uncontrollable (completed)

just go

I didn't see Dan the next day, it was a tuesday, and he had the radio show. That's when I realized I knew his work schedule. But, he texted me about a party he and Phil were throwing on friday. "Party? Friday? My house?"

I didn't text him back. I tried to, but every time I started to type something out, nothing seemed right. I almost just sent back a smiley face emoji.

Phil came over on wednesday, and found me curled up on the couch with a book- anything but the raven boys.

"Dan killed the interview." He said, sitting down on the couch next to me.

"Did you talk about me?" I asked, half hoping the answer was yes, and half hoping it was no.

"No, I didn't think you'd want me to." He said, yawning and leaning back on the couch. After that, I dropped the topic. We watched a movie together, and then an episode of one of the animes Phil was obsessed with the moment. Before he left, he asked me if I was going to the party.

"I don't think so. I wanted to go see a movie in the cinema." I lied.

Phil smiled. "Have fun! What are you going to go see?"

"I have no idea." I responded, and after a few more minutes of mindless banter with Phil, I said my goodbyes.

I didn't want to go to the party. Even though I liked Dan, I didn't like parties. And I didn't want the first time I saw him after what happened to be at a party. With party people, with any people.

....

It was friday night, and what was I doing? Sitting at home on my laptop and moping. I liked Dan. A lot. I liked looking at him. I liked listening to him- though sometimes I hated listening to him talking to other people. I hated the way he seemed to pass out smiles like it cost him nothing, like he'd never run out. He made it look so easy...

Even standing. You'd never realize how much work it takes to hold yourself up until you saw Dan leaning against a wall. He looked like he was leaning on something even when he wasn't. He made standing up look like lying down vertically. Just thinking about Dan's lazy hips and loose shoulders just dragged my memories back to the bed.

I'd spent the night with a boy. I'd slept with him. And never mind that's all I'd done with Dan, it was still a huge deal. I had slept with a boy. A guy. And it was awesome, warm and tangly. What would have happened if we had woken up some other way? Without Phil barging in. Would Dan have kissed me again? Or would he still have rushed off, with nothing more than a "later."

I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I looked down at my computer screen, I'd been mindlessly scrolling through tumblr, and somehow gifs of him showed up on my dashboard. It seemed like Dan was everywhere I turned, whether I liked it or not. I hadn't decided if I liked it or not. I liked him, but did I like that I liked him? Could I handle a relationship, even if this whole mess even worked out? It scared me. I was scared of letting Dan down, I was scared of not being enough for him. I wanted to be the type of girl that could go to this party. I wanted to be able to date people I liked.

I looked over at the tall, full length mirror on the back of my door. I stood, up and walked in front of it, examining myself in the mirror. I looked exactly like I was, a washed up twenty something with dark circles under her eyes. I shook my head, and tilted my chin up, trying to emulate the cool confidence other girls seemed to exude. "Hey, I'm the cool one." I told myself, shaking out my long, dark hair. "Give me some tequila. I totally won't have a panic attack in your bathroom later. Want to french kiss?"

And this was why I couldn't date people like Dan. Because I still said 'french kiss' and he could just slide his tongue into people's mouths without thinking about it. I sighed, and looked into the mirror again. Have you met me yet? I'm the pretty one.

Then, the door swing open, the door knob digging into my ribs. "Shit." I said, falling halfway towards my bed, and halfway towards the floor.

"Shit," Eliza echoed, stepping into the room. "Are you okay?" I put a hand to my side and continued sliding across the floor.

"Jesus." I moaned.

"Mara? Why were you standing in front of the door?" Eliza demanded, hands on her hips.

"Maybe I was going to go out." I shot back, still holding my hand to the sore spot on my ribs.

"I was just coming in to check on you. Are you going to that party thing?" Eliza asked, leaning against the door and ignoring my obvious pain.

"Um," I said, not sure. "Yeah, actually. I've just got to get dressed." And then I stood up from my spot on the floor, still clutching my ribs where a bruise was sure to be forming.

"Okay," Eliza said, turning to exit the room. "I'll leave you to it, then."

I looked down at what I was wearing. Leggings, and a grey tee-shirt. Not good enough for a party. I dug through my dresser drawers, looking for something.. nice enough for socializing. I came out with a pair of black skinny jeans and one of my nicer tops, also black, but with some sort of silver thread woven into the fabric.

I had makeup somewhere.. In one of my drawers. I found mascara, an eyeliner pencil, and a crusty bottle of foundation before going to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. When I was on my way out, Eliza was sitting on the couch, alone for once.

"Look at you." She said. "You look.. nicer than usual." I groaned, feeling to helpless to snark back. "You look fine," She repeated. "Shake out your hair, it looks good that way."

I shook my head side to side, like I was emphatically disagreeing with something. Eliza sighed and got up, coming over to grab my shoulders, taking my head in her hands and shaking my hair at the roots.

"If you're not going to blow it out," She said. "You might as well look like you've just been fucked."

"Jesus," I said, pulling my head back. "Don't be gross."

"Do you have to wear those sneakers?" Eliza asked, pointing to my beaten up pair of adidas shoes.

"Yeah," I responded. "They keep me from turning into that movie trope of the girl who changes her appearance to get the guy."

"It doesn't matter. Phil said he likes you." I had updated Eliza on the situation the other day, she was my closest friend besides Phil. "Apparently he talks about you like something he found in an art museum"

This confirmed everything I had feared about Dan wanting to buy a ticket to my freak show. "That's not a good thing." I said.

"Phil said it definitely is if it's Dan." Eliza said. Apparently they'd had a long discussion about my love life- or lack thereof one night while waiting for me to get home. "Apparently he loves that stuff. When he's really sad, he likes to walk around the National Gallery.

That was the biggest gallery in London. There were paintings and drawings galore. "He does?" God that was cute.

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Just go."