Gah! I have so much to say, but I'll keep it short (hopefully)...
1: So so soooo SORRY for the delay! This was not on hiatus! I've been struggling with plot development (I still am) and worked on this a lil each week. I'm still not satisfied with the outcome of this chapter, but oh well! I'm my worst critic.
2. ...which brings me to ask: please let me know what's good/what sucks!
3. Not the best/most interesting chapter, but I have to lay some ground work. Next chapter will start kicking it up a notch ;)
4. Please ignore verb tense from first 2 chapters. I decided to go with past tense actions, but present tense narrations... eh, hopefully you see the changes as minor.
5. Like Delta One, I promise an ending to this story... and every story I write. Never on hiatus, but I do lag like a mofo! (Once I have a solid plot, updates shouldn't be a prob)
And most importantly: THANKS FOR READING/REVIEWING/BEING MORE THAN PATIENT! :D Thanks for the critique, River! esp. with you being super duper busy and all...
ENJOY :) 5.13.09
Disclaimer: I don't own South of Nowhere or the characters.
"Really?" I was so baffled. "I said that?" I made out with Liz? I barely know the girl, not to mention I've never randomly made out with a complete stranger before. That's just not me… even when I'm shit-faced.
"Mmhmm." Aiden quickly rinsed some canisters before starting the next drink. "I gotta say, Spence," he poured some cream into a cup, "you have amazing taste! She kept you smiling… and she's way hotter than Melinda." He grinned, diverting his attention to placing a lid on the cup. "Way hotter." He stressed.
"Thanks?" I was completely frozen in place. Some of the customers gawked at me, wondering if I was gonna pass out in any second. They thought I looked pretty pale. Sheesh! I know I haven't been working on my tan, but that's not very nice of them to judge me for being pigmently-challenged.
"Are you alright?" John, my forgotten customer, glared at me intently. "You don't look too well."
"I-I'm fine." No, I wasn't. I started to hyperventilate as I felt my stomach do a double back spring somersault. Oh not good…
"Here's your Sumatra, sir." Aiden handed him his drink.
"Thank you." He nodded, but was quite hesitant to leave. Keep it moving people! There's nothing to see here! I know I look like a bad car wreck waiting to happen, but…
"I'm just gonna…" I pointed behind me. By the time Aiden got my drift and nodded reassuringly, I was already in the storage room sprinting for the back door. It probably would've made more sense if I veered left into the employee restroom, which was closer. But I lost all coherent thought at that point.
It was another waterfall of every color from the rainbow spectrum. This time, no food chunks. Awesome! I gagged and coughed, feeling every vein in my head constrict. My ears went deaf for a second. I couldn't breathe. My abs tightened and I began to cough out bile. Not good at all…
I hate yacking.
"What the—?" I looked up after hearing footsteps quickly approach. "Spence! What happened to you?"
"Glen?" I coughed once more and nearly hiccupped trying to gasp for air. "What are you doing here?" I rasped as he took notice to my paler complexion.
"Aiden told me you were back here."
"You still haven't answered my question." I finally found myself standing upright.
"Gee, you know Spence?" He leaned against the wall, soaking in his sarcasm. "I would've called, but I guess I'm just sick of conversing with your voicemail. You haven't answered my calls since—"
"I'm not going!"
"Oh you're going alright." Glen retorted so matter-of-factly.
"Stop treating me like a child, Glen!"
"Well, you're acting like one."
"Why should I go?" I threw my hands up during my dramatic tirade. "She doesn't even want me there."
"She wants you there, Spence." His voice lulled in sincerity. "She misses you. We all do." He paused. "But you know mom. She's too prideful to admit it." In that split second, I felt my chest tighten. The anxiety squeezed my throat and scorched my cheeks… and my eyes watered. To think mom can actually be human is nearly impossible. She is void of emotions and everything motherly.
"I don't care," I took a deep breath and fought back the tears. I cannot cry anymore. My eyes have already suffered a serious drought. Maybe I should ration my tears -- Melinda got about 50 percent of my tears, my own self-pity gets the other 50… and mom gets zero. "I'm not going." If I could, I'd give half of my tears to happiness, and the other half to everything else that matters just as much.
"Don't be difficult. I'm not leaving 'til you come with me." He gave me the most serious look he could conjure up. "I'll wait in my car 'til you're off work if I have to." This was serious. He wasserious. There was no convincing him otherwise and he wasn't going to let up.
