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Disclaimer: You guessed it – I still own nothing
The long ride home is punctuated by lengthy gaps in which only the sound of the motor and soft strains of his mopey music break the silence. Usually you might poke fun at the songs he was playing (your taste in music is slightly more hardcore) but tonight every smile he directs at you is performed with gritted teeth and the storm cloud beneath the surface of his eyes matches the thick fog filling your mind.
“I just knew that if I called Jim he would – ” You know what he would have done to. He would have run straight to her side, angry boyfriend be damned. “He didn’t exactly take it as well as you did.” Right. Because you’re cool with it. A kiss was just a kiss, a crush was just a crush. You’ve never actually tried to punch Pam’s face in, even if you’ve imagined that type of scenario a few times (The parking lot would be the best place to break her nose).Jim hasn’t so much as glanced your direction since you got off the freeway. Even so, when you reach your apartment you give him a goodnight kiss deeper than entirely necessary, trying to push away the little buzzing noise near your ear that reminds you this is partially a favor to her. “Do you want to come in?”
“Um… tonight?”
You pull back, offended. On your first few dates it was respectful, polite when he declined your invitations. But his eyes were looking somewhere to the left of yours and you weren’t fooled anymore. “Why not?” you ask, hoping, hoping you don’t know the answer.
“It’s… just been a long night.”
“You don’t have to lie.”
“I really am tired Karen.”
“Well luckily for you I happen to have a pretty comfortable bed,” you whisper, leaning in to place a kiss near his ear.
“Karen…” His voice was a warning, not an agreement.
“Yes?” Your lips follow the curve of his jaw.
“Seriously, not tonight alright?”
“What’s your problem?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes!”
“I just spent a whole evening at a party I didn’t want to be at talking to people I didn’t want to meet. Then after you dragged me there you spent the whole night making me feel like shit.”
“Seriously? It was a prank Jim! You pull them all the time!”
“That’s different.”
“How? Because you’re doing them with Pam?”
The cloud in his eyes explodes into drops of acid rain. “Okay, I’m leaving.”
For a moment you want him to. Want to let him go home and let Roy beat the crap out of him because it’s not your problem. It shouldn’t be your problem.
Then his lip splits, a bruise blooms and ripens on his cheek, his eyes become dark and battered. And it would be impossible to watch him drive away. To hell with Pam, you want answers and you’re getting them.
“No, you can’t.”
“I can and I am. Please get out of my car.” You stay put, arms crossed protectively across your chest. “Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow okay! I just… need some time to myself.”
“No, I mean you actually can’t. Roy’s looking for you.”
“Roy – what?”
“Pam called me tonight.” Waves of sick pleasure roll through you when his eyes pop out of their socket. “Apparently she told him about that kiss back in May and he was pretty angry. She asked me to keep you from going home tonight, just in case.”
“Was she okay?”
Definitely not the right question. “Why’s he trying to kill you?”
“Roy um – was she hurt?”
“She called me Jim, how am I supposed to know?”
“Well did she sound hurt?”
“Jim. Please. I know that she wasn’t telling me something and you obviously know what it was.” Somehow his hair, which you had convinced him to comb out, is all scruffy again. How did that happen?
“Um… Pam and Roy. They were, uh, involved. Before.”
“What?” He glances to the side as you try to compose yourself. “Involved?”
“Engaged.”
Engaged. “And in five nights, after you said you told me everything, you never felt the need to mention that.”
“That was before – You know, I really can’t do this right now. I have to go.”
“She doesn’t want you over there. She didn’t even want me to tell you. So just come inside!”
For a moment it seems you’ve defeated him. Every indication given by the slump of his shoulders and his bowed head suggests victory. But then he looks at you. For the first time all night he looks at you, actually looks at you. “You don’t get it. I can’t… I can’t think right now. I can’t talk. I just… I have to see if she’s okay.”
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
You shouldn’t have said it, you shouldn’t have had to say it, but it slipped out anyways. And her face, usually hard to read is now impossible to glean any information from at all.
Then she reaches down to unbuckle her seatbelt.
“Fine. Do whatever you want. But if you go then don’t expect me to stick around. We’re done.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and those words are the most heartfelt you’ve ever spoken in your life, save for five.
“No. You don’t get to apologize. Have a good life.” She slides off her seat and out of the car, hands tight on the door as if getting ready to slam it shut, then hesitates. Finally she looks back at you, eyes both softer and sadder and whispers “Just try not to get yourself killed, okay?”
“Okay.”
