21

"Something I've done that I can't outrun

Maybe you should wait maybe you should run

But there's something you've said that can't be undone

And you fall away from your past

But It's following you"

-The Fray, Fall Away

•~•~•~•~•

*one week later*

Ding, ding!

The bell on top of the small, old-fashioned, nearly abandoned diner chimes, letting everything inside know of my presence. The salt-and-pepper haired, middle aged lady behind the counter'a head snaps up from the Victoria's Secret magazine she was reading and her eyes focus on me. She comes to life then, a genuine smile flashing onto her face as she stands up straight and tall.

"Good morning, dear!"

"Good morning." I reply shyly.

"Let me show you to a table." She says. I look around.

Nobody's here except for an old, Middle Eastern lady in the corner. Her hand shakes as she tries to hold her tea still for a sip. I'm sure I would have no trouble in finding my own place to sit, but I bite my tongue and nod, following her to the left side of the checker-floored diner. She stops in front of a tiny round table with two chairs, as that's the smallest amount of chairs they have at one table. She smiles at me as I sit down, and I force one back awkwardly.

"Do you already know what you want to drink or should I come back later?" She asks politely as she sets a laminated menu folder in front of me.

"Iced tea, please." I always get iced tea. It's what my mother used to get when we would go out to eat with Dad, before...

I shake it off before I start tearing up in the middle of this little restaurant.

"Coming right up." She turns to leave, but I stop her.

"And, um, a coke for my friend." Ross an I have been on much better terms lately. We've actually started hanging out as friends.

"Alright, no problem!" She smiles once more before turning around and gliding behind the counter.

I sit in silence, staring at the table under me, fiddling with little scraps of straw wrappers as I wait for my drink. Since the place is nearly empty, I get it in record time.

"Thank you." I say as she places the cold drink in front of me, and the coke at the spot across from me. I take the lemon wedge off the rim and am about to squeeze its juice into the tea when the door dings once more. I look in the direction of the noise and see Ross walking in, taking the hood of his jacket off his head as he smiles slightly at me, waving shyly as he makes his way over to the table.

"That's your friend?" The woman asks, a smirk on her face.

"Yeah..." I say, not really understanding the look she's giving me.

"Hmm..." She hums.

"Hey." Ross says to me as he sits down on the opposite chair.

"Hi." I reply with a coy smile.

"I'll be back in a few minutes to take your orders." The woman chirps before leaving us alone with a wink in my direction. I blush, looking at Ross. His eyebrow ring jumps up as he raises his eyebrow with a crooked smile. My heart leaps and I shake my head, looking down at the menu.

"What do you usually get here?" I ask Ross, making conversation but also genuinely curious because I've never been here before. Ross just invited me to have breakfast with him this morning before we go to school.

"Their pancakes are amazing, I love to get the ones with the little chocolate chips baked into them."

"The chocolate chip pancakes?" I ask skeptically.

"Yeah, the add so much whipped cream and..." He trails off as he notices me laughing at him. I cover my mouth with my hand as I giggle at my friend... Friend. It's so strange but so comforting to ba able to call him my friend.

"What?" He furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

I shake my head, laughter still present but dying down. "You're such a kid."

He rolls his eyes at me. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, nothing." I reply, still smiling as I pick up my menu and study it for something appetizing. I'm interrupted by Ross' musical chuckle, causing me to look up at him. His eyes are focused on my iced tea.

"Iced tea?" He directs his smirk at me, hazel eyes flicking upwards to make contact with blue.

"Yeah. What of it?"

"You're so posh." He teases. The word sounds weird coming from his lips. "Too good for chocolate chip pancakes. You prefer the fancy shit." I laugh at his absurdity.

"You're so immature." I laugh.

He grabs his coke and takes a swig. Then his eyes widen and he says, "Sorry, madam." Before taking it back up and sticking his pinky in the air, mocking me. He puts it down. "Better?" He asks.

"You're insane, Ross."

"Are you ready to order?" The woman appears out of nowhere.

"Yes." I say. "Ross, go first."

"As you wish, madam." He continues with a ridiculous accent. I'm not sure what nationality he's going for, British or Indian? "I'll have the chocolate chip pancakes."

I take one glance at the menu and order a breakfast taco. She asks what kind of side, and I tell her to just get me fries. She smiles at me before turning around and leaving once more. When I turn back to Ross, he has straws poking out of his nose.

"Ross!" I squeal, laughing my ass off at this point. "Take those out!" I then lean over and yank them out of his nostrils myself, contradicting my previous command.

"You're obviously high."

He laughs and rubs his nose.

"You know, I just realized... We don't know shit about each other." He says randomly.

"Well..." I stare at the table with uncertainty, tracing patterns on the plastic before look up into his eyes. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." He answers quickly.

"Like wha-" he interrupts me.

"How about we play truth?"

"Truth?"

"It's truth or dare, but without the dare. We just ask each other questions. You can only pass once. And if you pass on a question, and ask me one, and I don't pass, then I win."

"Okay." I'm not sure where this will go, but I can always pass on a question if it gets too personal.