Glen's finishing his last year at San Diego State University. After finishing a few classes at the community college, he easily transferred into their Occupational Therapy program two years ago. The University was also very impressed with his coaching skills that they made him one of the assistant coaches of the basketball team as of last year. It was tough for many of the players to listen to a coach who was their age, if not a little younger. But as time progressed, he slowly earned their respect.
Glen kept in close contact with dad. And every time Glen heard mom was in the hospital, he'd make his way up the first chance he got. Dad and Glen would always try to call me whenever something was up. And each time, I knew it was about mom. I just couldn't face her… not after she practically disowned me for who I was.
But this time was different. I could tell, not just by reading Glen's mind, but I could also hear it in his voice. I also knew his team had a big game against their rival school today, but even that didn't stop Glen from driving up.
"What's happened to mom?" I am prideful too. But unlike mom, I'm at least a little bit human.
"She suffered a massive stroke."
Five years ago, mom was diagnosed with epileptic seizures after finding out she was hypoglycemic. It was a devastating time for her when the Chief of Surgery at UCLA Medical Center approached her about taking an extended leave of absence. After all, mom was interviewed by the board and was elected for the position once the Chief retired at the end of the year. She thought a little time off would help her recuperate and get back in the saddle. But her seizures worsened and she was no longer authorized to hold a scalpel inside the OR ever again. Needless to say, mom hit rock bottom with depression. Dad tried to be supportive any way possible. He agreed to pack the house up and move to Santa Barbara. She wanted to get away from everything that was associated with the hospital and UCLA… including me. Moving away was the one blatant event that culminated the end of our relationship. But I'd say our relationship's been dead since I was a child.
Mom had grown pretty close to Dr. Alan Carmichael, the top neurosurgeon from UCLA. Right around the time mom resigned, Dr. Carmichael took Head of Neurosurgery at Stanford Medical Center. He'd made arrangements to perform several surgeries consisting of extensive lobotomies, as mom requested. He greatly reduced the number of seizures she had, but mom wanted more. She wanted to get rid of the seizures completely so she could come back to being a surgeon. She even elected electroshock therapy and took highly potent medication, sometimes at dangerous dosages. Her seizures reduced to very seldom episodes, but you can tell that she wasn't the same Dr. Carlin she was from the beginning. The battle had worn her out. Her fight to improve her mental capabilities only crippled her health. I'm not sure how severe her stroke was, but it did have me quite concerned.
"How bad is it?"
"Dad wouldn't say," Glen sighed. "But it sounds pretty bad, Spence." I was hesitant to respond. I know me going there would only make things worse. I'd tried visiting her in the past, despite our total lack of a mother-daughter relationship, but she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. Her mind would drown in angry, hateful thoughts. It broke me. Even though our relationship never really existed, she broke me. And I'd be a fool to want to go there again to where I'm completely unwanted and vulnerable. "Look," he noticed my uneasiness, "even Clay is flying into Santa Barbara this afternoon from New York. I talked to him about half an hour ago before he boarded the plane. We're all going to be there… as a family. So I'm not leaving here without you."
"I get off at 2. You can wait for me at my apartment." I sighed, knowing I had something to dread for the rest of my shift. "Madison's there. She'll let you in."
"Fine." He reverted back to the scene played out earlier, "you okay? What'd you do? Party hard last night?"
"Yeah," I smirked, "just a little."
"With Melinda?"
"No," I groaned at the sound of her name, "we're not dating anymore."
"Since when?"
"Since a few weeks ago. She cheated on me." He looked at me inquisitively, and before he could ask, I cut him off. "Long story that I don't feel like telling because I've been emotionally exhausted these past few weeks, not to mention this news about mom. I just don't have the energy right now."
"Okay," he put his hand on my shoulder and frowned in pity.
"I gotta get back to work, Glen." I shrugged nonchalantly and smiled slightly to indicate that I'd be fine.
"Alright, Spence," he turned to walk back to his car around the corner. "At two o'clock," he tapped his watch, "call me to let me know you're on your way home. Otherwise I'll come looking for you!"
"Yes, big brother." I responded sarcastically as I took a moment to compose myself. I quickly ran up to the employee cubby and grabbed a stick of Orbit gum – for that good clean feeling, no matter what!
I walked back onto the floor and nearly bumped into Aiden as he turned around from the sink.
"You okay?" He dried his hands. "Feeling better?"
"Mmhmm. Much better. Thanks!" I washed my hands in the sink as Aiden turned towards the next customer in line. "I…" Aiden quickly diverted his attention back to me, "wouldn't go out the backdoor if I were you. And if you do, watch where you step."
