Disequilibrium

Part 5: Denouement - Scene 10

The third and final person to visit is Casper.

I'm not going to lie; I've always dreamt of the moment. Hoped for it, even. But considering that dead stare he gave back in that courtroom, I deemed the idea the least plausible thing to happen. And yet there he is, sitting patiently at the table for me.

I stop dead in my tracks for a moment, wishing I'm not as taken aback by his beauty than I actually am. It should've been gone by now, this feeling, but I still feel my heart trying to claw its way out of my mouth the more I stare at him. He's got his eyes trapped on the phone in his hands, his thumbs going at rapid speed over the keyboard. His hair is still hanging over his ears like the last I saw him, but now he's shaved and I can finally see his face—the real one. I look at the way his cheeks are a little sunken in now, more than before, and his jaw has grown sharper with age. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to touch him, just once. But I can't. I know I can't, so I walk towards the table and pretend it doesn't bother me.

Casper doesn't look up from his phone until I pull back the chair, legs scrapping loudly against the tiled floors. There's nobody else in the visiting room but us, considering it's so early in the morning. And it baffles me that he's even here. He's never been a morning bird, the last I remember.

Casper stares with this look that damn near kills me, I swear. His brown eyes are careful and studying, flicking which way occasionally as he takes a good look at me. His lips are pulled apart slightly, looking like he's ready to say something, but not a word comes out. And I can tell he's just as shocked as I am to see me this close when we haven't been for all these months, within touching distance but not quite there yet.

He puts his phone carefully in his pocket before resting his palm on the table, his fingers dangerously close to my own. But he doesn't move any further. Instead, he stares at the distance for a while, swallows, then drops his hands on his lap.

After a while, he says, "Blonde?"

I don't know what it is, but suddenly my face grows hotter than ever, and I'm sure he can see it. I run a sheepish hand through the strands, looking down at the table instead of his face. "Yeah."

Not a sound comes from him for a whole minute, and I look up to check if he's even there at all. He is, staring at me silently.

Then, finally, he shifts. "It looks good on you."

That destroys me. My hands start shaking, soaked with sweat already, and I have to move them down to my lap just to get them to quit. My throat grows parched like I haven't had water in years, but no amount of swallowing can get it back to normal. I end up hating him for it, but the more I stare, the more I feel like I'm in freshman year all over again.

So I cough, hoping for a clear voice before I say, "You're eerily calm right now. I expected you to be crying or yelling at me or something but..." I let out a breath. "You're calm, just like last time."

He shrugs. "Is that a crime?"

"In this case it is."

He smiles at that. He actually smiles. "I'll tell you a secret," he says. "That's how I got out, you know; by doing the things you least expected. That's one thing I noticed about you. Once someone's not easy to read, you kind of go a little crazy."

I look down at the table. Not that I'm mad or anything, but truth be told, it kind of turns me on. And it sucks, it really does, cause we should be hating each other. We shouldn't even be here, yet here we are.

"Do your parents know you're here?" I ask, though I'm not sure why.

I look up right when Casper shakes his head. "They'd kill me if they knew. We're moving, you know. Far away from Seabrook."