On The Run

Chapter Twenty-Two - "Pleased To Make Your Acquaintance"

Trey

Kayla.

I tried not to love her, but she made it so terribly hard. To me, she was just amazing, and there was no helping myself. Her complete lack of interest in me certainly hurt my self-confidence, but I had to blame it all on Fitch’s uncontrollable charm and wit.

I watched her flirt outrageously with him, and even though I knew she knew how I felt about her, I couldn’t get mad, but I did hide the hurt by being nonchalant. Maybe it was the nonchalance that prevented her from knowing the exact magnitude of my affections, but I held my pride like a lifeline.

I threw the last set of plastic cups into a bag and tied it up. Ricky was lying on the couch with his eyes shut, and Fitch was wiping the counters of all elements of our spur-of-the-moment party.

“I get that you weren’t here, but if you’re not going to help, just leave,” I snapped at Ricky.

He opened an eye, “No, thank you.”

“Where were you, anyway?” Fitch asked him.

He got up, and without answering the question, replied, “Fine, I’ll go,” heading out the front door.

“I didn’t—whatever,” Fitch said, turning back to the countertop.

I was just tying up the remaining bags of crap when Chloe and Kayla walked in.

“Honestly, I don’t get why we have to go all the way to Stanley’s when the other dry-cleaner's just next door,” Kayla said frustrated.

Sometimes, I tried to ignore her; it was a coping mechanism, not a ruse, but for some reason, she always got me talking. Other times, I just avoided her, but she seemed to end up thinking she’d done something to piss me off, so I ended up making up for it by hanging out even more. Until I couldn’t take it anymore, and the cycle began again.

Fitch, on the other hand, seemed to be occupied with Chloe’s arrival. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with those two, but could you blame me for rooting for them?

“So, what’s next?” Chloe asked, looking around the now almost spotless room.

“That’s it,” I replied.

“Great,” she replied, and walked into the kitchen. Kayla had plopped onto the counter next to Fitch and was already turning on her feminine wiles. I sat at the island and pretended not to notice excitement in her eyes as she listened to him go on about something I wasn’t particularly interested in.

The thing about my relationship with Kayla was, as much as I was in love with her, I also kind of hated her. I couldn’t really explain it, but a part of me wanted to hurt her as much as she hurt me, but then another part of me simply hated the thought of seeing her unhappy.

Chloe was standing on the side trying to reach for the cereal on the top shelf. I was just about to get up to help, when Fitch slid off the counter and stepped up behind her, inadvertently trapping her against the drawers.

She turned so that their foreheads were almost touching, and I could see the slightly dazed look in her eyes as he asked, “Which one?”

“Um . . . the . . . um,” she shut her eyes for a second to compose herself and with a breath said, “Fruit Loops.”

He reached up smoothly and pulled it down, “Here you go,” he said. He had a small smile on his face and that look in his eye. You know the look – almost animalistic.

She swallowed, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, backing away extra slowly.

Honestly, the sexual tension was stifling; I had to get out of there.