Hellos and Hoodies

H E L L O S & H O O D I E S

"I am teaching myself
how to be free."

- f+tm

WREN KNEW SHE shouldn't have been there. At the back of her mind, she knew she had a mid-term the next day at 9 am sharp. Instead, she was slumped on a bar stool, gazing at the bartender, silently willing him to give her a glance. When he did, she gave a half smile, holding up her glass.

    "Another one, please and thank you," she smiled, but it felt silly considering her drunken state.

    "Look," the bartender came to a stop in front of her, sighing, "I've not said anything, but I think you need to stop. I've watched you down five drinks in the past fifteen - "

    "Yeah?" Wren asked, quirking her eyebrows. "Thanks for the info. Now I need another drink. Pronto. And make it stronger."

    Another sigh and a drink was in front of her. Wren knew she was drunk, but she also knew she had to forget everything tonight.

    It had started with the rings. Before that, everything had been perfect. He had transferred to Yale the second semester of their freshmen year, and Wren had been ecstatic to know that she could see him everyday. They had moved into a small studio flat the second year, and had lived together in the same place since then.

    Then the rings. Wren didn't even register that she had forgotten to wear her promise ring until her friend pointed it out.

    "You haven't been wearing your ring lately," Thea had phrased it like a question, but she knew it was a statement.

    Caught off guard, Wren smiled guiltily. "Yeah, I found that I'm actually allergic to that kind of silver."

    Thea had brushed over the fact quickly, knowing that Wren didn't want to talk about it.

    But then, he had begun coming home later and later. One night, when Wren had stayed up to wait for him, he stumbled through the door, the first few buttons of his shirt undone and crooked. They had looked at each other for a while until she silently slipped away to bed.

    After that night, Wren realized that he wasn't wearing his promise ring either. She had found it alone in his bedside drawer. But she didn't want to believe him, because he had promised her that he would always love her. And suddenly, all of her insecurities she had tried so hard to push down came back.

    Wren constantly doubted herself, and believed that she wasn't good enough for him, no matter how many times he tiredly reassured her. Deep down, Wren knew she wasn't the girl he wanted. He wanted everything easy. He wanted pretty girls who partied and never studied. And he easily got them with his looks.

    She was losing him.

    "Asher," she mumbled in his shoulder one night, when they were quietly watching a movie and munching on popcorn. He didn't smell like he used to. His old, comforting scent was covered with the smell of butter, coffee, and perfume. "We can't keep doing this."

    Everything was wrong and they both knew it.

    "Doing what?" He looked down at her, and that old spark of love was no longer there.

    Wren sat up so that she was level with him. She wrapped her arms around herself - her t-shirt was nothing in comparison to the hoodie he had made her burn. "You know what, Asher." She sighed, "This isn't love anymore. I was good enough for you then, but not now."

    She suddenly realized why she considered his eyes like crystals. They were icy, distorting, and capable of breaking, which was exactly what he was. His blue eyes searched her own, and she watched as they changed from confused to broken. "I'm sorry, birdie."