On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight - "Delayed Gratification"

“You’re probably right. Francesca Holloway just wanted to say goodbye. You should come in soon. Looks like a drizzle’s coming on.”

I stared up at the dark, star-less sky. Slowly, I got up, “I’m going to go find her. You still going back tomorrow?” I asked, as Jay disappeared around a corner.

Trey gave me a half-smile and nodded, “Yes.”

“Well, call me. And thank you for coming tonight. It made all the difference in the world.”

“Hey, I was happy to. It’s actually good for business; stuff like this. It helps my image.”

I laughed, “I think your image is doing just fine, Trey.”

“Good night, Chloe,” he said with a wink.

I replied and headed into the contrasting lit-up interior of the house. I didn’t know enough of the house to know where to look for Sarah, but I ended up in her room and found her in the bathroom.

She was sitting on the floor, wiping the running mascara off her face. To say I was alarmed was an understatement.

The woman who slept with a gun; did Kung Fu with a punch bag; could snap her fingers and get whatever she wanted, was crying. I was simply shocked.

“Sarah? Are you . . . What’s wrong?”

She laughed embarrassed, in between her running tears, and shook her head, “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

I sat on the floor next to her and peered into her face like she always did to me, “I’ve never seen you like this, so it has to be something.”

She sighed, “It’s really childish and so pathetic. I can’t even stand myself right now.”

I laughed, “No more pathetic than I was.”

She managed a smile, “It’s . . . Jake.”

“What happened?”

“I screwed up. Then, I screwed up some more. Then a little more, and then, a whole lot. And . . . it can’t be fixed. Not this time.”

“What happened tonight?”

Shrug. Tears. Sarah’s crying was so silent, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell she was crying if you looked at her from behind – no sniffling, no shaky shoulders or shaky voice; just calmness and tears.

I patted her shoulder gently and she said, “He said goodbye. He’s leaving, for good. I know he deserves better than me, and I know I don’t even deserve him, but I’m just sad. Most of all, I just want my friend back; I keep thinking if we’d just stayed friends, none of this would be happening. But it’s not about me. He just deserves better.”

I had no idea what the right thing to say to that was. She didn’t look like she expected me to reply, but I felt like I should. I just didn’t know what with.

“Did you enjoy the party? I thought the hors d’oeuvres were pretty good, but I saw this guy spit something out, so you know, that could just be my taste buds. Imagine if there was a way we could synchronize taste, so that everyone tasted the exact same thing, because you can never know really if taste matches. I guess that’s the point—” I broke off, unable to take Sarah’s shocked dumbfounded expression any longer, with a straight face. I laughed, “I’m trying to take your mind off it. Did it work?”

She blinked a few times and then laughed through her tears. She wiped her eyes and replied, “Yes. It worked.”

I handed her a tissue and she dabbed at her eyes, “What is it with us girls and bathroom floors?” she muttered.