You may actually hate me for this... umm... yeah.
Music: I don't care about real love, I just want a world that'll bear its own weight
Of all the stupid things to do.
Of all the reckless, pointless, stupid things to do.
She was so angry she could scream.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Stupid brain, stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid judgment.
Stupid Atwood.
She was so angry she could scream… or cry, she couldn't decide which.
The room was pitch black, faint moonlight cutting stripes across her bedroom floor; across her feet as she stood up in the still of the room. She could hear his breathing – steady and rhythmic – coming from the bed; could see his vague outline as he lay – sleeping and beautiful – in the aftermath.
She found herself in the bathroom, the tile cold against her bare feet, the thin fabric of the t-shirt she wore barely keeping the winter chill at bay. She should take a shower; wash the smell off; the traces of him. The feel of his hands; of his lips; of his body.
She needed to wash him off.
And maybe if she was lucky – but when was she ever? – he'd be gone when she finished. He didn't seem like a heavy sleeper – maybe the sound of the shower would wake him up and he would just take a hint and leave. Although, considering his past record in the leaving her alone department, that wasn't likely.
She just didn't want to face him – tell him to get out. She didn't feel like doing it; she wasn't sure she could. She couldn't help herself around him.
It was all his fault, too – making her feel again; making her think he was her friend; making her trust him. It was all his fault that she was powerless against him; helpless against the steady hold of his eyes; the hypnotic way he gazed at her.
Oh, she was a stupid, stupid girl.
He woke up to nothing.
Well, not nothing; there was a soft mattress under him, cool air in the room. But it was dark, pitch black and eerily silent and he blinked rapidly to try and refocus his eyes. He tried to get his brain to remember where he was – quickly ruling out his house in Chino and the pool house. Seth's room? No, no hint of snores or whiny indie music.
Plus, he was naked, so he really, really hoped he wasn't in Seth's room.
He swung his feet off the bed and stood up, taking a step forward – only to stop when he stepped on something soft and squishy. It was a doll – one of those Care Bear things with a rain cloud on its stomach and he had a flash – of soft moans in his ear as he scattered pillows and the blue toy off the bed before throwing her down on it.
Right. Taylor.
His hand went automatically to run over his face as he sighed. It probably hadn't been the healthiest thing to do – sleeping with her. Especially since he'd only just broken up with Marissa that morning. Yeah, he was a saint.
He scanned the ground for some trace of his clothes – ignoring the sock in the corner; that was useless. His boxers were nearly kicked under the bed and he pulled them on before figuring out what to do. Well, he'd figure out what to do after he went to the bathroom.
The bathroom wasn't too hard to find, but his progress was kind of hindered by her standing in the doorway. Which also solved the mystery of where his shirt had gone. He sighed loudly and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Hey."
She jumped, bare feet swiveling on the tile to face him. Her eyes widened, like she was surprised to see him.
"Hi, Ryan." Her hands strayed to the bottom of the t-shirt, pulling it down to make sure she was covered – which he actually thought was pointless, it's not like he hadn't already seen it.
"I guess I should go," he shrugged nervously. She nodded and they stood in silence. "Um… my shirt?"
"Oh, right." There was an awkward moment where she seemed to debate how best to go about giving it back. Finally she just pulled it off and handed it to him, not meeting his gaze, and he diverted his. He pulled his shirt on and went back into her bedroom to find his pants.
She followed him in and crossed the room to her closet. He couldn't help sneaking a look over his shoulder as she opened it and grabbed another shirt for herself. Her skin was pale and smooth in the moonlight and he forced himself to look away as she put the shirt on.
"I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow," he ventured and she nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "Bye."
"Bye."
She kept her head low the next day at school as she walked through the halls.
By third period, she'd heard all about Ryan and Marissa's breakup. She couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or not. On one hand, it was nice to know she hadn't helped him cheat on his girlfriend.
But on the other, she couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach, because she was obviously just a rebound.
Not that she'd been expecting anything to happen with Ryan; she wasn't so naïve. What happened… what they'd done was a one-shot deal; she knew that. It was just… she'd been hoping it'd happened because he'd actually wanted her, not because he was getting over Marissa.
Of all the stupid things to do.
It was weird; the amount of gossip going around school. Everyone was acting like this breakup was some huge deal, like it was the biggest event in Newport history.
Hadn't they seen it coming?
