H2O | ✔

Chapter Eleven : Soup

Xander

5 weeks after Mesi woke up...

I stared up at the ceiling in frustration. Everything was so complicated! It was like the world was made up of a bunch of tangled strings that I had no idea how to unknot, and every time I tried I got nowhere.

The whole situation with Mesi had me in a tizzy. I was doubting my decisions. Was it right to tell her so much? Should I have listened to her parents? Was I going to make her sad again? Why did she always seem so keen to push the subject under the rug?

I tossed the soft little soccer ball I kept on my bedside table above my head and caught it. Toss, catch. Toss, catch.

The rhythm of the ball climbing and falling through the air felt like the only thing that made sense in my life. I could calculate the rate it was going and how much wind resistance there was on the way up—easy—but I couldn't tell you for the life of me what I was going to do about Mesi.

And it was more than just everything with Sam.

Mesi drew me in like I was a moth and she was a flame. She was addicting to be around, this new Mesi. She was almost completely different from who she'd been before. Even when Sam was alive, I don't think I ever saw her so happy.

It was great to see her happy. I wanted her to be happy. But it also hurt. It felt like she had found some magical way to move on and I was still stuck in the past. I didn't want to forget Sam...I just wanted the pain to go away. I wanted to stop being haunted by him in every smiley face and yellow rain jacket and soccer ball, and hell, I saw Sam every time I looked up at the sun. He was everywhere and I just wanted it to stop. Mesi found a way to make it stop. I just wished I had the guts to follow in her footsteps.

No. That's wrong. Even if I had the guts, I could never do it. I had to take care of my mom and her. Mesi. She would never know Sam if I wasn't around. She would never know she'd felt real love before.

That's the train of thought that made me feel like what I'd done was right.

I sighed. Mesi deserved to know about Sam. I just had to keep telling myself that. Nobody should forget their first love. No matter how much they wanted to. It wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to Sam.

Sitting up on the bed, I placed the small soccer ball back down and slipped on the shoes I'd left on the floor. 

My converse. My trusty, trusty converse that I'd had since freshman year. I wore them almost every day, they'd seen just about as much of the world as I had. We shared a lot of the same memories.

"Mom! I'm going out!" I shouted through the house as I ran down the stairs and out the door. I wasn't quite sure where I was going, but I knew I needed to walk.

I passed the playground where some kids were playing on the slide. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips, threatening me with a memory from long ago.

Sam and I snuck out of the house one rainy day and made it all the way to the playground. We got so muddy that when we went back home, our parents just put us in the shower with our clothes on.

I stopped in the coffee shop on the corner to grab some hot chocolate. It was warm in my hands, helping to bring them back to room temperature from the slight chill outside.

I sat in one of the chairs by the window, watching the world go by. It was one of my favorite things to do.

A mom and her child walked by. The child was fussing with her braids and the mom kept scolding her for messing them up. Just as they were going out of my line of vision, the little girl huffed, folded her arms, and gave up.