Every day I step into my first hour class, I must admit that I do have some inkling of hope, hope that I might finally understand the mystery that is calculus. Yet, every day, Mr. Todd decides to brutally crush that hope by opting to teach something new.
Today, his choice of poison is the Mean Value Theorem.
As I drag my notebook out from my backpack, I take my sweet time writing the name of the lesson at the top of the page, wanting to procrastinate paying attention for as long as I possibly can.
However, as soon as I finish, rustling can be heard from the spot behind me before I sense a looming presence.
"You have gorgeous handwriting," Margot whispers in my ear.
"Thank you," I respond quietly as I smile to myself.
"Too bad there isn't anything else on that page, and it's been ten minutes already," Margot says louder as she sits back down in her seat. I huff before turning around to face the girl in order to give her the dirtiest look that I can muster.
"Aspen, you're not threatening. Do your work," Margot shakes her head before turning her attention back to the problem written at the bottom of her paper which she finishes solving in a matter of seconds.
Grumbling incoherent curses, I turn back around in my seat and cast my eyes down onto the notebook paper in front of me and the textbook open to the selection of calculus problems I'm meant to be completing.
As my eyes scan over the first problem on the page, I take a deep breath. First, take the derivative of the given expression. Next.... I scrunch my nose as I hastily punch numbers into my calculator and scribble them onto my notebook. With a sigh, I draw a messy box around my final answer, lacking any hope at all that it's correct. Margot will just teach it to me anyways.
Still, I take a quick glance at the provided answers in the back of the book, practically humoring myself at this point to even think that my answer and the given answer will match.
Hold the actual fuck up.
I reread my answer again before flipping back to the answers expressed in the back of the textbook and reading the correct answer. They're one in the same.
Hold the actual fuck up.
"No way," I say quietly, still in shock as a result of my realization.
"What?" Margot demands, clearly confused.
"I actually understand how to do this! You just take the derivative and then put the numbers in and then solve or whatever shit and boom,"
"Yes?" Margot confirms, her lips tugging into a soft smile filled with pride. In a way, I consider that type of a smile a bigger accomplishment, which only makes me happier.
"Margot. I finally understand how to do something first try,"
"Do you understand why you're doing it?"
I scoff.
"Of course not. But I can get the numbers. Look!" I say as I grab my notebook and hold it out directly in front of her face so that she can observe the numbers written beside the problems.
Margot slowly pushes my notebook down so that it's not blocking her face.
"Aspen.... You do know that the questions on the final are going to require an explanation.... right?" Margot asks me, cringing slightly and clearly not wanting to ruin my good mood.
"For the mean derivative thing only?"
I could figure out a basic response to write for these types of problems. If not, I'd only be deducted a few points because I can clearly obtain the correct answer. This isn't terrible news.
"For.... everything?" Margot breaks to me slowly.
Fuck. I'm screwed.
"No,"
"That's what the free response section is for...."
I didn't even know there was going to be a free response section.
"No,"
"Mr. Todd has said it multiple times...."
How did I not get the memo? She has to be pranking me.
"Nope. Math is numbers, Margot," I state definitively as I shake my head.
"If you want me to call him over to confirm it then I will, but you can't just live in denial, Aspen,"
"Margot, I didn't stop believing in Santa until sophomore year. I will live in denial for as long as I want to live in denial,"
"Sophomore year?" Margot asks, clearly in slight disbelief.
"I think Alex is mostly to blame. He thought it would be funny if I kept believing for that long so he went to some extremes to-"
"You're trying to distract me," Margot interrupts my story as she narrows her eyes.
"You interrupted my story," I state plainly.
"You interrupted our conversation with your story,"
"I'm pretty sure that's how the conversation naturally progressed,"
"I'm pretty sure you're trying to forget the actual topic of conversation was discussed,"
"So you're not interested in hearing my story?"
"Nope," Margot responds with a shrug. I instantly let my expression drop as a result of her words. My lip slips out into a pout as my eyes fall down to lock on the notebook still set on my desk.
"I hate you," Margot huffs as soon as she sees my expression. Despite the gargantuan desire to flip her off for saying such a thing, such a lie, I refrain and exude no response other than simply maintaining my somber expression.
