Incendiary

11. The poems under the paintings

I looked at my record player, which was at the highest volume setting. Grimacing, I said, "Right, sorry." 

I hung up, set down the brush I was using to scrub my kitchen tiles, and ran to the door. I didn't take my gloves off, so it was a struggle to get the door open.

I smiled at her, and she played with the gum in her mouth as she looked me up and down.

Then, she broke out into a laugh. "What happened?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, "I was cleaning."

She gasped, "Who are you, and what did you do to my best friend?"

I rolled my eyes and opened the door wider for her to walk in.

"It smells like lemons in here," she said, taking off her coat.

"That's the cleaner I accidentally spilled into my flower pot," I said, walking back to the kitchen.

"How do you accidentally spill cleaner in your flower pot?"

I shrugged.

She walked around the apartment, inspecting everything, "If you're still in the mood tomorrow, come over and do this to my place."

"Hell no. That place is like a fucking obstacle course," I shuddered.

She stuck out her tongue at me.

Tony came from a wealthy family and used to have somebody who cleaned her apartment every week, but she got cut off from her family's money, so now, she's all on her own.

She plopped onto my couch with a sigh, "Do you think my dad will ever forgive me for buying that boat?"

I laughed, "You sold his golden statue of the dog to buy it."

"I was young and stupid," she defended.

"No. You were drunk and stupid," I corrected.

"That's the same thing," she huffed.

I shook my head with a smile.

She asked me questions about work, and I told her about Theo.

"You know what I noticed?" She asked.

I hummed.

"You stopped calling him Theodore." She turned towards me, folding her arms on the back of my couch and resting her chin on her forearms.

I furrowed my brows.

"You used to call him Theodore, and now you call him Theo."

"Oh." I spoke softly, "Yeah. I suppose."

"Does that mean you're friends again?" She asked with a grin, "Can you ask him for money? I want to buy new furniture for my boat!"

I gave her a long look, blinked, and said, "We aren't friends, Tony."

"Do you think you still care about what happened?" She asks, "Or do you just use it as an excuse, so you don't get hurt by him again?" 

I looked at her for a long time. Sometimes Tony was very good at figuring out your shit before you could even think about it.

In all honesty, I feel like I'm going insane.

Every time I see him- he acts as if nothing happened.

He was the one who was upset that night; He was the one who exploded; Now, he is the one who pretends as if nothing happened.

I don't know what kind of Freaky-Friday shit happened, but I do not like it.

"I think I thought I had closure, but seeing him made me realize that I didn't have any closure. At all," I say.