"I would never lie to you,
But it's hard when the truth is such a shame.
I never wanted to say I'm sorry,
But sorry is all I can say.
Is it really all that bad when I dream?
Yeah, I dream about you."
- Cisco
***
Ira's POV
As I stare out the car window watching trees and open fields roll by, my wet hair drips cold water down my neck. I shrug my hoodie higher up on my shoulders in response and close the A/C vent that's been pointed on me.
I glance at Liam out of the corner of my eye to see his gaze fixed firmly on the road in front of him. Unconsciously, I adjust the shirt I'm wearing. It's a little too big for me, and I keep getting the urge to pull it up.
I know he said it wouldn't be weird, but I feel so strange wearing his ex-girlfriend's clothing. It's like I went digging through the graveyard of their dead relationship.
I mean, I suppose if these things were special to her, she wouldn't have left them behind, but what if they're special to him? What if this is the shirt she wore on their first date? Or the jeans she wore the first time they said I love you?
When I emerged from the bathroom with these items on, he didn't say anything and his face remained impassive, but he's always like that. It's not exactly an indication of how he's feeling.
On another level, it actually feels strange knowing that he had such a serious girlfriend at all. To be honest, I'm sort of jealous.
Not of the girl, of course. I'm just jealous that he somehow achieved normal, that he had someone in his life - someone real.
I tried, but I never really could get there myself. I mean, how could I? He was always there, reminding me that I wasn't like everyone else - every time I closed my eyes.
I've never been great at controlling my thoughts. I've never been particularly skilled at forcing things out of my head, at holding onto reality, at not letting my hopes, and more often my fears, get the best of me.
No matter how much I told myself that he wasn't real, there was always a part of me that wished he was - a part of me that wished that the one person in my world who understood me was actually in the world.
Of course, I knew that was ridiculous, but it never stopped being hard.
I tried to date people, I did. I went out, had a few dates, even had a few almosts a couple years back. But none of them were the kind of person I could trust with who I was, and there's only so close you can get with someone when you can't share all of yourself with them.
We'd be dating for a while, things would be good, and then a few bad dreams and we'd just hit this wall. They'd ask me what was wrong, and I couldn't tell them. Things would always end soon after.
An alternative song starts softly drifting in through the car speakers as we enter an area with radio reception. Liam reaches out and lightly turns the knob on the stereo, raising the volume just enough to where I can make out the words.
I've lost a few good friends lately,
And I think it's my fault not theirs.
I was never a fake or phony,
I just needed a change I guess.
There's a distinct contrast between the happy lilt of the acoustic guitar being strummed and the lonely words. I nod my head along to the music, and Liam notices my movement.
"Do you know this song?" he asks, breaking the silence that had been looming over us ever since we left the house.
"No, but I like it," I answer. "Who's it by?"
"I'm not sure," he replies. "I heard it in a diner once at like three in the morning."
I raise an eyebrow. "What were you doing in a diner at 3 in the morning?"
"Selling drugs," he replies. I look at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond. "That was a joke," he says.
"Oh," I reply.
"Is that really what you think of me?" he asks after a few moments of silence.
"What?"
"That I'm some kind of hardened criminal, drug dealer, gang member?"
"No, of course not," I reply. "Well, actually, I guess I don't know..."
"What do you mean?" he asks. He looks at me, and I focus my attention out the passenger side window and swallow the lump in my throat before speaking.
"It's just.. I don't really know what I'm supposed to think of you. We don't even know each other. I mean, I'm sure I'm not exactly how you pictured me."
"No, definitely not," he replies, and I have to stifle my anger at the smug look on his face.
I roll my eyes and release a sigh. "I just meant that we're both going through this. We're both disappointed; we're both confused, and we're both scared, right?"
"You're not wrong."
"I just think that we should cut each other some slack, alright? We're never gonna get through this if we're at each other's throats all the time."
He doesn't answer, so I reach up and turn the volume knob up high enough to drown out the awkward silence.
I guess you're doing alright
I don't hear from you like I used to do
I never really thought I'd get through it
I'm still here, without you
Suddenly, he reaches out and turns the music back down. I'm about to ask why when he speaks. "I was in a diner at 3 am because my girlfriend broke up with me, and she asked me to give her some time to get her stuff out of the house."
"Oh..." I say. "You didn't have to -"
"No, it's okay," he says before continuing. "You're wearing her clothes; you might as well know, right?"
I look down at my folded hands. "What happened?"
"She uh.." His hands grip the steering wheel tightly. As he does so, the music on the radio turns to garbled static for a moment before becoming clear again. "I told her about the dreams, and she couldn't handle it," he finishes.
I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. "You actually told her?"
He scrunches his own eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean? You've had boyfriends before, haven't you?"
"Not like that," I reply, sinking a little lower in my seat and wrapping my arms around myself. "I can't even imagine being that close to someone," I say. It's a realization that I hadn't had until this very moment. I don't even know what it feels like to want to share something that personal with someone. I can't even fathom what it must feel like to be that close with someone and have them walk away. "I'm sorry; I know things ending like that couldn't have been easy on you."
"Yeah, well. It was a long time ago anyway. Besides, look at us, on the run from God knows who, chasing down answers about our would-be reincarnations. Maybe she was right to get out when she did."
I can see on his face that he doesn't mean it. No matter what he felt when she left or how much time has passed, she still means a lot to him. It's obvious just in the fact that he kept her things: he really loved her.
I look at him until I know he feels my gaze. Finally he turns to face me, and I look directly into his eyes. Typically when I make eye contact with someone, it's passive, simply a response, but this time I look hard, purposefully. "She wasn't," I say.
It's another second before he finally rips his gaze away from mine to focus his attention back to the road. I can hear the music drifting in again, and I can't tell if it stopped while our eyes met or if I just couldn't notice it.
"Yeah, well, I guess we'll see," he says, an easy smile settling on his face. "Listen, I know you didn't get much sleep last night and we've been driving for a while. You can sleep if you want."
He's right, my body feels a bit sluggish. I know I'm exhausted, but for the first time in a long time, I don't want to sleep. "No, that's okay," I reply.
"Are you sure? It's not like you're gonna miss me, I'll probably be there."
I let out a short laugh. "No, it's not that, it's just.." I tuck my hair behind my ear. "I already know dream you pretty well. I'd rather stay up and get to know the real you, if that's okay?"
Liam turns his head and looks at me, his lips just barely parted as though he's not sure just how to react.
"Um, yeah, he replies. "Sure that's fine," he finishes with a smile.