"Ok. Yes, I'm obviously interested in hearing your story, dumbass. I'm interested in most things having to do with you," Margot admits softly. As a satisfied smile slips onto my face, I turn my attention back to her, wiggling my eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
"I hate you," Margot repeats herself.
"No, you're interested in most things having to do with me," I quote her as I bat my eyes innocently.
"Just get back to work, Grayson. I'll deal with this problem next tutoring session," Margot sighs before turning away from me, "You definitely don't pay me enough for this."
"For tutoring?"
"For putting up with you," Margot responds, still facing away from me. And yet, I can sense still that there's a smirk playing on her lips.
With a gasp, I quickly hit her in the back of the head, not too hard where spousal abuse could be claimed, but hard enough to be a valid attempt to defend my honor.
"What the fuck?" Margot hisses as she turns to face me, clearly angry about the recent development which.... being pissed off is a pretty fucking attractive look on her. Enough so, that it takes a beat before I even respond to her.
"Sorry?" I offer sheepishly.
"Miss Grayson, might you refrain from hitting other students?" Mr. Todd asks me as he approaches my desk, amusement clear in his tone.
"She deserved it," I mutter under my breath with no intent for him to hear it as soon as he begins to walk away.
"How so?" he encourages me to continue as he turns back around and approaches me yet again, clearly using some sort of hearing super power to have heard me. Nosy bitch.
"She said she wasn't paid enough to put up with me," I respond quietly. With a sigh, Mr. Todd shakes his head.
"Frankly, neither am I. Now get back to work," Mr. Todd admits before turning on his heel and finally walking away, leaving my mouth hanging open in shock, and Margot snickering at my own expense in front of me.
————
"Ready to go?" my girlfriend asks me as we exit our first hour class.
"What? Where? Wait. I'm mad at you," I state as I cross my arms over my chest and begin my attempt to speed away from her. However, she wastes no time in grabbing my arm and tugging me right back beside her.
"Would skipping school to go on a date make up for it?" she whispers to me rather coyly. I gasp as if scandalized by her suggestion.
"Skip out on another fine day of learning within this esteemed establishment?" I question dramatically, "Sure."
Margot smiles at me before grabbing my wrist and beginning to tug me throughout the halls.
"Wait. How?" I ask, never actually having skipped school before, despite Tori offering me the chance to numerous times.
"Walk out those doors," Margot motions to the double doors ahead of us as if it's obvious.
"It can't be that easy," I scoff at her.
It was that easy. The teachers were too busy chatting outside their classrooms to notice anything and the designated hall monitors for the hour hadn't yet reached their posts.
As the cold winter air hits my face, a sense of freedom and excitement accompanies it. I let out a short breath that quickly turns into a soft laugh.
Margot slips her hand into mine and tugs me towards the cars as my heart beats frantically in my chest.
"Wait shit. Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise," Margot answers without looking back at me. I scoff as I shake my head.
"Keys?" Margot requests as she holds out her hand in my direction.
I quirk an eyebrow at her.
"Raider drove me this morning so neither of us would have to leave a car here," Margot explains before motioning yet again for me to hand her my keys.
"So you just assumed that I would say yes to this,"
"I would have had my methods of convincing," Margot smirks.
"Ok, but how planned out is this schedule? Because I have work tonight and-"
"Hey," Margot whips around to face me and takes my other hand in hers, "Don't worry too much. We're gonna have a fucking good time today."
A smile slips onto my face at her words as the billion questions I had circling my brain begin to dissipate.
"Ok," I tell her as I grab my keys from the front pocket of my bag and slip them into her outstretched palm.
I'm with her. I'm with her and I genuinely want to stay in the moment without letting worry about anything consume me. I don't want to taint my memories with her with any anxiety, if I can help it.
Margot ends up driving us a few minutes down the road to a small diner that I've never actually been to before. It's one of those places that my brain registered to be there but placed no further thought into.
As soon as we enter the diner, it feels as though time slows. There's something about the deserted atmosphere and 70s music hypnotically droning on that makes me take a deep breath, taking in the smell of syrup and coffee and something else I can't exactly place.
"Two?" the hostess asks us, in a tone that very clearly displays that she's barely awake. Tilting my head up to meet her eyes, the manner in which they rest half closed staring back at me only confirms my observation. I nod slowly as Margot verbally confirms her questioning before she grabs a couple menus and begins to walk back into the dining area, implying that we follow her.
