The Broken Pieces Left Behind

Chapter 17

He'd said nothing all the way home so neither did I. He just pouted from the drivers seat and I pouted on the passengers side. I was still very angry at him. How dare he come and turn this all around on me. I wasn't the one who was sneaking around in the dark with a girl. Especially one like May.

I mean he could have chosen any girl, and he had his pick of them, but he chose her. I hated the way she looked at me. It was like I was a piece of gum that she scraped off the bottom of her shoe. Something annoying that wasn't worth her time. Her haughty look threatened me to impose physical bodily harm on her.

He walked me to my door – I guess his superior breathing wouldn't allow him to just leave me there – and then he just left. I studied his retreating figure down the hall. His shoulder were taut and his strides were a little angry. Well it was just as well that he started acting like that now. Sooner or later this thing that we had going on between us was going to implode anyway. Better for it to happen now and save me heartbreak later on.

Sara was either out with Ari, who she was forever talking about – I still hadn't met the guy – or she'd gone to bed early. Whatever it was, I was happy she wasn't around.

Ed was in my ear drowning out the chaos of thoughts that ran through my mind as I lay on my bed blankly staring up at the ceiling. I had cursed Jack in every language that I knew how to, but that didn't make me feel any better.

Now that I thought about it, and I had done a lot of that, I acted like my mother would. That comparison made me cringe. I completely blew everything out of proportion and I over-reacted. I turned and pressed my face into my pillow, muffling my scream of frustration.

I had, over the past few weeks vehemently denied that there was anything romantic going on between Jack and I. We were friends. I had repeated it enough times that maybe he'd begun to believe it. He had every right to date whoever he wanted. He wasn't responsible for how I felt, I was.

And while I did not like May, he shouldn't have had to answer to me. I was his friend (even if now the word tasted bitter) not his mother or keeper. He wasn't answerable to me.

Courage barely came the next morning as I forced myself into the elevator and towards his door. All I had to do was swallow my pride and apologize to him. It seems that was all I ever did. We would fight and I would apologize. It was a wonder that he still wanted to be around me at all. Inhaling deeply I raised my head, steeled my nerve and rapped my knuckles on his door.

There was a grunt from the other side just before the door pulled open. He was a little bit of a rumpled mess and I questioned my timing. What if he had someone in there?

"Becca," he said when he saw me, his voice thick with sleep. This role reversal we had here wasn't lost on me. Usually it was him at my door.

"Hi," I smiled timidly. I stood outside rocking back on my heels. "Um, can I come in?"

He nodded and stepped back allowing me to enter. So he didn't have anyone in here. I let out a breath of relief.

"I'm sorry," I started as I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch trying not to think about the last time I was here.

"What?" his face showed confusion.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted yesterday. I had no right to be angry about you being with May. You have every right to go out with whoever you want to. And I--"

"Okay look," he exhaled taking the space next to me "About May and I."

Did I even want to hear this? I wasn't sure. He didn't owe me an explanation. I was the one who overreacted. We were friends and I acted like a jealous girlfriend, which I was not. "Jack its fine. You don't need to explain anything to anyone, least of all me."