Looking back, it was so obvious. All those months; all that time spent on their 'break', it was so obvious. He hadn't seen it then, because God help him, he loved the girl and there was still some tiny, idiot part of him that believed they could actually work out. But he could see it now; it'd been obvious the whole time that this breakup was inevitable.
He was never going to get the girl, no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried. He wasn't going to get the girl because she couldn't seem to be happy with him.
He was happy with her. When he was dating her, it was like a mixture of undiluted excitement, hope, and disbelief. And she acted the same way; for a while at least. But every time – every damn time – it always started to fade; she always found something more interesting. Something more exciting.
She didn't want a relationship; not like he did.
He'd had enough excitement in his life, enough random people, enough being passed around, enough movement to last him ten lifetimes. He wanted to settle down. Well, maybe not settle down like get married – because the thought of marriage made him have panic attacks – but settle down and live quietly.
He wanted a girlfriend he could watch movies with; sit on the couch and eat popcorn and not have to go out and do something exciting every night. He wanted a girlfriend that'd be ok with his lack of talking, that wouldn't expect more from him than he could give. He wanted a girlfriend that would be satisfied with what he had to offer; not constantly be looking for something else.
He loved Marissa but it wasn't ever going to work. And on some level, Marissa knew it, too. It was why she hadn't been able to give him a straight answer; it was why she kept putting off the inevitable.
She loved him, but they would never work.
Work was actually better than it had been in a while.
Maybe people sensed her depression or maybe it was just a slow night, but either way, it was nice. The wash boy – Marco, as she'd come to find his name was – didn't hit on her once. He was actually really nice tonight; he'd given her a lot of compliments that weren't sleazy. Sheila had patted her shoulder at one point and told her to hang in there.
Hal was his normal grumpy self, but no surprise there.
Even the customers left her alone to sulk. A couple of them even smiled at her and thanked her for doing her job.
Maybe she should be this pathetic more often.
And she felt slightly better as she drove home after her shift – Sheila had bought her a cup of hot chocolate and hugged her goodbye. She was a nice woman and she tried not to think that her coworker was a better mother than her own had been.
But when she got home and went up to her room she found Ryan lying on her bed, holding onto Grumpy Bear. She'd forgotten that she'd shown him the key to her house a month ago – it was stupid for him to sit on her porch, waiting for her to get done with her shift. So she'd told him where it was hidden so he could wait inside for her.
She was such a stupid girl.
"Ryan."
"Hey, Taylor." He sat up abruptly, shoving the bear under her pillow, like he didn't want her to see him playing with it. If she didn't have such a black pit where her heart should be, she would've found the movement adorable.
"Come back for seconds?" She turned away from him to throw her apron in the hamper, silently cursing herself. Why the hell had she said that? It was stupid and juvenile and she just wanted to say the right things to make him go away.
"No." She heard the bed creak as he stood up and she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was rubbing the back of his neck, like he was uncomfortable. "It's just… I guess you heard about me and Marissa?"
"What? That you broke up? Ryan, Helen Keller could've heard that rumor today in school." Oh, great. Reference Helen Keller, that didn't make her sound like a horrible human being. Not at all. While she was at it, why not pick on Gandhi or Mother Theresa or the Pope? Or kittens.
People liked kittens, right?
"I just wanted to apologize. You know, for last night… I was outta line."
"Don't," she shrugged, keeping her back to him. "There were two people in that room, Ryan. You don't need to apologize – although it is nice to know I didn't help you cheat."
"Yeah. But it was wrong; I shouldn't have… I feel like I used you, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that."
She wanted to tell him that yes, she did. She deserved every horrible thing that happened to her. But she didn't say it, because the last thing she needed was Ryan being all sincere and telling her she meant something. That she had value beyond 'rebound'.
"It's ok."
"So… we're good?"
"We're fine, Ryan." She turned to face him, finally. He looked so upset, she wished he could just get it through his head that he didn't have to worry. Not about her.
She wasn't worth it.
"Friends?"
"Sure." She gave him her best smile and stuck out her hand for him to shake. After a few awkward, confused moments, he shook it.
"I guess I'll see you around."
"I guess."
He nodded and left the room and she let out a sigh of relief. When she finally heard the front door open and close, she fell onto her bed and dug Grumpy Bear out from under her pillow, curling into a ball around him and falling asleep.
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