"Your waitress will be with you shortly," she tells us as we take a seat before quickly turning on her heel and walking away.
After about a minute, a much more awake waitress arrives to ask us what we want to drink before promptly leaving us to actually look at the menu.
It's then, and only then, that I recognize this place for what it truly is.... a breakfast diner. Shit.
"Tough decision," I muse as I stare down at the menu in my hands. And my statement is no exaggeration. Me and breakfast food have never truly seen eye to eye. I've tried to work on it, but to no avail. In the fourth grade, I used to eat eggs at any possible chance I got in an attempt to make myself like them, but I'm pretty sure it only worsened the situation.
"Yes. Along with what college to go to and finding your first house, choosing what exactly to order from this diner is one of the toughest decision you'll have to make," Margot says sarcastically, not even taking an opportunity to tear her attention away from her own menu and look at me.
"Smartass," I scoff.
"Dumbass," Margot smirks as she finally looks up at me, only to see me scrunch my face and refocus my attention on the menu in my hands.
"What?" Margot asks, clearly questioning the manner in which I'm staring down at the menu.
"I'm just not that big on breakfast food in the morning,"
"That made no fucking sense," Margot comments.
"Breakfast food is only desirable from 10pm to about 3am,"
"You lost me," my girlfriend states.
"For the longest time, I was convinced that I just hated breakfast food. Which.... I do dislike most of the items that would generally be considered to be "breakfast". However, of those I do enjoy, I usually only find them desirable during that stated time frame and that's that," I explain to the best of my abilities.
"You don't like breakfast food at all?"
"I like some stuff...."
"Eggs?"
I just make a face, hoping that it successfully communicates my disgust for the food. I shake my head to thoroughly deliver the message.
"At all?"
"I've tried them in every way they are to be served and none have come to satisfy my taste buds," I say with only slight dramatics as I look off into the diner wistfully.
"Bacon?"
"Depends,"
"On what?"
"My mood?"
"Sausage?"
"I really wanna make a joke about how I'm a lesbian, but I can't think of any right now to be honest,"
"What?"
"I just don't like the texture of it," I state.
"Toast?"
"Too bland,"
"Hash browns?"
"Usually too greasy,"
"Omelets?"
"Don't even get me started on those.... Also, egg," I say as the last word of my sentence causes me to shudder.
"You are so fucking weird,"
"Hey!"
"You can't even make an argument. You don't like breakfast food," Margot defends her statement.
"I like waffles and pancakes!" I reason.
"Well then get those,"
"Not in the mood...."
"So.... You're a picky eater,"
"I am not," I say defiantly, firmly believing in my words.
"You're finding fault in the entire menu!"
"Only the breakfast part!"
"This is a breakfast diner!"
"Yes,"
"Avocado toast?" Margot offers. I instantly scrunch my nose in disgust over her suggestion.
"Fucking hate avocados," I mutter as I shake my head.
"You know we can always go somewhere else right?"
"We already sat down...."
"And? We haven't ordered anything,"
"No. That's crazy, Margot. We committed,"
"I just...."
"What?"
"Well I keep fucking up on this whole date planning thing," Margot says with a bitter laugh.
"No!"
"I hit you in the face with a fucking door on our first date," Margot states dryly.
"On accident," I point out.
"And now we're at a diner with food you don't even like!"
"On accident," I point out yet again. Margot, however doesn't find the same humor in the situation as she leans back, casting her gaze to the ceiling, and lets out a groan.
"Margot," I reach across the table and take Margot's hands in mine, causing for her to drop her menu and look back at me, "Don't worry about it, ok? I'm gonna fucking enjoy this because I'm here with you and I'm not locked away in school for the rest of the day. Food isn't gonna change that and neither is a fucking door. Besides, you can just make it up for me by letting me choose next time."
"You're right," Margot agrees, "This is just your fault for being a picky eater."
I instantly disconnect our hands, reviled that she would say such a thing.
"Bitch,"
Margot just smirks back at me.
"I give you this sweet fucking monologue about how I enjoy spending time with you and you, my girlfriend, respond by making untrue accusations against me and my good name," I huff.
