chapter two ✔️

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kate porter- december 31, 2019 -

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kate porter
- december 31, 2019 -

            SITTING IN THE PASSENGER SEAT, I sank lower in the seat. The sun crept slowly behind the landscape in front of us. I almost wanted to gag. In normal circumstances something like this was probably considered stunning. But right now, it was all too much. Choking me with its unreliable possibilities and false promise.

            How was I bursting at the seams like this? How could I just sit here with all these feelings bouncing around in my ribcage? Was I capable of drowning on dry land? I was about to choke on the words I wasn't saying out loud.

            He was in the middle of talking about her. That girl who was causing him so much pain and misery. I knew what I wanted to do would have repercussions. I was okay with those; with all the repercussions. I sat in that same chair and listened to him rant about her so many times before. How did I do it so many times before?

            If I spoke now there would be no going back for either of us. It would be out in the open and we'd have to deal with it. We'd have to discuss it when we'd both known for years now.

            Still, the words came tumbling from my lips before I could even stop to think about them first, "I can't do this anymore. I'm so exhausted.

            Looking at me, Caleb's mouth stayed open for a moment before he closed it again. Staring at me, he looked far too much like a blowfish for his own good. He went to speak again, but turned abruptly and stared out the windshield instead.

            That was just like him. Any type of anger or disappointment in your voice and he'd clam right up. He'd much rather sit in uncomfortable silence then have to be in a confrontation with anyone. Even if he was in the right. That was why his girlfriend walked all over him the way she did.

            "I'm sorry," his voice barely reached above a whisper, "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do and I thought... Well, I thought you might."

            "That's not what I meant. I can't—" I covered my face with my hands. My face burned. How was I supposed to even look at him right now?

            "I can't do this with you anymore."

            I couldn't tell if he was looking out the window still or if he turned his attention to me instead, but one thing I did know for sure was that I didn't have the courage to find out, "It's okay. I don't mind. You don't have to do anything, really."

            Throwing down my hands, I tried my hardest not to explode or, god forbid, start crying, "I know! I'm not helping you with her at all and I should me. I should be helping you with her. A good friend, they would be helping you and I can't! I can't because—"

            I heard the squeak in the leather seat before I saw him move in the corner of my eye. His black hair fell over the top of his glasses and his eyes looked lost. I hated when his eyes looked that way. It made me want to grab him. To hold him. Tell him everything would be fine. That everything would be okay. We would figure it all out.

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