At some point Ruthie thought that it was actually possible to die of boredom. It wasn't confirmed or anything, but maybe, she thinks as she sits Indian style on the floor of her dim lit room, that she would be the first to prove it true. Ok, so it might have been her fault, a small fraction, so minuscule that you really needed an eyeglass to see it, or better yet, a microscope. Either way she was sitting alone, eating Oreo cookies at twelve at night…oh no!
She looked at the cookie she hadn't even realize she was holding and tossed it back down to the plate. Ruthie didn't need to worry about gaining fifteen pounds and top of everything else! She took a deep breath. Tomorrow she would take a morning walk or something.
The day had gone so slow today, and she wasn't in the mood for anything after what had happened last night. Her dad had gone to work, and he had spent most of the day at the office, so had Lucy. Kevin was around the house earlier with Savannah, but it was mostly awkward conversation along with even longer awkward posses in-between. She winced at the thought of her and Kevin actually doing that again. Then it was the twins, they were bugging her like always. It was summer so they really had nothing to do but be annoying. Mom was mom. She told Ruthie about a very strange dream. One where she swore she heard Martin and her arguing at two in the morning. She said it must have been a dream because Ruthie would never have Martin, or any boy for that matter, over so late at night. Ruthie quickly changed the subject. Mom gave her the "I know something's going on" suspicious look the rest of the day.
Fifteen minutes later.
Ruthie went to get a glass of water from the bathroom, and when she got back she let her curiosity take over. The street wasn't his, right? Slightly opening the white certain of her window, she peaked through the small opening she had made. It was dark, well except for the lamp posts lighting the streets, and one house. The Brewer house had one light on, the window in the middle of the second story. It was Martin's room, and it made the house stand out in the darkness.
Ruthie felt anxious, and could feel herself begin to fidget. Maybe...maybe if she could find it in her heart to forgive...
No! Take a stand! you are mad at him remember?
Ten minutes.
The cell phone was staring at her. It was on the nightstand just inches from where she was sitting and it was just commanding to be seen, taunting her with its power. Call him. It would have said if it could talk, and if it could, now would be the perfect time to question her mental state of mind. She needed to get a grip.
It lay there with its pretty little pink flowered cover she had bought at a small shop in Scotland. It had been that day she had talked to Martin, when she had made up that fake boyfriend because Sandy was there. She liked Sandy now, but back then, Ruthie could have had an annoyed, roll of the eyes spasm by who damn happy they both sounded. Ruthie really disliked her, because in her sixteen-year-old mind, Sandy had been the enemy. Now, Ruthie knew better.
"Martin and Sandy are getting married…" Mac had broken the news later that day.
"Ugh!" she cried out in frustration. Every time she thought of the ways he managed to make her so angry, disappoint her so bad, or just plain hurt her, she got mad at herself for letting him still get to her like that.
Meredith, Sandy, Jane. Always them before me.
She could already feel it, the sting in her eyes, the way her throat clenches, and tightens around her, almost chocking the air out. This was it; the moments Ruthie hated the most. When the memories rush back. The times that she swears that these will be the last tears she will ever shed for him. She feels the first one trail down her check. It's hot and it stings. She could feel the sob in the middle of her chest forming, and it aches so badly there.
Ruthie rests her head between both her knees trying her hardest not to remember. Maybe this is the way to do it, she thinks. To cry herself dry until she can no longer hold any resentment.
Why did she choose T-bone? Simple. She loves him. Yet, if Ruthie really thinks about it, the answer becomes simpler. He could never hurt her like that. No matter if he cheats, lies, or disappointers her, Ruthie knows her heart could take it. With Martin everything falls apart.
She feels two hands on her shoulders. Ruthie's eyes are blurry with tears, and in dark room she can only make out a faint silhouette of who is standing in front of her.
"It's ok. I'm here" the voice offers sweetly in the mist of the darkness that surrounds her.
Ruthie looks up and smiles in between her sobs.