Not On Her List

XX 🌺

There's an uncomfortable silence in the car as neither Cj nor I say anything for a while.

I look out the window, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness outside.

"I know this road," I say, suddenly realizing where we are.

You do not take this road if you're driving a car. No car plies this road as a result of all the rubbish the local thugs litter here...like broken bottles.

"Well, how does that help us now?" Cj asks.

"Dammit, Cj. You should never have taken this road," I groan. "It's completely covered with stuff like broken bottles."

"I thought it was a shortcut or something. How was I supposed to know it wasn't? I've only been in this town for three months anyway," he mutters.

"What do we do now?" I ask as I turn on my phone.

"I don't know," he says.

"It's 5 o'clock already. How do I get home now?" I say, worriedly as I look at the time on my phone screen.

"I don't know," he says again.

"We can't walk under the storm. And I'm pretty sure no taxi comes this way because, duh. And my phone is down, so, I cant call anyone right now. What should we do, Cj? How do we-" I'm saying when he cuts in.

"I DON'T KNOW, SPIVOT! Just shut up and stop asking questions, okay?" He yells.

I cringe at the loudness of his voice and fall silent immediately.

"Sorry," I mutter, after a while. "I guess I'm just prone to asking stupidly annoying questions."

He doesn't reply or say anything.

Then, almost immediately, he speaks up.

"About what you asked earlier. If I was still mad at you. The answer is no. I'm not. I never was mad at you," he begins.

"I mean, how can I be?" He continues, "I don't get it. I wanted to be mad at you. I should have been mad at you, but, I wasn't. I couldn't."

I don't say a word. Instead I let him go on, feeling that whatever Cj was saying right now, it needed no interruptions.

"Like, you annoyed the hell out of me, Hillary. You still do. With all your curiosity and shit. That part is more than enough to get me angry, but, I can't be that," he's says. "As much as I want to, I can't. I guess it's because..."

Then, he suddenly stops.

Because what?

As much as I want to say something, I don't.

"It's probably because you look so much like her. Like April. Except the part where you don't have red hair like she did," he mutters, "same hazel eyes. Same smile...almost the same face. Everything you do, Hillary, reminds me of her. And you know the strangest part? She even played lacrosse."

She did?

Whoa...

That's one hell of a coincidence.

"So, all I'm saying is, I'm not angry at you or anything. I guess I can't be," he says staring straight ahead, out the car windshield.

I look at him through the rear view mirror. He has a distant look on his face. Like he's thinking of something.

Of course he is.

He's thinking of April.

April Xavier.