Currents

Twenty-two ~ Free

Twenty-two ~ Free

My stomach churned as I crossed the beach towards Brent's post. He'd noticed me coming and descended his ladder, his hand curling around one of the rungs when he reached the bottom.

"Rosalie." His voice was gentle and formal, seeming apprehensive even though I'd not yet said anything.

"Listen, Brent, there's no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna come straight out with it. When I got home yesterday, Alastair was there."

His eyebrows shot upwards, and he folded his arms, defensiveness immediately apparent.

"Alastair? Your boyfriend?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth—"

"Please don't." He held up a hand. "You don't owe me an explanation. It's fine."

I swallowed, assessing his tense posture and stony face. "Are you sure? I mean, you don't seem fine..."

"What do you want me to say, Rosalie? You said yourself you're not a cheater, so don't waste both of our time by pretending like something could have happened."

While I could understand his annoyance, I couldn't help being offended by his snappy attitude. He couldn't keep going Jekyll and Hyde on me. It wasn't fair to kiss me and be affectionate one day, then irritable and standoffish the next, especially when he'd known about Alastair from the start.

"There's no need to be like that," I said. "You were aware of my situation..."

"We're done here."

Were we back to square one again? Brent's attitude had frustrated me from the day we'd met, but I'd worked hard to prove I wasn't the girl he took me for, and each wall I'd broken down had brought such a sense of accomplishment. I may not be available for a relationship, but that didn't mean he could cast me aside.

My anger drove me to begin the trek across to my house, but then I stopped. No. I wouldn't let this man walk over me, too.

"Why do you keep treating me like I'm some scum who's beneath you?" I marched back over to his chair.

He'd begun to climb the rungs again but paused upon my reappearance, eyes narrowing. Though he didn't move from his spot, I could see his clenched grip on the ladder becoming firmer.

"Beneath me?" He laughed, sarcasm dripping from it. "How could that be true? You're higher than everyone in this town. I was foolish to assume you might be genuinely interested in me. How could someone like you be interested in someone like me?"

I tried telling myself it was the hurt speaking, but his words still stung. If he wanted to act this way, though, I refused to let him see he'd got to me.

"I guess your opinion of me never did change," I said.

"That's because you've not given it reason to change. What was I? Someone to feed your ego? Keep you occupied? A challenge?"

"You've gone beyond insulting me now," I said. "I'm not going to argue because we both know you're spouting bullshit, but if that's how you wanna deal with this, then fine. We are done here."

If he had anything to add, he didn't bother saying it. Frustration pumped through every vein in my body. But what did I have to be frustrated about? I should have known he was a closed book, unwilling to let anyone peek inside if he didn't get his own way. It was a vicious cycle, and in a moment of vanity, I wondered why I was attracted to guys who were no good for me.

~~~

Reading always made me sleepy: the combination of my eyes absorbing every word, the emotions they induce, and the relaxation they bring.