“Let’s go back to the start,” Theo instructs me as he pulls himself to his feet.
“Basically,” I start. “I started dating this guy because… Actually, I’m not sure why but it may have something to do with him being the popular guy who noticed me. The rest is circumstantial. Just think of a teen movie plot and you get the picture.
“Anyway, we hung out, got to know each other and just fell into a routine,” I remember back to when Adam and I first got together. Thinking back, I’m not even sure when it was we became ‘official’ or if we were ‘official’ in the first place. “It went on like that for a couple of months, and then the rumors started. I heard if from everyone. He was cheating on me with some vapid blonde that was the complete opposite of me, but complemented him better. I confronted him, he admitted it all and before I had the chance to end it with him, he told me we were over.”
I pause, trying to figure out where to go from here. “I reacted in the way most girls do when they go through a break up. I stayed at home, ate ice-cream out of the tub and listened to a lot of Jagged Little Pill by Alanis Morissette, but I do that anyway. I cried for months until my best friend literally slapped me out of it, and then I came to this party. I saw him here. I ran into a closet. I met a stranger who, so far hasn’t run away from me, and now I’m spilling my guts out to him.”
That kind of sums it all up.
I wait for Theo to make an escape.
“I can’t run away from you,” he clears his throat. “For one thing, this closet is poorly designed and has no handle on the inside. Secondly, you are by far the most interesting person I have met. Period.”
Obviously he hasn’t met that many people. If I’m the best find, I would suggest he get out more. Compared to all the other girls in our class, I am the least intriguing person there is. Once he casts his net farther afield, he’ll see that I am actually the least interesting person alive.
“Enough about me,” I swat the air with my hand as a sign to move on. Pointless, when I’m the only one who knows what I’ve just done. “Your biggest fear?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?” He nervously asks.
“I promise.” I think. It depends on what he says.
“I’m scared of clowns,” he mumbles incoherently and I only catch the start of the word ‘clowns’.
He expels a breath of air, waiting for my reaction.
I bite my lips between my teeth to stop me from laughing, but I can feel my shoulders bobbing up and down, tears springing to my eyes and stinging the corners.
“Fine, you can laugh,” he finally permits me. I let out a belly deep laugh and wipe the corners of my eyes with the back of my hand with a grin. “You can wipe that smirk of your face. It’s a serious affliction, don’t you know?”