"Thanks for the warning." He chuckled, somewhat scrunching his nose in slight disgust.
The second my eyes gazed across the café, I was taken aback at the sight of sheer beauty. I watched her curiously as she sat there at the table across the way, contemplatively reading her book. The morning light shone through the window and rested gracefully against her complexion making her face look almost angelic. Oh that face that is more than just familiar. A face I should know very well… because, according to my friends, that's who my face was getting well acquainted with last night…
Really, though? Did I really—? I need some sense of affirmation from Aiden. But damn! He's helping the last morning rush customer. Why is she here? And why so early? Is she here to see me?
Surprisingly enough, answers to my questions were hard to come by. She's not as easy to read as that book that has willingly opened itself to her. If only it were that easy. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn't.
Her thoughts were completely immersed in comparing late twentieth-century neoliberalism to the ideologies of John Locke and classical liberalism. Picture me cross-eyed! It almost made me dizzy just listening. I must intervene somehow to get the answers I want. As I approached her from around the counter, I wiped my hands and patted down my apron.
She continued to lose herself in all these political terms I could not even comprehend until she read the last sentence on that page. She stopped to sip from her green mug of coffee, which was nearly half empty. Hmm… half empty. Am I being a pessimist for viewing her mug as half empty? Is that a metaphor of some sort? Or am I viewing her as half empty?
Sometimes my thoughts choke me the way fog drowns the coast off Santa Monica beach on a crisp morning… because I was looking dumbfounded. She sat there staring me straight in the eyes. If I were saying words right now, I'd be stuttering. But because I wasn't, I resorted to blinking uncontrollably as I wondered how long we'd been holding eye contact.
"Hi," she smiled.
"Hi," I responded nervously, feeling my legs take me in a different direction. For once, my subconscious saved me. I noticed an empty mug and trash at the neighboring table and directed my attention to clearing it. Still got nothing out of her, other than her checking me out… again. I felt my cheeks blush a bit. Thoughts about last night? None. Well that's a little discouraging…
"How are you today?"
"I'm… I'm good, thanks. How's… how are you?" See what I mean about the stuttering?
"Good." She turned in her seat to face me. "Listen, Spencer," oh geez, "I hope I didn't come on too strong when I—"
"Too strong?" I giggled. What an understatement! I knew it couldn't have been me. Even if I was completely shit-faced, it's so not me to make the first move like that. The first bold move, might I add.
"I just wanna get to know you." What? Your tongue getting acquainted with mine wasn't enough? "Maybe hang out sometime, you know?" I had to admit I was flattered… and a little frightened. Her thoughts told me she'd been coming in here often, usually between classes just to watch me from a distance. Maybe if I wasn't drowned in my own misery, I would've noticed earlier. Has she been stalking me this whole time only to pounce at my most vulnerable moment?
"I think calling would've been a more subtle approach."
"Oh, I agree!" She responded in a somewhat sarcastic tone. "I mean, that's why I did it… so you'd call." She noticed my confused and flabbergasted look.
"Wait. What are we talking about again?" I felt so foolish. It's not often I ask stupid questions. Usually people are so easy to read. Personally, I blame it on the alcohol.
"Giving you my number." Liz chuckled, forgiving me for being so absentminded. "What did you think I was talking about?"
"Oh! I thought we were talking about something else." I sheepishly laughed it off. Well, what about last night then? Was I just… not that memorable? But why would she still want to get to know me if I was a bad kisser? Hmm… maybe she was more wasted than me. Yeah… she forgot about me. I can't blame her though. It's not like I remember sucking face with her.
But I just hate this unsettling feeling of not knowing everything. I'm overly persistent and determined to put all the pieces of last night's puzzle together…
"So…" how can I bring it up without being so obvious? "Last night was fun, huh?"
"Last night?"
"Celebrating the end of midterms?" I hinted. "You know? Hanging out with friends, relaxing…" I cleared my throat. "Partying? Maybe having a drink or two… or three?" Oh yeah… real subtle of me.
"Oh!" And then thoughts of the night came up. Thoughts of her night that were not the least bit familiar to me. "Well, I like winding down in a different way. Some friends and I went to a spoken word night at this hookah lounge downtown. Then we ended the night perfectly with some hot dogs from Pink's. How about you?"