"No way was that long enough to be a monologue,"
"Your smartassery is off the charts today,"
"Would you call it uncouth?"
"You're fucking stealing my word!"
"I thought you wanted it to catch on,"
"You bashed it when I used it so you don't get to be part of the trend,"
"Any way I could make it up to you?" Margot asks coyly as she raises an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah. Take back your comment about me being a picky eater,"
"Nah, I care about you too much to keep letting you live a lie," Margot shrugs.
I let out a groan as I turn my gaze away from her and up to the ceiling. A few moments later, the sound of steps draws my attention back down to find our waitress standing in front of our table.
"Are you guys ready to order?" she asks happily as she sets down our drinks.
"Yes," I answer for both Margot and I as I send back a smile to the waitress whose name tag reads Diane.
"I will get the.... strawberry waffles," I drag out as I point to the spot on the menu on which the dish appears.
Diane nods quickly before taking Margot's order and assuring us that she'll get our food out to us as soon as possible before walking away.
"I thought you said you weren't in the mood," Margot points out, referring to my order.
"I acquired the mood," I say with a shrug before taking a sip of my water.
"Because I called you a picky eater,"
"No," I respond quickly.
"Strawberry waffles are like the chicken tenders of breakfast foods. A picky eater's go to," Margot says to me as she tries to hide her smirk.
"I don't understand your persistence on this issue,"
"Your reaction is fucking adorable. Your cheeks get all red and your nose scrunches-"
"Whipped," I cough before meeting her eyes again and letting out a small laugh.
"And what kind of girlfriend would I be if I wasn't honest with you?"
"I'm not winning this one, am I?" I groan as I throw my head back.
"Not a chance," the girl across from me reveals before taking another sip of her drink.
The rest of the breakfast goes rather smoothly. Margot doesn't bring up her unjust accusation again, and decides against bullying me any further for the duration of the meal.
The food quite easily exceeds my low expectations and I end up clearing the plate that was set in front of me.
By the time we exit the diner, our conversation lulls into a comfortable silence as we walk contently to my car with our bellies full. It's only when we begin to drive away that Margot decides to break the silence.
"Hold up. I made you pancakes the morning after I asked you out and you said they were good!"
"Hey. I never claimed that my relationship with breakfast foods was a science or anything. I was in the mood that day. It was an anomaly, but it still occurred," I say with a shrug.
"You are so fucking weird," Margot states as she cracks a smile at my words.
————
"You made me skip school in order to just make me learn shit in a different setting,"
"Way to shoot down my days of planning this date with one sentence,"
"I was kidding,"
Margot rolls her eyes at me before shaking her head. She quickly glances over at the art museum next door, but doesn't let her eyes linger for more than a moment or two.
"There's an exhibit this month on famously unsolved crimes. You mentioned wanting to enter the crime solving field," Margot offers an explanation.
"So you brought me here to solve the crimes. It's all coming together," I continue her thought in a direction I'm sure she wasn't heading.
"You're kidding again," she states as she turns of the car's ignition and steps out into the parking lot.
"Do you not have the utmost faith in my plethora of crime solving knowledge and abilities?" I question as I exit the car and begin to follow her through the parking lot as we quickly approach the building.
"You're referring to the hours you spent watching Criminal Minds," my girlfriend assumes as she politely opens the door to the museum for me, despite my clear efforts to very currently get on her nerves.
"And my natural talent," I add as I step inside. I'm instantly greeted by an eerie sort of silence. It's a type of silence that I don't feel bad for interrupting.
"Of course. How could I forget?" Margot asks rhetorically as she follows me into the museum.
Once Margot purchases our tickets, after insisting that the date was her idea and completely foiling my plan to secretly slip money to the attendant while she wasn't looking, I grab Margot by the hand and practically drag her through the empty halls of the museum.
I make a note to stop every chance I get and truly read anything and everything. If I had come here on my own, I probably would've only read about certain cases, skipping over others entirely. But I want to show Margot how much I appreciate her bringing me here, and how much I appreciate her committing this fact about myself to her memory.
Every once in a while, I comment to Margot what I find interesting or begin an outlandish theory about the solution to the case if I can think of one. For the first half hour, it seems like Margot is genuinely reading the plaques with me; however, I progressively notice the way that her eyes are trained on me rather than in the artifacts, only glancing towards them if I verbally reference them. And even though my comments probably sound random without the context of what I'm reading and any background knowledge I have on the case, Margot still seems to hang on to every word.
