Memory Documentation

chapter three | documenting a rekindled friendship

"You're right," I answered softly, noting his failed attempt to hide the conflictions battling in his expression. Okay, so maybe Ben did judge Chris's situation right. If he really did go through an earth-shattering breakup (as Ben very much liked to put it), how come he could act so... carefree? And happy?

Then again, people smile through their pain all the time. Jessica told me once that faking a smile and fooling everyone with false happiness was her first line of defense. I, on the other hand, suck miserably at hiding my emotions, so I usually run and hide so I can be sad by myself. I can't show sadness or be sad with anyone other than Papa. It's an old habit I've failed to overcome, too.

Chris could be the opposite, but I didn't want to outrightly spring the question on him, so instead I asked, "So, why'd you look all bummed out when you came to the café the other night? What was that all about?" Sheepishly, I added, "You know, before I slammed a hot chocolate in front of you before running to the kitchen."

An outburst of laughter wiped away any trace of hidden gloom on his face, replacing it with an amused smile. "You actually scared the hell out of me when you did that with no warning, Darce. And I'm pretty sure one of the employees was laughing when you walked away."

I growled internally. Stupid Ben.

"It was really awkward, okay?" I shot back. "Ben was the one who told me to kick you out, but you looked so sad that I wanted to try and do something nice to perk you up."

Chris leaned back with complete seriousness in those blue depths. His eyes were better described when you've been looking into them for a while, because they weren't a vibrant popping blue but a stormy grey blue. "You tried to soften the blow with a drink on the house, huh? I would've got up and left if you shouted at me from across the room, but the hot chocolate was definitely a pick me up. Thanks for that."

"It was really no trouble" – well, maybe a little bit with Papa – "so don't worry about it. But really, though, are you okay? It looked like you were mourning the death of a relative or something."

He shook his head. "Nah, not a relative. Just a heartache is all. No big deal."

Well, there it is. I guess that saves me the debate I was going to have about whether or not asking him would be insensitive of me. Either way, the truth was bad news nonetheless.

"Come on, Chris," I murmured. "You don't have to be like that with me."

Silence fell upon the table. Chris stared down at the beyblade in my hands. A few moments passed before he spoke, his voice hoarse. "I was the one who dumped her."

I blinked. "If you were the one who dumped her, then why are you upset?" Did he realize it was a mistake?

"We were together since early sophomore year. I've noticed the shift in things: not saying 'I love you' back, trying to spend less time with me. I found out from my friend Marissa that she's had eyes on someone else for a while now, so I let her go. They got together not long after we broke up, so that's why I was sitting here eating my sorrows down with food off your menu like I was a man in a bar drinking my sorrows away with some booze. So... yeah." He stopped, scratching the top of his head. His once long blonde mop of hair was now a much shorter, curlier mop of hair.

"Oh, Chris. I'm sorry." My heart broke for him. I thought back to all the times I saw them stop by the classroom across the hall. Chris always kissed her cheek before he left. She would always smile and laugh with him. I didn't suspect a thing. Now I wanted to cater to his eating sorrows, maybe even pay for all the hot chocolates he needed as his replacement whiskey. That's a pretty long time to be with someone, and there were a lot of great memories to be made during that time span. And while she moved on as fast as the hare, Chris was moving at the tortoise's pace.