Frigid Flora

thirteen - serious talk

My feet skidded to a halt. "Please don't call me immature when I distinctly remember a few months ago leaving you alone in my closet for all of two minutes only to find you wearing my bra. As for the not understanding part, is it so hard to believe that I just want some time alone?"

"Yes. You're the first person I've met that prefers their own company rather than mine. It's quite silly actually because I'm so charmi-"

"Parker," I groaned. His engine was idling next to me, just like it had been when I found it after leaving my therapist appointment. Following me around hallways and to my front door was one thing, following me to my therapist and waiting outside when he was supposed to be in school was another. It was like we were back to square one again, when he hunted down my workplace and sabotaged my temporary job along with the shop itself. "This is why I don't want to talk to you. You're incapable of a serious conversation." As was I but that wouldn't help my point any if I said it.

"So you're avoiding me because I'm unable to hold a serious conversation, not because of the night you drove me home from that bar and all the shit I said during?"

I tried my best to pretend as though his answer hadn't shocked me but I didn't compose myself quickly enough before he noticed my wide-eyed glance. So I began walking again, willing him not to comment on it as I started counting the paving stones I walked over. I reached forty-two before he gave another futile attempt at conversation.

"Is what I said really so repulsive to you?" The question caught me completely off guard and my left foot hooked on an uneven paving stone, forcing me to stumble rather than walk.

"What you said?" I echoed.

"Don't play dumb, Flora." He heaved another exasperated sigh. "Just get in the car so we can talk all of this through. As fun as it is to play stalker, it's beginning to get a little tiring."

"No."

"You can't avoid me forever."

"I'm not getting into that car with you."

"Do you really want to leave it so long that I give up? Is that what you want? To never talk to me again?"

I hesitated.

Noticing my uncertainty, he continued. "You don't even have to reply. You just need to sit with me and hear me out, that's all I'm asking. You can leave whenever you want."

I paused. "You won't lock me in the car or do anything stupid like that to get me to listen to you?"

"I swear."

I nodded mutely before climbing into the seat next to his own. 

He drove for a while in order to find a parking spot. Once he pulled over, he angled his body toward me as much as the limited space of his truck would allow him to and opened his mouth as if he were about to begin speaking. He closed it soon after.

I waited for him to begin, picking at my cuticles in discomfort. My nails were far more grubby than usual. A thick layer of charcoal was stuck underneath each one thanks to my morning art class and it gave off the impression that I'd been digging through mud like some kind of wild animal. I made a mental note that once this terrible conversation was over I'd lather my hands with soap.

"I'm sorry." He said eventually.

"For someone who was making out that they had so much to tell me, I must say, that was pretty anticlimactic." I said evenly.

"Honey..." He trailed off and I watched as he ran a hand down the length of his face. His hazel eyes were tired and they reminded me of his mother. "I don't know where to start."