"Sorry. This stuff must not be the most attention grabbing for you," I say softly to her. It's one thing to break the silence of the museum with comments about the objects inside it. It's an entirely different thing to break the silence with a more anxiety fueled dialogue.
"If you're interested then I'm interested," Margot responds with a shrug.
"We can go if you want to. I've already seen most of what they have displayed. So if you're really not having fun then-"
"Stop it. Maybe I want to learn about all this shit too,"
"I thought you said this stuff freaked you out," I say after a beat, referring to a statement that my girlfriend made as soon as her eyes had landed on the very first section of the exhibit.
"It does, but I'm interested in you, dumbass. I'm not looking at the crime scene photos or evidence. I'm looking at you look at all this shit and taking in the way your eyebrows scrunch together when you're confused or you bite your lip when you're concentrating. And I'm looking forward to the point where you stop trying to keep all your thoughts to yourself and break down and fill me in on whatever crazy conspiracy you're hatching that you're going to try and sell me as the breakthrough to one of these crimes,"
"You're kinda great sometimes,"
"Only sometimes?" Margot asks, feigning offense.
"Eh,"
"Just tell me about the Zodiac Killer," Margot says with an eye roll, showing she was genuinely listening to me as she doesn't allow herself to look towards the display for any hint as the words tumble out from her lips.
After a few more displays, we reach the end of the exhibit, forcing us to turn around and begin to retrace our steps back to the entrance of the museum.
"You never finished your story earlier," Margot noted after a few moments of silence.
"What story?" I ask as I whip around to look at her, genuinely confused.
"You didn't stop believing in Santa until sophomore year,"
"I was just saying that so that I could get out of doing math,"
"So it's not true?"
"Oh. No. It was,"
"Then tell me about it,"
I look over at Margot and she doesn't make a move to glance away, eyes trained on me in a way that lets me know that I have her full attention and she doesn't plan on changing that any time soon, or at least until I finish telling my story. Letting out a sigh, I slowly shake my head.
"Fine. But you owe me a semi embarrassing childhood story afterwards,"
"You call sophomore year childhood? I'm pretty sure the semi embarrassing part of this story is that it happened well after childhood,"
I softly push Margot away from me as she just laughs, proud of her comment.
"I'm gonna rescind my offer to finish the story," I threaten.
"Fine. Deal. Now tell me. I'm on the edge of my seat,"
I'm not entirely sure if Margot's words were sarcastic or not, but I begin to tell the story anyways, describing the way Alex would go to extremes just to keep me believing in a man who flew in a sleigh hauled by reindeer every night before Christmas, from paying one of his friends to dress up as Santa and come to our house in the dead of night to hiding all his gifts and only leaving himself coal on a year he was particularly terrible to me.
By the end of the story, Margot is left looking at me with a smile on her face.
"What?" I ask her as I tilt my head.
"You're just so fucking stupid," she responds before cracking up.
"Whatever. You owe me an embarrassing story now," I huff as I roll my eyes at her, holding back my gut response to smack her upside the head for her utter lack of respect.
"I don't have any that could even compare," Margot jokes.
I smack her upside the head.
"Fine fine. Mine is a little less pg than yours. I'm not sure if you can handle it given that you so recently stopped believing in Rudolph,"
I move to smack her upside the head again, but she quickly grabs my wrist to stop me.
"Hey. I let you get away with it the first time. Don't push it," Margot threatens as she raises her eyebrows at me.
I just smack her upside the head with my other hand, which she unfortunately catches on it's retreat.
With a sigh, she takes a step closer to me as she wraps my arms behind my back.
"You done?" she asks with a smirk. I nod quickly in affirmation, allowing her to release my hands.
So I smack her upside the head again.
Bad decision on my part. Almost instantly, Margot finds my hands again and pins them behind my back.
"You can't be trusted,"
"You were threatening my honor, my good name,"
"And we can't have that," Margot whispers as her eyes flicker down to my lips.
"No we can't," I murmur back as I lean in slightly.
"Is there a way I can make it up to you?"
"I believe," I lick my lips which forces her eyes to snap down to look at them, "you were going to tell me a story."
