Speak to Me. (Scömítche)

Chapter 2

POV: Mitch
About an hour later, I work up enough to get my butt back up and join my friends. The fireworks were still going on, but nobody was really paying attention.
"So uh, are you ok, Mitchie?" Kirstie asked from across the balcony. I give her a nod and I glare down at the floor, as if the floor had punched me or something. But no. All the floor does is show scuff marks and it makes you trip.
"Well, you can tell us what's wrong, if you want," Avi said from the chair beside me. He pulled his beanie down further over his head. Yeah it was cold, but it's either I'm just not feeling it, or my ass is already too frozen to feel anything. Wait..... Does that even make any sense?
"Yeah I'm okay. Just pissed, is all," I say with a shrug.
"Okay. You need some time?"
"Maybe. Well, yeah. I guess so. I'm kinda making a decision that's pretty tough at the moment." I say. I could break-up with Travis, but who's to say I don't just start bawling my eyes out and ask for forgiveness? I'm just a weak, scrawny little dork who just happens to be able to sing a few notes. If I hadn't met my gang in high school, God knows where I could be now.
In a bar, maybe. Or in Pittsburgh. I could see myself in Pittsburgh.
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About an hour later, everyone had left "Casa de Scott and Mitch." I dunno. Needs a new name.
Scott sat on our ugly brown couch, reading something on his phone while I put things away. That's kinda how it goes in this house. Except for Scott reading. That rarely happens.
"So, what are the decisions that you told the guys about earlier?" Scott asked, putting the phone down and started to lean in the doorway of the kitchen entrance.
"I can break up with Travis or live with him constantly avoiding me. But I don't know. I don't wanna screw up my decision."
"Well. I'm not allowed to say my opinion about Travis," Scott says simply, avoiding my eye contact.
"You saying you don't like Travis?"
"Damn right I am."
"Why?"
"Well I've only seen him around like, what, twice?"
"Point taken. But that's still not helping me," I say, rolling my eyes.
"I want to help you."
"Then what do I do?"
"Break-up and find someone better."
"I thought you'd say that."
"Look, it's not my choice. It's yours."
"And back to square 1. Where we stared."
"I need a beer."
"It's like midnight."
"Yeah. But I need a beer."
"Well, I'm not stopping you. Just don't get yourself all drunk. Night Scotty," I say quietly, and I brushed past him. I just won't to be alone. And I'm just really stressed and pissed at Scott and at Travis and other things. I don't look back when I hear Scott's muffled "g'night, Mitch" call after me. I keep going, so I can make this stupid decision quicker and finally be happy again.
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