I Think I Love You | Randy

track 16. knowing me, knowing you - abba

There is nothing we can do, knowing me, knowing you. We just have to face it, this time we're through.

***

When I left for class in the morning, Rye's door was still firmly shut, not a sound coming from the room where he was sleeping peacefully still. I knew I looked like a mess, having cried through much of the night without getting anywhere near a full night's sleep, the whole time never hearing a peep from Rye, although there was no way he hadn't heard me. He really wasn't the same person I knew, and as much as it hurt, I had to prepare myself for the possibility that this might be one fight we wouldn't recover from.

Instead of listening, I spent my lecture wondering how long he'd been harbouring this pent up hostility towards me. The thought of it killed me, because I loved him so much it hurt, but apparently that love had been suffocating enough for him to snap, angering him to the point where he didn't want me as a part of his life anymore. I wondered how long he'd been resenting my presence for. After all, though it felt like a lifetime ago, it was only a couple of weeks since Christmas. That warm affectionate Rye who had kissed my nose and cuddled my drunk ass to sleep- who'd rung in the new year with his lips on mine- was a world away from the stranger last night who slept soundly while I cried my throat raw on the other side of the wall.

Deciding to skip my final class of the day, knowing it was pointless to sit there when I couldn't take a single thing in, I made my way instead towards the theatre. I had the cast Brooklyn had gifted me in my backpack. I had to return it to the props stash before tomorrow anyway as it would be needed for our technical rehearsal. I was just about to replace it on one of the racks backstage when the sound of movement behind me made me jump, having thought I was alone.

"Andy?"

I spun around at the familiar voice. "Jack?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was just" -I waved the cast awkwardly at him- "putting this back." He frowned.

"Why would you steal a fake cast?"

"I didn't, Brook did," I told him, not offering any other detail than that. He came closer to me, taking the cast from my hands and flipping it over, his fingers running over the little heart Brooklyn had drawn. There was pain in his eyes when he looked up at me again.

"Do you love him, Andy?"

The question flustered me. "I, uh... we've not really been together that long."

"It's been a few months," Jack pointed out. "You must be able to tell whether or not you're falling for each other."

"What does this have to do with you?" I shot back, uncomfortable with his sudden line of questioning. This was possibly the first proper conversation I'd ever had with Jack and yet I definitely would have preferred the awkward silence over whatever the hell this was.

"Because I love him."

"Sorry?"

"I love him, Andy. And I know he loves me back so if you had any decency you'd get out of the way." I took a few moments to let this sink in, my already overloaded brain just about buckling under this sudden influx of new information.

"Let me guess," I said, putting the pieces together slowly. "You told him this over Christmas which is why he's pissed at you now?"

"Oh, he definitely didn't tell you the full story, did he?" Jack smirked.

"What are you talking about?" I knew I shouldn't be probing into this, having agreed with Brook that it was easier for the both of us if we kept whatever shit that had gone down for each of us over break to ourselves. But when Jack was taunting me with the truth like this, I couldn't suppress my curiosity.