I take advantage of her loosened grip on me and quickly pull away, a smirk slipping onto my lips as I continue walking down the museum hall.
"You fucking tease,"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I feign innocence, "but I do know that I was promised a story."
Margot scoffs at me.
I stop in my tracks before turning around to look at her, "What? Did I prove that I could handle it?"
Margot lets out a sigh before shaking her head at me.
"Ok. So it happened the summer before junior year. Harrison, Raider, and I made a deal that whoever could get a date last had to order a sex toy of their choice and 'accidentally' enter one of their parent's names in for the shipping address. They would assume it was theirs and open it and...."
In a clear act of rebellion, my cheeks begin to heat up as Margot tells the story, forcing me to look down at the ground in order to hide it.
"Even though they don't agree, Raider and Harrison clearly cheated because they just started dating each other,"
"In their defense, there wasn't a rule against it. Right?"
"So my girlfriend takes their side too?"
As the words slip out of her mouth, she turns to look at me for the first time since she started telling her story, and I make the mistake of not looking away. Her eyes flit down to my cheeks before a knowing smile graces her lips.
"You're fucking adorable," she tells me which instantly results in a glare being sent her way.
"Shut up and tell your story," I huff. For a second, I think that Margot is going to continue teasing me, but she seems to know when to draw the line and instead sends me a wink before continuing.
"Well, I think it's pretty obvious what happened. My aunt opened the package and we had to have this long awkward conversation about how I shouldn't be ashamed and it's all natural and I could always talk to her about anything...."
As Margot trails off, my cheeks are more red than before, which I wasn't sure was possible. It absolutely pisses me off. My own body is betraying me. It's not like I'm uncomfortable with the topics, or I don't think I am. I shouldn't be. I'm a senior in high school. I'll be eighteen before the end of the year. I'll be in college in a matter of months. I shouldn't be blushing like some grade schooler.
Margot glances over at me, but doesn't point out my flushed face again. She just cracks some kind of joke about how whatever she ordered was shoved under her bed because just the sight of it reminds her of the conversation. I give her a smile in response, thoughts still swimming around my mind about my current situation.
However, once Margot reaches over and grabs my hand, I'm reminded of what I told myself before this date even started. I wasn't going to get stuck in my own head. Looking back over at Margot, I promise myself that I'll come back to these thoughts later. They're just interrupting my time with her now.
So I make an effort to distract myself. I resume my role in guiding Margot through the exhibit while also filling any in between moments with extra conversation, extra thoughts, so that I never stop long enough to get trapped by my own brain.
That is until Margot says one sentence that sticks with me: "It's crazy how many people died and will die never knowing the truth."
She says it as we're exiting the exhibit. Almost as a closing comment for what we just learned about. Except for me, it's a comment that opens the door to guilt that I forgot I had, lying in wait in the pit of my stomach.
So I don't respond to her comment outside of nodding my head once in agreement. And I stay silent as we leave the museum and walk to my car.
"Can we talk about something?" I ask as soon as we both settle into our seats, hating the way that the silence between us was so awkward, despite knowing I was the one who made it this way.
"Of course," Margot says softly, not bothering to start the vehicle as she can likely sense the topic to be a more serious one.
"Um. I lied to you. It wasn't like crazy or anything. Honestly, it was barely even a lie. It wasn't really a white lie though because it didn't inherently benefit you. Though maybe it did in some way. But I've kind of felt awful about it since it happened, like I wasn't doing my due diligence as a girlfriend or some stupid shit. But I figured getting it out in the open would be best for both of us and so there you go,"
"What?"
"I lied to you and I'm so sorry,"
"I got that, but about what?" Margot asks, still remaining completely calm over the situation, despite my own slight freaking out.
"You know when we were on the phone yesterday and I said I had to go because Dustin was there?"
"Yeah?"
"He wasn't actually there yet,"
"That's it?"
"Huh?"
"You just built it up so much...."
"I feel bad!"
"Don't. I mean, you don't need to lie to me about stupid shit like that. You don't need to lie to me at all. Why did you?"
"I.... Didn't want to talk anymore,"
"You could've just said you didn't feel like talking. I wouldn't have been offended,"
"But I did feel like talking!" I take a pause as I debate whether I actually want to unpack what was truly bothering me, what made me not want to continue that phone call.
