Can We Talk?

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49

"Wait, Anastasia!"

    "Calum, just leave me alone. Please," I call out. Ignoring the pleading boy following after me, I swipe my palms against my tear-streaked face and swiftly ascend the balcony steps two at a time.

    Wet footsteps make prints against the paneled wood and my vision blurs with tears as I wonder why the hell he's even bothering. Calum and I weren't friends, we would probably never be, and his loyalty was with Luke. He shouldn't care about upsetting me, let alone care about apologizing for doing so. It just didn't make sense.

    I reach the balcony door, clutch the handle, and go to slide it open, but just my luck — it doesn't budge; someone must've locked it. My voice cracks when I mumble, "Great", and that does it. Defeated, I bow my head and welcome the tears that stream steadily down my face. I officially take back what I said earlier: this night has gone to hell and I'm a fool for letting my guard down for even a second. What was I thinking?

    "Anastasia," Calum tentatively whispers, finally catching up to me.

    I can feel him standing directly behind me and embarrassed, I tuck my chin into my chest and fervently shake my head; a silent plead for him to back off.

    "Annie, I'm sorry. I had no place, that wasn't fair of me to s—"

    "Please," I hiccup, tears and snot dripping off of my nose. I reach up and roughly drag my forearm across my face. Gosh, why can't I stop crying?

    A hand cups my shoulder, hesitant and careful, and then all at once I'm being turned around and fully coaxed into warm arms. "Come here."

    No. I don't need this.

    I've been doing so good at keeping to myself and bottling it up.

    I don't need this.

    Those are the untrue mantras I force my brain to repeat, as my palms flatten against Calum's warm torso, meaning to push him away. But then, his hand presses against my back, soothingly rubbing, and the next thing I know, I'm fisting his shirt between my fingers and full-on sobbing against his chest.

    I drain all of the anxiety and the heartbreak and the feelings of solitude and rejection from the last few weeks out into my tears as Calum tightens his arms around my shoulders and softly voices comforting encouragements from above me.

    "Let it out, you're fine." His voice is comforting, his touch pacifying, and even though all I've wanted lately was this kind of affection and attention and care, I still can't help but to wish it were a certain someone else's arms.

    It helps, but it isn't enough.

    With that, I force myself to snap out of my reverie, and carefully, I untangle myself from Calum's hold; averting his questioning umber-eyed gaze. I yank my sleeve over my hand and drag it underneath my runny nose.

    "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," I rush.

    Bad idea.

     My throat feels like I've swallowed both a cactus and a human heart whole. I pause and swallow carefully; taking my time saying my next words. "Promise me you won't tell Luke about this."

     Calum stands silent for a moment, and when I glance over, he's watching me with impassive eyes. Then, reaching up to comb his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, he closes his eyes, sighs, and says, "I can't."

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