Hunting Sunsets

Eleven

What the absolute fuck what happening? Was this real life? Did I really just get flirted with in a coffee shop? Is this a fucking book?

I'd just been asked out by a girl I may or may not have have a crush on but I couldn't shake the overwhelming urge to ditch.

But even I knew that was messed up. Maybe I could make myself sick. Then I wouldn't exactly be lying, it would just be omitting the truth as a whole.

Even my junk food couldn't cheer me up. You know you're a broke college student when an egg, ramen, and some lettuce you wilted from the back of your fridge is considered a gourmet dinner. The lettuce thing was actually a trick I learned from Smith which surprisingly added a little something to a one dollar noodle cup. He was creative, I'll give him that, because lettuce certainly wasn't supposed to be wilted in water.

"What's wrong?" He asked me from where he sat on his bed, previously texting on his phone. I stood in front of the full length mirror on the white wall, placing my hairbrush on his dresser when I finished running it through my fall toned hair.

"Nothing is wrong," I brushed off while looking over my shoulder. My damp hair tickled my back as I slipped on a pair of black joggers around my hips. I'd taken a shower a few minutes ago as I hadn't showered after the run Smith and I had just been on. I had forced him to shower first because it's, you know, his apartment. That, and he was much faster than I was.

"Not true. You usually hum when you run which you didn't, and now you're gazing lovingly at yourself in the mirror," Smit countered but not unkindly. He was a great friend to have your back, I was just a stubborn little bitch sometimes. "Correction," Smit interrupted the silence. "Not lovingly. You've got that critical glint in your eye like when you see someone you don't like."

"You make it sound like I hate everyone around me," I grumbled in response, resting my hand on my trapezius, the black ink of a minimalist Roman statue of a woman's head on fire peaking out from behind my arm. I'd gotten it freshman year because I thought it looked nice on the side of my ribs, at least that's what I told people.

"You don't. You hate yourself sometimes and the worst part is someone else put that there." I ran my tongue across the front of my pearly teeth behind my lip, a crushing silence filling my ears. Smith wasn't wrong; he rarely ever was. I wanted more than anything for Smith to eat his words, but that wouldn't happen. All I was doing was staring in the mirror and realizing how insecure I was about the way I dressed. Did I look like a blowup doll in jeans? Or a whore in a skirt? Did I drink too much or eye too many people? Was I too kinky in bed? "That shit he said isn't true and I hope you know it, May."

"You're just saying that because you're fucking me," I murmured half heartedly, my nails digging into my back. "And you don't even know what he said."

"I'm saying it because it's true and you're my friend. I wouldn't lie to you, Maeve." I heard the bed shift as he stood up, tossing his phone on the bed. His warm brown eyes locked on me through the mirror as he stood a foot behind me, his body heat barely hitting me. "And yeah, I wasn't there, but I know what you told me and I know all of that couldn't be further from the truth. I can't change your mind; you have to believe it yourself."

"I know," I whispered back, my eyes flickering down in shame.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong or are you going to pretend nothing is wrong? I've known you for almost three years; I know when you're lying."

"I got asked out today and I'm trying to figure out how to get out of it."

I didn't miss the way his dark eyebrows raised slightly in response. "So you're going on a date with the woman you've been flirting with for weeks and you're standing in the middle of my bedroom in lingerie." His tone gave nothing away and that made me nervous. What was I supposed to do? It wasn't like I purposely chose the bra I did to look a certain way. "If this is your way of telling me we can only be platonic from now on then I'm seriously questioning your delivery."