"You just said you didn't want to talk anymore...." Margot points out, clearly confused. I can't blame her as I am being confusing. Shaking my head, I attempt to get my thoughts in order. I don't want to be difficult or give her a reason to get frustrated with me. She's already confused, and if I keep confusing her then she'll have nothing else to do but get upset.
Or.... I could just drop it for now.
"You're right. Sorry for confusing you and sorry for lying in the first place," I bow my head down as my gaze locks on my hands that are tapping out random rhythms on top of my thighs.
"It's seriously ok, Aspen," Margot assures me as she sets one of her hands on top of mine, stopping it mid rhythm, and pulls it onto the center counsel to remain intertwined with hers.
She begins the drive back to school, and even though the conversation ended out loud, it still rages on in my mind.
It was just such a good date. I didn't want to chance ruining it. I already almost ruined it after Margot told her story.
It was stupid anyways. What was I going to say? I didn't like where the conversation was going so I just ended the phone call like an entitled piece of shit. Maybe that conversation was important to Margot, or maybe she doesn't even remember it at all. I won't know now.
It hasn't necessarily been on repeat in my mind, but I can't seem to be rid of certain parts of it either.
Margot said it would be good to have friends other than each other. Is she getting bored of me than fast?
I try to shake the thoughts from my head and tell myself that Margot is the type of person who would tell me if I was getting to be too annoying or too boring. Voices in the back of my mind try to disprove it, saying that she might just be trying to be nice and is waiting for me to take a hint and leave. Maybe she's starting to sense that I'm not always a great person to be around, and so she's taking me on this date and trying to make things the best they can be in order to redeem the more fun and interesting parts of me, instead of the part that gets too sad and drinks sometimes or snaps and hangs up the phone when she gets too overwhelmed. The part of me that can't communicate my feelings so much so that I wouldn't tell my best friend that I had a crush on her for years without the help of alcohol. The part of me that gets paranoid when Margot says that we should hang out with other people. It's too early in our relationship to worry about these things.... or maybe it's not early enough. Maybe I should have been worrying about this from the beginning. I attempt to not let those voices get too loud though, to not let them triumph over the ones that I know to be more rational, more realistic.
And then, along with the memories of the phone call with Margot comes the conversation I had with Dustin right after. Dustin's pain is something that I can't quite shake, not only because he's my best friend but also because I'm worried that Margot might be dealing with something similar. No. It's not the same thing. Declan is denying Dustin a real relationship. I'm denying Margot a public one. And yet it's still something I'm denying her, all because I'm too afraid to show everyone a more honest version of myself.
Honesty.
All these thoughts seem to circle back to that topic: honesty. I like to think that I'm an honest person, and yet I find myself all too willing to lie, whether it be a direct lie to my girlfriend, an omission of my current relationship, or seemingly misrepresenting myself to others.
I glance over at the girl next to me who has her eyes trained on the road. How can she like me if I'm not honest enough for her to know me?
I shake my head at the question, trying to dismiss it as preposterous. Around Margot, I'm myself. I don't overthink my actions, and I believe that impulse is often one of the truest forms of actions. That's how I am around her. Yes, I've slipped up once or twice, but that doesn't mean that she lacks any grasp on who I am as a person.
Realizing that I've probably been silent for far too long, I just jump on to the first topic that I can think of. Margot had such hopes for this date. I can't ruin it in the very last moments. We can have serous conversations another day. Today, I want to appreciate the time I have with Margot and try not to worry about a problem that has hardly even arose.
"I had an amazing time today," I say softly to the girl as I turn to look at her, not wanting to miss if it brings a smile to her face. It does.
Even though she hasn't asked me to, and maybe never will, I'm going to work on being more honest for her because I really love the way her smile so easily rests on her face.
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Author's Note:
Hey, guys. So.... It's been.... a minute. For anyone that's still here, thank you so much. I really do appreciate it. So leave a vote and/or comment if you feel so inclined, and I will be back with another chapter in.... Honestly, who's to say. It could be a week or it could be another month.... But I will be working on it!! Again, thank you so very much and I am so very sorry if you had to reread any amount of this story to understand this chapter (as I have gotten comments about that....). Stay groovy. :)
⁃Kayden_Mae