dead memories.

11. pretend that we have nothing left

The music emitted from the radio hums slowly as we sit in silence together. I would talk but I have nothing to say. Well, that's a lie. I have a lot to say. Around 5 hours worth of words, but not now. I can't risk messing it up again when things are starting to look up. He seems okay with leaving it behind us. Maybe our friendship can recover from what happened.

I glance over at Corey. He's staring straight ahead at the road, hands gripping the steering wheel, blinking far less often than he should. I anticipate him looking back at me, but he doesn't. He's reverted back to the block of ice he usually presents himself as.

Suddenly, he says, "Stop staring at me. It's kind of creepy, dude."

"Huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I cross my arms, slouching back in the seat.

"You know." He tells me, smugly.

"I really don't." I shrug.

He looks at me. That's all it is—a look—and my insides melt. And panic starts to set in.

Corey laughs, obnoxiously so. Fuck him. Fuck him for what he's doing to me.

"What?" I interrogate him.

"Nothing."

I leave it there. I need time to recover. And, coincidentally, he begins to pull into the parking lot of my apartment.

I need to get out of this car as fast as possible.

"Alright, here we are."

"Here we are..." I agree. Fuck. What am I supposed to say?

"May I escort you to your door?" Corey offers, reaching out his hand to me.

"I'm good," I open the car door and slam it shut, "see you later!"

Right when I think I'm free, he gets out of the car.

"It's late." Corey mentions, catching up to me.

"And?"

"Well, there could be pervs like, hiding out waiting for a sexy little goth boy to appear."

I roll my eyes and head for the door.

Corey catches up, making sure to stop in front of me, "Hey. Wait."

I wait for a reply.

"Please?"

I shake my head, "Fine. Whatever. Since when you do walk people to their doors?"

"Since now. I've turned over a new leaf."

I smirk, making my way up the stairs. He's kind of like a puppy, if you think about it.

Corey follows close behind until we arrive at my apartment door.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. I'll pick you up for practice Thursday?"

I nod. I fumble with my keys, unlocking my door and slipping inside.

"Goodni—"

The door closes behind me, and I press my back against it, taking a breath in.

Fuck. I'm so fucked. I could barely make it through that car ride. Maybe, just maybe, things are still messed up between us. I don't know if I can get over it. It replays in my head constantly, over and over and over until I somehow fall asleep. Him, on top of me, thrusting, kissing me, touching me, holding me. I let it go so far. I let too much happen. Yet, I—

Maybe I should, maybe I should just—

I turn and yank open the door, and I'm met with the image of Corey raising his fist to knock.