latch :: calum hood (rewriting)

xxii.

"Thanks for coming over." I softly thank Michael, who sat on the floor adjacent to my bed. He had been wearing a beanie, since he had went too far on a particular dye and his hair was not "presentable". He nods, accepting my gratitude.

"Anything to help. I know you must be feeling like shit." Michael mentions. I had called him right after Ashton left, because he was going to investigate more about Jenni and if she's telling the truth. A part of me thinks that Ashton knows more than he is saying, but I brush the thought off because I completely trust Ashton with a situation like this.

I didn't say a word to him on the phone, since the moment I dialed with trembling hands and shaky breath, he instantly knew I found out. It was pretty late, on a school night of course, but I could not bear to open a book or have the thought of school cross my mind.

"Calum," I spoke up, "A father." I was baffled, that being all I could say in the last half an hour we spent in silence as I tried to my best not to break down because I am sick of feeling my chest cave in and my lungs burn as every part of my being crumbles into nothing.

Michael sighed heavily, nearly as shocked as me. He opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, knowing that anything he could say wouldn't help at this point.

"Me and him talked about having kids once." I turned to lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. "Not now of course. I want to graduate high school, university, have a decent stable job ." I sighed feeling my throat shrink, closing air from traveling.

"He was going to continue to the band with you guys. You guys would make it big and I'd probably be some big time social activist making sure kids in Africa have clean drinking water. We'd meet again, maybe in some crappy coffee shop in the UK, because it's one of his favorite places to visit. I'd order tea at a coffee shop, with milk and sugar. He'd probably order his coffee black because he doesn't have me there to remind him that he takes it with cream, two sugars. We'd get our orders. I'd noticed that he finally has facial hair."

Michael chuckled at my comment, granting me a moment to laugh as well.

"He'll offer to buy me another tea, reminding me that I only like brown sugar because during my years of adolescence, I kept him up for hours rambling about the hard labour that occurs in South America to make your cheap, unhealthy white sugar. We'd sit and catch each other up on life. I would laugh until my stomach found itself aching as he tells me ridiculous stories about you guys on tour. Hopefully you won't be bald by then. He'd ask about me, and I'd tell him I live in a tiny apartment, because I'm always traveling. I would have probably had a boyfriend named Ryan, who I dated for three years, after meeting him on a mission in some third world country. Ryan asked me to marry him, but I said no because I knew that I had still loved Calum, wherever he may be in the world. Ryan would have made a wonderful husband, to someone who deserved him. Someone one who accepted the fact that he cared more astronomy than if the house were clean, or that he had to have take out 3 times a week even though he complains about being broke. But I wanted someone who completely gets me, who I mesh with. Someone like -"

"Calum." Michael cut me off from my rambling session. I found my head spinning, catching my breath as I just spoke about the future, and how content I would be if that had happen. If 24 year old me, was sitting in a worn down stool, across from Calum, and I would fall for him all over again, like I had when I was seventeen.

And a part of me hopes he'd fall for me again too.

"Yeah, the future seemed brighter nearly a year ago. Before everything happened." I looked over to Michael, who had a scar above his eye that had faded a bit since the accident.

Before the accident, before our breakup, before Jenni, before all of it, everything was fine. But all I'm holding onto is bittersweet memories that pains my head and leaves a stale taste in my mouth.