Snow Day

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Here

December 17, 12:15 PM, EST

For two hours I've been rewriting this script. "Maybe the paper plate needs to come after that…" I think, but then I just toss the pen aside and sprawl out on the floor. Maybe some food would inspire me. While I'm considering my food options, there's a knock on the door. Reluctantly, I trudge over and look through the peephole.

"YOU'RE HERE!" I scream, while I fling the door open. Collins grins and then picks me up off the ground in a huge bear hug. He kicks the door shut, crosses the room, drops me on the couch, and sits down next to me.

"How ya been, kiddo?" he asks with a broad grin.

"Great! You've missed so much, though! I can't believe you stayed away that long!" I'm bouncing up and down on the couch cushions from excitement while tell him this.

"I know, I know," he suddenly gets quieter. "I can't believe I haven't seen you guys since the funeral." I nod. I don't have much to say to that. "But, you know what, let's not linger on that, shall we? Why don't you tell me what the deal is with you and Mr. Cohen, hm?"

I feel bad that I'm about to bring the light, happy mood so far down, but I guess it can't be helped. "Well, um, you know how he was. He… um… He always thought I should be able to get a grip on myself, but I can't."

"You can, Maureen."

"Shut up." It's a little harsh, but I can't help thinking that he of all people should know by now that I can't 'get a grip'.

"I'll admit, it wasn't going to happen the way things were going with you two when I left." Neither of us says anything for a while. "I tried before I left to get him to figure it out. I know it didn't do any good, but I really did try."

I ignore those comments and just focus on explaining what happened like he asked originally. I'm not going to break down in front of him anymore. For the sake of what's left of my sanity, I'll give myself one person that I can break down in front of, and I guess that's Joanne now. If the list gets any longer than that, people will start to figure out what a pathetic freak I am. "He found out that I was having kind of an… um… anorexia- or whatever you want to call it- relapse, I guess you'd say… I don't really know how it all happened, but it started this big fight, and I left." I hate that word: anorexia. I don't have some kind of disease. I just want to be skinny really freaking bad.

Collins sits there and nods in a very philosophical and professor-like way. Or what I imagine is a philosophical and professor-like way. "Left under what circumstances?"

I stare down at my lap. I can feel my cheeks burning, and I wrack my brain for a lie I can tell convincingly. But he's Collins. I can't lie to Collins. "He kicked me out," I mumble.

"The boy's dead."

"Collins!"

"Sorry, sorry." He sighs and doesn't say anything for a while. "I just- He has no idea how much trouble he's in for. How's that?"

"It's really not that big of a deal, Collins," I find myself saying. "I didn't need him after all… I found someone better."

"Ah, so we arrive at the topic of the mystery person whose house I find you in." I laugh and lean up against him.

"Yes, we do."

"Alright, who is this guy? Is he going to treat you as well as you deserve to be?"

"This isn't my boyfriend's place," I say simply. But in my head I add in the fact that Mark treated me how I deserved to be, Collins just wants me treated better than I deserve.

Collins looks down at me with a confused expression. "Then what are we doing here?"

"Well," I say slowly, "you may or may not be surprised to find out that this is the apartment I share with my girlfriend."

"Now, when you say 'girlfriend', you do in fact mean that she's a girl that you're in a romantic relationship with- not just a friend who is a girl?"

"Surprise." I say weakly. It's not that I'm afraid of a bad reaction from him about the concept in and of itself, but I am afraid he's going to be furious with me for lying to him for so long.

Thankfully, he seems to take it in stride for now. He smiles a little. "You mean all those years I joked around about you being bi, I was actually right?"

"No," I respond.

"Maureen," Collins says incredulously, "don't tell me…?" I nod. "But Mark!"

My face flushes what I'm sure is at least twenty shades darker than normal. "It was just stupidity and…" The 'and' is out before I can stop it, so I'm forced to say the last word: the word I never say out loud. Not about me, at least. The 'I' word: "insecurity," I add under my breath.