"Uh," I choked. She wasn't even there last night! I was completely speechless. But I tried to recover quickly from that stunned look I seem to find myself in whenever I'm around her. "Just hung out… at the Dubliner." I nodded. "Would you excuse me one sec while I just take this back to the sink?" I put on the most pleasantly fake smile I could muster up.
"Sure." She smiled. I scurried back behind the counter with mug in hand.
"Working on getting another tip, I see." Aiden nudged me with his elbow.
"Why are you and Madison telling stories?" I was so pissed off. They nearly made me look like a dumb ass.
"What are you talking about?" He wiped down the counter with a wet cloth. "What stories?"
"You said I made out with Liz last night."
"Yeah? And?"
"She wasn't even there!"
"Well I don't know, Spence. I wouldn't have known otherwise." He shrugged innocently. "You were the one who told us her name was Liz. Why would I be making shit up?" The sincerity in his voice and his confused thoughts told me he wasn't lying. "Wait. So you mean to tell me—"
"Yes," I stepped closer, noticing his eyes gaze in her direction. "That's Liz over there." Aiden squinted, his thoughts trying to put the name to last night's face.
"That's not her."
"Obviously!" I snarled through my teeth, simultaneously stomping my foot on the ground. His eyes panned back to mine as he noticed my frustrated state. "What'd she look like? Tell me."
"Well…" "God, she was hot! I'd tap that ass…"
"Not helping."
"Sorry." He shrugged. "I can't help it if you read my dirty thoughts." Aiden crossed his arms in contemplation. "I'd say she was average height… wavy, medium-length brown hair… red streaked bangs… piercing eyes… "
"Ashley." I concluded. I had a feeling it was her. Being near her was… peaceful. It was the one memorable feeling I had last night. The one feeling that alcohol could not distort. I still don't know why. Why can't I read her? "It was Ashley." Her name slipped across my lips like a poorly kept secret as I leaned against the sink.
"You sure?"
I nodded.
Okay, well… 90% sure.
I looked over Aiden's shoulder and noticed Liz getting up to leave. She has things to do. She keeps herself busy. I know she's not going to wait around for me. She's very independent, which is a plus, considering her stalkerish tendencies. For a second, I shifted in place, unsure as to whether I should at least say 'bye.' But I hunched behind Aiden, concluding that I've already made such a fool of myself… within the past 24 hours. No need to go over there and make matters worse.
I couldn't explain what I was feeling. Ashley's presence alone intrigued me. But to know that she was there, smiling and talking to me at my lowest and most vulnerable point… I was even more curious as to what I might have said or done… or what she said or did for us to share in a lip-lock. Then again, is it possible that I was making a big deal about kissing a complete stranger? Was she more sober than me to think that what happened wasn't even worth thinking about?
I occupied the remainder of my shift with thoughts and speculations of the mysterious brunette. Who is Ashley? And then I realized I didn't know much about her, but I'd make every effort to get to the bottom of this if I ever saw her again.
Time flew by faster than I could ever recall because the next thing I knew, my phone was vibrating in my pocket. I looked at the clock and noticed it was 2:11 PM. Donny was already restocking the floor as Aiden finished his last beverage and prepped to leave. We all tend to work the same days, but rotate on shifts.
I noticed it was Glen calling and immediately answered the phone.
"Yeah?"
"It's past two, Spence. You coming home or what?"
"Since when did you become dad?" I sneered. "If I said I'm coming home after work, I'm coming home after work."
"Alright, Spence! No need to get crazy. I was just checking."
"I'm just waiting for shift change." And as if she read my mind, Corinne came walking through the door. She had her apron rolled and tucked under her chin as she gathered and tied her hair into a ponytail.
"Sorry!" She mouthed to me as she quickly draped her apron on.
"Okay, Glen. I'm leaving now. See you soon." I quickly hung up the phone and raced upstairs to grab my purse. I had to get back before Aiden got there. Even though things between Madison and my brother are beyond prehistoric times, I know Aiden would get jealous knowing Glen spent the day at our apartment… just him and Madison. Aiden and Madison have this interesting relationship: he's a hound… and well, she's the female version of him. They've both cheated on one another at least once (that I know of), but I think they stay together because they know no one else would ever understand or put up with them.
Fifteen minutes later, I was rounding the corner of our apartment complex. It usually takes me twenty, but I managed to shave a few minutes off during my small jogging spurts. Madison must've said something because I hadn't even set foot on the driveway and Glen was already in his car parked across the street. He flagged me down. I didn't hesitate or even feel like changing out of my work clothes. The great thing about working at a java house is you can never go wrong walking out of there smelling like coffee beans. Besides, a fresh change of clothes wasn't going to make my situation any better or change the fact that I had to go with Glen.
