Headlights

09 Midnight

Just take me home.

→

Sitting at her window seat brought back a sense of déjà vu, but she couldn't determine which event resonated with her the most: the wait that brought them together or the wait that tore them apart. She was ready with her new purse in hand and her coat already draped across her shoulders. Teagan had helped her pick the outfit, so she looked put together with her bright red lipstick and little white dress.

She hoped so.

She saw a dark shape pull into her driveway, exactly on time. Clutching everything in her arms, she tried her best not to wonder, as she always did, but her mind won out, like usual. Why didn't he turn on his headlights? Why was he so timely now? Why did she care? As she stumbled to her front door in her high heels, he knocked on the door.

Slowly, she opened it. He absolutely took her breath away under the light of her porch door. God, he was going to kill her in that sports jacket with no tie, crumpled hair and all. Hesitantly, she stepped out and accepted his arm, walking with him to the car, where he opened the passenger door for her.

She looked around and leaned back as he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. Why was his car so clean now? There were no promotion fliers in sight, and she could see the floor where she placed her feet. She wasn't even aware that he had ever listened to her jokingly complain about the papers.

Something inside her whispered, "He still cares..." She took a breath. Maybe he did. But she couldn't go down the road of heartbreak anymore, and he—he took life as a game that he always won, whether it was in love or in war.

When he got into the driver's seat, starting up the engine, she tried her best to keep her eyes away. But he turned to her, eyes illuminated by the light of the city in the distance, and said, "It's not in the city."

"Mmh?"

"The theater. It's a little place in the suburbs that opens every few months for big events. That's why the tickets were so expensive."

"What's the event?" She resisted the urge to lick her lips. She had already redone her lipstick three times as she was waiting, and she couldn't remind him about her forgotten purse or else she would come home with him and lose the battle.

"New Year's Eve's in a couple of days, after all." He paused. Then, almost sadly, his eyes appraised her face. "Do you have any plans?"

They were supposed to spend New Year's together. If he made any more references, she wouldn't be able to stop the drinking spree she had gone off on these past few days.

"No. I'm busy." When his eyes turned back to the road, she desperately wanted to add, No! I'm going to be busy drinking over you on New Year's because I can't fucking get a new start! But she held it in.

He didn't say anything for the rest of the ride. But as she stared out the window, the grafittied walls of the buildings outside New York City fading in and out of the lighting of the street lamps, she felt his eyes on her, a burning presence that she couldn't acknowledge. And she kept on staring, staring until light and dark began to blur together and there was only Calvin with her in the world.

↔

He parked smoothly. For a New Yorker with a car, he was damn good at driving, and she tried to block out all the memories of the time she had challenged him to take her to work through the morning traffic one day when she was ten minutes late. God, he was good. He knew exactly where he was going, exactly what he was to do, exactly what he needed to tell her.