Commute - Camp NaNoWriMo April 2015

Chapter Forty-Nine - Telling-Off

The graphic designers have worked wonders and now Batman is sitting on a crowded train, holding a newspaper, covered with my words - my words! The paper is positioned in a way that makes it easily readable, but it actually looks like it's an article on the newspaper.

I bounce around the kitchen when I get home - then stop sharply when I notice Jamie watching me with a tired expression on his face. I sit down next to him on the sofa.

"What's wrong, Jamie?" I ask.

He just sighs.

"Seriously, though. What's wrong?"

"You really want to know what's wrong, Maya?"

I nod fervently - then realize it's probably going to be something bad. About me.

"It's you, Maya."

Told you.

"What have I done?" I whisper.

"Just... everything. I know you were in that crash, and you've got a new project, and everything, but... Maya, you haven't asked about me for months. About how my day went. About how I've struggled trying to find a job. About how I've lain awake all those nights, worrying about how I'm not contributing enough to the shopping that we do, the things we buy. I'm leaving it all up to you. And we never talk about it! Never. Whenever we talk, it's always all about you. How your job is going, about your friends on the train, about how painful the memories of the crash are... I understand that you like the sound of your own voice, Maya, but the world doesn't revolve around you. Do you even get that?"

I look down at my lap, going through the past through months in my mind. Yes, I realize. We haven't talked about him for months. It's just been all about me. Every conversation we've ever had... was about me.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," I say quietly.

"Sorry is just a word," he rebukes. "It doesn't make up for all those times..."

"I know, okay? But it's a start."

"It's a start," he repeats. "If sorry is the start, you've got an awfully long way to go before you reach the finish line."

"What can I do to make it up to you?" I cajole. "I'll make pancakes with maple syrup every morning! I'll buy you a new... a new whatever you want! I'll... I'll..."

"I don't want you to do anything, Maya," he sighs. "Just change, okay? Change the way you talk to me. Change the way you greet me when you get home - OMG, Jamie, you will not believe what Charlotte Finley said to me today! - that sort of thing. I know more about these people's lives, Miranda French, Mr Clifford, Charlotte Finley, than they probably do themselves! You know nothing about my life."

"Yes, I do!" I protest. "You go out to parties, with Dave, and Ryan, and... and..."

"What else do I do, Maya?"

"You, uh... look for jobs? You go shopping?"

He closes his eyes in despair. "See? You know nothing!"

"I do! I really do!"

He just shakes his head and leaves the room, leaving me there, staring into space, feeling sorry for myself.