"Okay, me first... What's your favorite color?"

"Is that seriously the best you could come up with?"

"Just answer the fucking question, God." He jokes.

I roll my eyes with a smile. "Blue. Yours?"

"Yellow. And that counted as your question." He smirks.

"What? But-"

"Nope! That was your question... Okay, when's your birthday?"

"July fourteenth, nineteen ninety-three."

"December twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-five."

My eyes pop out of my head. "I'm older than you?!"

"Yeah..." He says, frowning slightly for some reason.

"You seem so much older than me." I speak my mind.

"Hm..."

"My turn." I say. I think for a minute, searching around for inspiration. I see a framed map on the opposite wall. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Colorado." He says.

"Really?"

"You have to quit being so shocked at every answer I give." He laughs. I join him.

"Sorry, I can't help it."

"Okay my turn," He says, taking a drink from his half-empty coke. Gulping, he places the glass back onto the plastic table. "What do you want to do once you're out of college?"

I frown. I haven't thought about plans for the future in years. Now, all I'm ever worried about is getting through the week. There's been points when I've been doubtful that this traumatic cycle I'm in would never end, so the least of my worries was post-college preparations. "I've always wanted to be a writer. I want to have a stable job with good pay but I also want to have enough free time to do things I love, like art. And I want to learn to play the piano." I ramble on and on.

He smiles, eyes twinkling like stars in the daylight. "That's cool... I can play the piano pretty well, I could teach you."

"You can?!" I ask, wide-eyed. He playfully glares at me. "You just don't seem like the musical type." I explain. "Who taught you to play?"

His eyes turn stone cold, the wall coming back into view. He clears his throat, looking down at the table, or rather, anywhere but at me. "Um, my mom." It's obvious I hit a nerve.

"Oh," I say. He stays silent, not even acknowledging my presence anymore. I panic and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, "I heard about what happened to her. To you. I'm really sorry and I know I shouldn't be bringing it up but-"

"Can we please not talk about this?" I can't place his tone.

"Yeah... I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

Luckily the waitress pops out of nowhere, saving us the burden of an awkward silence. She places our food in front of us and we eat in silence. I clear my plate in no time, since I haven't eaten in a day and a half. I frown when I realize that Ross didn't say one word the entire time we ate. I feel so guilty for bringing up his past like that, even though I didn't mean to. His distancing himself again, which is the opposite of what I want him to do. I want to move forward with him, not the other way around.

Ross pays for the bill, still not saying a word. I get up after he does and together we walk to the door. His mouth stays firmly shut as he swings the glass door open with one arm, stretching his chest which I brush against as I walk out the door. I thank him quietly and he only nods, the hard stone face remaining emotionless. We crunch gavel under our feet as we make our way over to Ross' car. He opens the door for me again, and I don't even thank him this time. He would only give me a nod, barely acknowledging me.

Once sat on the freezing leather seat, I shiver underneath my clothes, wishing I had worn more of them. Ross comes in seconds later, twisting the key into the ignition, bringing the car to life. The heat is only half way up, so I take the liberty of turning it all the way. He switched the radio on and loud music fills my ears. The drums and guitars are loud and screechy and the guy on the track is screaming dark lyrics. I cover my ears instinctively and quickly swift it off.

"Don't touch my fucking radio." He spits.

"It was hurting my ears."

"I don't give a shit."

"I do! That music is awful."

"Oh, and I'd love to know what you think is good music." He says, words dripping with malice.

"Not fucking emo screamo shit that should come with a warning about causing deafness."

"Deafness isn't even a word!"

"Stop yelling at me! I know what you're doing! You're not really mad about any of this, you're just picking a fight about stupid shit because you're still sulking about me bringing up bad memories. Which is perfectly fine, you have every right to be upset about it. But when you start treating me like shit? That's where I draw the line." Once I'm done chewing him out, he presses his lips into a hard line, clearly defeated. The rest of the drive to campus is filled with the crushing silence of unanswered questions.

As soon as we're parked, I practically jump out of the car. I walk as fast as I can up the sidewalk and away from the infuriating, broken man who takes his anger out on anybody who gets close enough to care.

"Julia!" I hear from behind me, along with the thudding of combat boots on concrete. I ignore him, of course. "Julia!" He grabs my wrist, and I yank him off. People begin to stare, but I don't care.

"Why the hell are you running away from me?! I'm just mad, okay?! Don't I have the right to be mad?!"

"You're always mad, Ross! That's the problem! No matter what I do, no matter what I say, no matter how hard I try you're always so mad! And I don't like being around you when you're like that. I'm so sick of you right now." I keep walking.

"And I'm sick of you, too! You're so difficult and fucking nosey! You give me so much shit and you're so irritating, you drive me fucking insane every moment of every mother fucking day!"

I stop in my tracks and turn around to face him.

"Then why are you still following me?!"

"I have no clue!" He says, pulling at random strands of his hair in frustration.

"No, no you really don't." I say, shaking my head as I walk towards the school at a normal pace. When I don't hear the familiar sound of his boots hitting the pavement, I know that I've won the argument.

But I feel so empty.