I nearly stumbled off the sidewalk when I stopped dead in my tracks, noticing someone familiar at the corner of my eye. I quickly glanced over and saw Ashley walk across the small residential parking lot to get to the pathway running along the inside of the complex. I jolted in place, my feet unsure as to what my intentions were, because for a second, I considered following her.
"Spence! Come on!" My brother barked with impatience, abruptly making the decision for me. "Let's get on our way before rush hour hits."
I looked back at Ashley and for a moment, we made eye contact. Her brown eyes looked through me with such emptiness. I continued to look at her suspiciously, but she turned away and continued further into the complex. Blood rushed violently to my mildly shaking head as I concentrated really hard on reading her. To Glen, I looked constipated. The way I looked at her made him think I had some personal vendetta against her. But that's just it: all I heard was Glen… and I wasn't even looking at him. I exhaled after momentarily holding my breath, feeling a sense of defeat against that walking fortress. Why can't I read her?
"Any day now." Glen tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as I scampered across the street. I got inside quietly and fastened my seatbelt. "Who was that?"
"Nobody."
"Didn't seem like nobody."
I ignored him.
During the duration of what turned out to nearly be a 3-hour drive, I remained quiet. I listened to Glen jabber on like he hadn't seen me in months… which he hadn't. I only responded with occasional yeah's and uh-huh's to acknowledge that I was listening. He tried to keep me entertained with stories of the girls he's dated and the ups and downs of the various basketball games his team went through. But it wasn't enough to distract me from the looming fact that I had to see mom face-to-face, much less be in the same room as her. I know where I'm not welcomed. So why agitate the situation?
It's like tossing a snowball into hell, I tell ya.
We pull into the vast parking lot surrounding Cottage Hospital. My heart dropped and I dreaded every single second of it. Inside the lobby, we noticed Clay had just arrived at about the same time as us. He was asking the receptionist for mom's room number.
"Clay!" Glen waved him over. He immediately turned to greet us. I'm not one to play favorites, but whenever Clay's around, I feel a little safer. I guess it's because Clay's always given me the benefit of the doubt whenever I felt the world's out to get me. "Did you just get here?"
"Yeah," he let out of our embrace to give Glen a hug, "I told dad to stay put and just took a taxi. I didn't want mom to be alone."
"She's in room 503." Glen led the way to the elevator. He knows the way. He's been here so many times.
We followed him as Clay tried to assess my mood. He knows me all too well. He placed an arm around me and gave me a sympathetic smile. We were totally having an ESP moment.
The cold and elongated elevator made my stomach churn… not the way it did when I drank too much, but the way it does when you're watching a scary movie and know something's going to pop out any second now with that overly suspenseful music. Right about now, I'd give anything to be watching a painfully scary movie instead… like… Texas Chainsaw Massacre… because at least you know the movie would end after two hours and all that blood on Jessica Biel was nothing but corn syrup.
We passed the nurse's station on the fifth floor and took an immediate right into the semi-private room. We found dad watching television and having a one-sided conversation with mom. I tried to slow my pace, but Clay was squeezing me close and nearly dragged me in.
"Dad." Glen patted him on the shoulder. Dad immediately got up and hugged him, but his eyes were fixed on me. I looked at my feet and hunched against Clay, knowing dad was glad to see me, but disappointed that it took me this long to make an effort. "How are you guys?" He attempted to start conversation in order to drive his thoughts elsewhere, knowing he had to be careful around me.
"Good!" Clay hugged him next. Dad reached around and hugged me with his free arm. I saw mom behind Glen. I didn't want to make myself known because she was complacent, just staring at the television. Glen turned and kissed mom on the cheek. Her eyes lit up.
"How was your flight?" Dad had his hands on our shoulders.
"It was smooth. Not too bad."
"I'm so glad you are here..." he looked at me genuinely, "both of you."
"It's good to be here," I mumbled, "though I wish it could've been under better circumstances." Suddenly, I felt the room cold as I noticed mom's head turn slowly in my direction. We all watched her closely, but I was the only one who could see the hurt in her eyes. "How are you?" I spoke up. It didn't seem like she understood what I was saying. Her thoughts were broken and consisted of weird jargon. Her emotions were spot on, but everything else was off. She wasn't herself… and I don't know if she'll ever be.
