Walking aimlessly, I headed away from college. Our apartment lay in the opposite direction, but I was had no intention of going there. I couldn't be sure whether or not he would still at home.
According to his instructions, I should have stayed on campus to pick up his assignments, but sitting in those stifling classrooms with only my thoughts for company wouldn't work. Fleeing from my problems was a stupid fucking idea as well, but it was the only solution I could think of.
I ended up on the main street. It was bustling with people going about their lives as if nothing had happened. Like the world wasn't completely different. They didn't have a clue. Life changed. Everything changed. One small detail, and years of my life no longer made sense. I thought I knew Ayden, but clearly, I didn't.
I walked on for another few minutes before my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Jessica
I didn't want to talk to her, afraid that I would say something stupid. I closed the call and hoped she would take the hint. She called a second time, and a third. After the fourth time I considered shutting it off.
The phone was silent for a while, but when it rang again I answered—pissed that she wouldn't leave me alone.
"I need some space, Jessica."
"Whoa, what's up?" Ayden. Did this shit never end?
"Sorry, man," I apologized.
"It's okay, but why are you so mad at Jessica?"
"I'm not."
"Clearly..."
I decided to side-step the issue. "When are you off to Florida?"
"I'm at the airport."
"So why are you calling?"
Ayden took a few seconds to answer, and I grew nervous—no longer sure if I wanted to know.
"You didn't reply to my message," he said, but I could tell that it wasn't what he wanted to say. At any other time, I would have said, out with it, Ay, but this time I decided against it. I would let him keep his thoughts to himself.
"I'll pick up your stuff, don't worry."
"Cool, see you next week."
"Yeah, have fun." The words tasted vile in my mouth. Have fun, yeah right. The mental image of him and the young guy flashed before me again, but I forced it away.
"Yeah... bye, Cal." His voice sounded odd. For a second, I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to know. I didn't want him to talk about his job. It was awkward enough as it was.
* * * *
The rest of the day went by in a blur. I spent my time playing stupid games on my phone on different park benches. I didn't want to meet anyone, and for the longest time, I refused to go home. When my stomach started to protest, I finally resigned and made my way back to the apartment. Ayden wouldn't be there, anyway.
I should have called Jessica, but I felt awkward about meeting her when I wasn't sure of what the hell was going on with me.
It was late, the street lights were flickering alight, and the crowd shifted from mothers with their strollers to people on their way to restaurants and bars. It made me even hungrier, and started an ache for some alcohol to drown the thoughts that were still battering my exhausted mind.
I stopped in the doorway of the apartment, staring inside. It looked completely different. Ayden had cleaned the entire place. No trash, no strewn clothes, no dust in the corners. Even the tables were wiped, cleared of all circular marks from beer bottles that usually covered every available surface.
The floor was so clean that I toed off my shoes before I stepped inside. I wondered briefly when he had the time to do all this. It must have taken hours.
A small note rested on the kitchen table, right there for me to see. Written in Ayden's neat handwriting, it lay there like a little monster biding its time. Again, I wondered if I wanted to read it. However, I knew that I would at some point, so there was no use stalling the inevitable.
Got some groceries, see you next week. Ay
It was normal, but also not. I wasn't even sure if Ayden knew where to get groceries. When it came to food, he was as ignorant as they came.
I opened the cupboards just to see if he was serious. They weren't completely filled, but he had bought the stuff I usually did—raw ingredients rather than ready-made dishes. Today I wished he would have at least bought something ready-made since I didn't feel like cooking.
I opened the freezer and smiled. It was the first smile that day, I realized. I took out a frozen pizza, turned on the oven, and sat down to wait in the small living room. Turning on the stereo with the remote control, I waited for something to relax to. However, as the first notes struck, I snapped my eyes open.
Wrecking Ball. What the? None of us listened to Miley Cyrus, in fact, both of us hated her.
Then I started to listen to the lyrics.
I couldn't shut it off. I listened, and every word nailed itself onto the walls of my heart. I didn't know what to think. Ayden must have wanted me to hear this, but at the same time...the implications of this were just too much. Had I ruined him? No, Ayden wouldn't do this. He must have listened to it and then forgot to remove the record.
Time seemed suspended. Everything was wrong, and I couldn't get it right. It felt like I didn't know Ayden anymore. After all those revelations, I was left with someone I couldn't read. This Ayden wasn't the one I grew up with.
Sighing, I checked the time. It wasn't fair on Jessica to ignore her, especially since I had told myself to try harder. It wasn't too late to surprise her with a visit.
* * * *
I was still struggling to get my thoughts together when I entered Jessica's apartment without so much as a knock. She looked up from her place on the sofa, startled and definitely annoyed to see me. It wasn't something I usually did, but I had already stepped inside when I realized what I forgot to do. That little trickle of regret fled as I stopped to stare at the scene in front of me. I stood dumbfounded for a second before regaining the ability to use my vocal chords.
"Who are you?"
A blond guy that I had never seen before scrambled up from the tattered sofa, backing away from my girlfriend while all color drained from his face.
"What are you doing here, Callum?" Jessica asked. I wasn't sure if she sounded hostile or just plain confused.
"I thought I would surprise you, but obviously, I came at a bad time."
Jessica's eyes narrowed, and I felt like laughing. If anyone should be angry, it should be me, but I was strangely calm despite the awkwardness. It was obvious that this wasn't something I was supposed to see—even if the scene looked innocent enough. I should be fuming, but the only emotion I could make sense of was slight curiosity. I wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps I was curious about my own lack of interest. I knew that I should rage, if not for myself, then at least to show Jessica that I cared enough to "stake my claim," but it wasn't happening.
When I didn't react the way they assumed I would, they both lost their bearing. Jessica simply stared at me, her eyes blinking every few seconds. I was pretty sure she wanted to say something, but my lack of reaction probably made it difficult. My gaze traveled over to the guy, and he didn't fare much better. The color still hadn't returned to his face.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Jessica asked.
"I should, shouldn't I?"
"Probably," the guy suggested.
The silence stretched, floating in the air uncomfortably. This day had been too much for me, far too much, and my brain wasn't working properly anymore. I wanted to just turn around and leave, ignoring the big elephant in the room.
"I think I better leave," they guy finally said, sending Jessica a miserable look.
"No, Tony, please stay?" she pleaded.
That did it for me. The worst thing was that it wasn't even a difficult decision. I wasn't sure if it was because of what happened earlier, or if it was because I didn't love her like I should, but it felt liberating more than anything else.
"You should stay," I said, trying to sound upset even if I wasn't. "I have to think about this, and perhaps you should too." I caught the glint of a tear falling down her cheek, making me feel bad about leaving her even if she wanted him to stay.
"I really don't know what to say..." Her shoulders slumped in indignation.
"Me neither," I replied.
"I want to talk about it," she continued.
"Let's talk another day. I'm not ready for this."
"I'm sorry, Callum."
I didn't reply to that. Instead, I opened the door, stepped into the corridor and closed it behind me with a soft click. I stood there for a while, staring at the door. I knew we were over, but I would never have imagined it to be like this. I realized, then and there, that I had thought about how it would be to break up with her. I had worried that I would hurt her, but in the end, it was nothing. We were nothing. No substance, nothing real. It was an idea, not a relationship.