Sometimes life is cruel, and in your most confused and flustered moments, it throws you another curveball just to watch it smack you in the face. I wasn't ready for another curveball— my lips still had the phantom sensation of Finn's left on them, and my hands were still shaking from the argument. So when I stormed down the nearest stairwell and nearly plowed Preston to the ground when I turned into the hall, I was too overwhelmed to even manage a petty, "Watch where you're going," which popped into my head about seven seconds too late.
"Whoa!" He backed up, holding up his hands, a blue gym bag hanging from his left one. "Jesus, you okay?"
I wasn't sure if he was asking because we nearly knocked each other out, or because I'd been thinking about what just happened with Finn and probably had some serial killer type expression on my face. Either way, I was irritated enough that the nice question somehow managed to rub me the wrong way.
"I'd be better if you weren't here." Admittedly some of my weaker material, but I could tell from the way his expression fell into annoyance that it'd done its job.
"Well sorry, I was just leaving— had to stay late and clean out my wrestling locker, since believe it or not, your protest didn't change anything."
"On the contrary, it somehow made Finn's win even more likely— and I didn't think your chances of succeeding could manage to get any lower." The jab was much better than the one before it, but the words were hollow— I couldn't seem to find any of the usual joy in roasting Preston when my own life had just turned into a mess. "How are things going with that girl of yours, anyway?"
"Fine," he snapped, both the defensive tone of voice and scowl on his face making it pretty clear that wasn't the case.
I managed a fabricated laugh, raising my eyebrows. "Doesn't seem like it."
He didn't shoot back like I expected. Instead, he just sighed and looked away, shoulders slumping. It obviously wasn't an I'm-not-wasting-my-time-with-this-conversation-anymore gesture, but more of a yeah-I-screwed-up one.
"Finn and I aren't exactly fine at the moment, either," I admitted, shrugging when he looked at me in surprise. I wasn't exactly sure why I was confiding in my nemesis, either— misery loves company, I guess. "I think we're just too different."
"You seemed to be getting along earlier. Never expected to see you at the front of an angry mob."
I laughed, resting against the door frame. "It was pretty crazy. I think Fulton nearly gave himself a stroke from yelling so much."
Preston gave a small smile, a gesture I hadn't seen from him since we'd broken up. The only smiles we gave each other these days were filled with spite and a large amount of gloating.
"Sorry about wrestling, by the way," I offered, surprised to find myself wishing that the protest had accomplished something. "That sucks."
"Yeah." He nodded, raising a shoulder in resigned acceptance.
A recurring question from the past week popped into my brain again as I looked at Preston. I took a breath, figuring I may as well just ask— there wasn't exactly anything to lose. "Can I ask you something?"
He nodded, seeming somehow unfazed by this moment absent of bickering or snide comments. I felt myself flush, suddenly embarrassed about all the childish things I'd done, even the remarks from just a minute ago— it all seemed so pointless. Just the result of a grudge I'd held over something that according to Preston, wasn't even true.
"I've been wondering since we talked last," I confessed, watching as his head tilted to the side, "If you didn't break up with me because... because of what I thought... why did you?"
He leaned against the wall to his right, looking down at his dirty sneakers. "I guess it felt like we were dating for the wrong reasons. I think you asked me out because I was popular, and... I think I said yes because you were popular. We were supposed to date each other, you know?"
I nodded when he glanced up, trying to let him know there was no reason to be nervous— for once, I wasn't going to snap at him. And he was right. When I asked him out, maybe somewhere deep down I did think I'd develop feelings for him. But that wasn't the reason I wanted us to be a couple, and we both knew it. Like he said, I did it because it felt like I was supposed to.
"And I liked dating you, don't get me wrong— You're kind of extreme, but you can be really cool, too. I guess... it just felt more like a friendship to me. I don't think I knew what love felt like, but I wanted to find it. So that's why," he finished, pressing his lips together and shifting his weight to his other foot.
I wasn't sure what to feel— stupidity, guilt, and shame were probably at the top of the list. I'd been so vengeful towards Preston because I assumed he was the same as my other exes, when in reality, the reason he broke up with me was kind of sweet. Scratch that— not kind of sweet, it was really sweet.
That gave me another feeling: relief.
Preston wasn't the guy I'd been looking for, but he was the type of guy I'd been looking for. They did exist.
"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch," I said, thankful to see him grin. "I thought... well, you know what I thought. I shouldn't have assumed."
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I just wish you would've asked sooner— could've saved us both a lot of insults."
I smiled, but flinched when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, reminding me that my dad was there to pick me up. "I have to go, my dad's waiting."
He nodded, shrugging the nylon bag onto his shoulder. "Okay."
I hesitated for a second before sticking out my hand. "Friends?"
He took it, giving it a shake of agreement as we shared a smile. "Friends."
□▪□▪□
I sighed as I hopped into the passenger's seat of my dad's minivan, feeling too mixed up to offer anything other than a tired hello. I felt so much lighter after talking to Preston, but during the time it took to walk to the parking lot, the weight of what happened with Finn had already returned to counter the good feeling.
My dad glanced over, pulling away from Milton's front curb and out to the main road. "How'd it go?"
"It was fine," I said, keeping my focus out the window. It wasn't an honest answer, but I had a hard time feeling guilty from the lie when my brain was still stuck arguing between "Oh my God, I kissed Finn. And I liked it. And I think I like Finn," and "Finn Harrell is the most frustrating person in the world, and it's a miracle I haven't strangled him!"
He nodded, keeping one hand on the steering wheel as he reached over for the plastic coffee cup sitting in the cupholder. He took a sip and placed it back, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger. "Your Principal told me about the protest."
"Yeah. Sorry," I apologized, not sure what to say— I wasn't exactly used to getting in trouble. "It wasn't the smartest idea, but it was for my friend's campaign." The word friend seemed more inaccurate now than ever. "I guess it got a little out of hand."
"I know things are different this year," he said, deep voice level as he continued to drive. I was thankful he didn't seem mad, but wasn't sure I liked where this conversation was going. "With your mom gone, I've had to double down at work— I haven't been around as much."
"Dad..." Of course he would blame himself for my stupid rebellion. "I'm not acting out because I'm sad about Mom, if that's what you're worried about. I'm acting out because I'm a teenager."
He cracked a smile and glanced over, but it faded as he shrugged a shoulder, pulling into our neighborhood. Sun filtered through what remained of the colorful leaves, casting jagged shadows across the car's black interior. "You've handled all of this so well, Chloe. And lately I feel like I haven't even been helping you get through it."
Handling it well? I guess some days I would've agreed, but not then. It didn't feel like I was handling it at all when I couldn't even carry our conversation without my throat tightening up. "Just because we can't always spend time together doesn't mean you're not helping me. You have work and I have school— our lives are still going, you know? Even if it doesn't feel right without her. But you're always helping me, even when you're not there."
He sighed at my words, nodding slowly. The silence that passed over us made me wonder if I said something wrong, but I didn't want to break it. He pulled into our driveway, which no longer contained the small silver car with the pink, leopard steering wheel cover that we always teased her for.
He stopped the van, turning to me with a soft smile. "I'm always there." He reached over, large hand ruffling the back of my hair, the way he'd always done. "So's she."
I hope you enjoyed! bit of a soft chapter :)