"She can't speak." Dad's tone was so somber. "Dr. Carmichael was here yesterday. The stroke was so severe that she lost her basic motor functions and speech capabilities. He'll be observing her for the next two weeks and will send her off to the rehab facility once she's in stable condition."
"What's her prognosis?" Glen sat next to her, holding her hand firmly.
"Dr. Carmichael's optimistic. We have to be supportive and positive. It won't be easy for her to relearn all her basic functions, but she can do it." Dad and Clay walked around the other side of her bed. I didn't know what to do or where I should be standing. I felt very grounded and glued against the doorframe. It seemed to be the safest place in that room.
Mom continued to glare at me. Her memory wasn't affected at all. Sure, she couldn't formulate any coherent thoughts or articulate herself. But whatever she was feeling, which was anything but good-willed, she did it intentionally. She was making it known that she didn't want me there… that she despised me and would scream at me to get out if she could.
"Spence," dad motioned for me to come closer. I hesitantly obeyed as my discomfort grew. She felt it too because her heart rate monitor started to beep a smidge faster. At that moment, I hated everything. I hated hospitals and their tiny rooms. I hated how Glen dragged me here. I hated how mom never even tried to understand or accept me. I stood over her… and I hated how she looked at me. The same look she gave me my whole life.
Glen took my hand… and I hated him even more now. He tried to be a peacemaker and join my hand with mom's. She made every effort to draw her hand back. I could tell with how she squinted her eyes. But because of the stroke, she barely had the energy. I held on, hoping she'd come to her senses. She started to roll her head and grunt at me like an irritable child. I know she was trying to say something, but it all came out very inaudible. She threw her head towards dad, looking for someone to save her from my grasp.
"Paula," dad tried to calm her, "it's okay. It's just Spencer." Naïve of dad to think it was because she didn't recognize me. She started screeching, unable to make her tongue form words. I'd never seen mom act so… savage-like. I immediately let go and walked out of the room, nearly crashing into a nurse who'd noticed a spike in mom's heart rate.
I walked towards the waiting area on that floor, peering out the window at the view of the lot below. Tears began to stream down my face. Oh goodness! Just when I thought I had nothing left in my weary tear ducts…
I heard Clay come from behind me. I turned and he immediately hugged me. He'd thought of a million things to say but…
"I'm sorry, Spence," he exhaled.
"Don't be." I let my tears glide down my cheeks and absorb into the collar of his shirt. "It's not your fault."
"I wish there was something I could say right now that wouldn't sound so cliché," he whispered genuinely.
"That's okay." I hugged him tighter.
Clay has always treated me like a grown woman with a mind of her own: he knows not to be overprotective, and he knows not to baby me. I don't know how he figures, but he's always confident I'll find my way out the better end of any sticky situation. That's one of the things I love about him.
The three things I love about Clay: his unconditional love, his optimistic attitude, and the way he hugs me just to show he understands. He's always been the glue of this family.
"Hey," Glen placed his hand on my shoulder, and I felt my anger swiftly take over.
"What?" I immediately shuddered. "Glen, what? What do you want?!" I wiped the remainder of my tears across the backs of my hands. Even I was surprised at my sudden outburst.
"Mom's not herself. She didn't mean—"
"Glen, give her a minute, will you?" Clay calmly interrupted.
"Stop making excuses for her!" I crossed my arms. "I told you I didn't want to come. She hates me! Everyone knows this. Why can't you understand that?"
"She doesn't hate you. Can you just try to—"
"Take me home!" I shook my head, refusing to hear anything else Glen had to say… or think. I walked towards the elevator. "I'll wait downstairs." He understood. For once, he knew he wasn't right. As much as his intentions were honorable, he finally accepted the fact that our issues were irreconcilable.
Glen said his goodbyes and met me in the downstairs lobby ten minutes later, with Clay to see us off. We didn't say a word to one another as we walked to the car, but I knew he felt remorseful. He, too, hated how things were.
"I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay." I hugged Clay one more time. "It was good seeing you." I smiled at him before getting into the car.
The engine hummed with a turn of the key. Glen sighed, and I knew he couldn't leave it alone…
"I'm sor—"
"Don't." I turned to him. "Please, just… take me home."
The drive down was a silent one, aside from the music playing softly from the radio. It started getting dark out rather quickly. I stared out the passenger window and forced myself to sleep, since this would be the only escape from Glen's suffocating thoughts.
I just need some peace… even if it's temporary.