, I scowled at him. "Never mind. Also, fuck you."

Travis huffed loudly–he really did remind me of my sister. Both of them, actually. (Speaking of my older sister, I hadn't heard from her in a while. A few seconds later, though, I remembered that she was boycotting social media; also, she was getting married in a month or something like that.) "He told me that he's certain you hate him now, and when I asked him why he didn't say much else after that."

"I don't hate him," I mumbled under my breath because it was true. As much as I wanted to hate Harry, I didn't. I physically couldn't, because I liked him too much. More so, I hated myself for thinking that he would possibly go for somebody like me and kissing him. I had done a lot of stupid things in my life–and when I said a lot, I really did mean that–but that was definitely at the top of the list.

"Well, he seems to think so," Travis shrugged. "I think that you should talk to him."

Ha. If only things could be that easy. Also, didn't he know me at all? I didn't talk about my problems. Instead, I just ignored them until they finally went away. The issue with this one, though, was that Harry wasn't necessarily someone that I wanted to go away, which just made things even more frustrating. "I can't do that," I told him.

"How are things ever supposed to go back to the way they were before, then?" he challenged.

That was the thing, though. I didn't want things to go back to the exact same they were before. I mean, I didn't want things to be awkward between us anymore, that was for sure, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to stand it if we stayed just friends. Not after the way that he had kissed me back. I couldn't tell Travis that, though, and so I just shrugged my shoulders up and down in response.

He didn't look satisfied, but I think he was beginning to realize that he wasn't going to get an answer out of me, at least not right now. "Fine," Travis sighed in defeat. "Suit yourself." 

I wasn't sure of what I was supposed to say that, so I just nodded my head in response and watched him walk out of the motel room. Probably to find Harry or something. I hadn't spoken to him since The Great Romantic Tragedy of July 2019, unless you counted that one time where he asked me, "Hey, do you have the keys?" I didn't, because I hadn't even said anything back to him. Instead, I had just nodded and carefully placing the keys onto the armrest, making sure not to accidentally brush my fingers against his, or something equally mortifying like that.