"She said what?" Miles says alarmed.
"I might pass out if I say it again so spare me a broken skull and a trip to the hospital, please," I say.
I'm wandering through my apartment, restlessly walking from the kitchen to my bathroom and then back to the living room to sip at my wine. I poured myself half a glass before Marie left, but I ended up pouring the drink to the top after she closed the door shut behind her. I thought about texting her or calling her. I did, I swear. But I thought I should collect my thoughts first and then, if I don't actually perspire myself to death, give her a call.
"Well...are you sure?" Miles is as dumbfounded as I am. "Are you sure that's what she said?"
"She yelled it, man," I say. I'm getting nervous. I know because I'm starting to scratch myself all over. It's like a tingling sensation and I don't know what I'm going to scratch first. "Like, when you're leaving the house and you call out to your parents – love you!"
"I have never done that in my life."
"Oh, you know what I mean!"
I scratch at my skin, then at my hair. I put Miles on speaker so I can tie my hair back into a low ponytail, to stop myself from scratching myself any longer.
"Listen, Cassie," he starts. I hate it when he calls me that. It's one of those nicknames people use when they're about to tell you something you don't want to hear, something that will undoubtedly make you bitter and have you re-evaluate your life choices. But you know what, you get bitter because you know the other person is right. But you're too stubborn with your own opinion and belief, so you refuse to listen to their advice even though subconsciously you know they're right and you're wrong.
"I'm listening." My tone comes off meaner than I intended.
"I feel like you know what I'm gonna say."
"I feel that too, but I want you to say it so I have a good enough reason to get drunk tonight."
There's a low sound on Miles' end and I recognize it as him sighing. "You need to call it off."
"Call what off?" I ask defensively. I know exactly what he's implying and I'm not sure why I asked him to clarify.
"This," he says, his voice rising in pitch. "You. And Marie. You gotta end it."
It's like my heart shatters at his words. There's a tightness in my stomach which spreads to my chest. I stay silent at my end until the sensation becomes so unbearable that I have to speak only to focus on something else.
"I can't just..." I start but consider otherwise. My suddenly fatigued body finds itself on my dining room chair, the tall glass of wine tempting me with its rich color. I take a larger sip and watch the liquid swirl in the glass. It makes me feel insane so I stop.
"What?" Miles asks after maybe five hours of me being silent.
"I don't know."
"Cass—" Miles starts, his voice hardening. Miles is two years older than me and even though I sometimes see him as a potential fuck buddy, in times like this I feel as though he's my brother yelling at me for being in the bathroom for too long. It's weird. This whole situation is weird.
"I just," I start, stopping again because words evaporate from my brain with every passing second. "I don't know. I don't know."
"Did you go soft on 'er?" Miles asks. He's mocking me. I know it. My silence is the answer to his question.
"She's different." I blink.
"That's what you said about Jason."
Jason is my ex—something. We weren't technically dating. It was more of what I have with Marie right now. We met through a mutual friend, got drunk one night at a bonfire at the beach, and four hours later we're fucking in his apartment bedroom. I was too intoxicated to feel anything except horny, and the morning after we made a deal to keep it up, with no strings attached naturally. The friends with benefits act continued on for a few months until I started to catch feelings. It's always the soft one in the relationship that goes even softer. Goddammit. I remember the exact moment when I realized I was in love with him. We were at a bar with some friends. Someone told a story and ended it with a joke, the entire table laughing their ass off. As I laughed I looked at Jason and thought, fuck, I love him. His smile, his voice, his hands, his barely visible acne scars on his cheeks, his sense of humor, his slightly crooked teeth he hated so much but I thought gave him so much character. Everything.
He freaked the fuck out when I told him how I felt. That's an overstatement, but I could see it in his eyes how surprised he was. He was calm on the outside but I bet his heart was hammering as fast as mine was when I told him. It was like the world slowed down at that moment. We'd just stared at each other from across the table, our coffee's forgotten and starting to cool in the chilly air of the room. He'd never had good heating.
"I'm sorry, Cass."
He just repeated the damn sentence over and over with a slight variation every time. I didn't really listen to him after the first time he apologized. My ears were buzzing rapidly as if my heart leaped into my head and started beating inside my skull and ears. I remember trying to look anywhere else but his face as I knew I'd start to cry immediately if I did. The following events had passed in a blur. I left and went back home, still in shock and disappointment of everything happening and Jason never texted me again. Never called, never checked up to see how I was. We even stopped hanging out as a group because it was too awkward. The moral of the story – don't fall in love with your fuck buddy. It's not fun.
"Cass?" Miles' voice snaps me out of my train of thought. I hadn't realized I was crying until I felt the cool tear on my cheek. My eyesight is blurry like I'm holding my eyes open underwater. It makes me want to be underwater. No one can tell you anything when you're underwater. No one can touch you either. It's just you and the indescribable sound of water moving. No emotions, no problems. No people and no past, present, or future. It feels so peaceful and serene that it makes me want to drown sometimes, honestly.
"Cass?"
"Hmm?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Stop lying."
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You're crying, too."
"No, I'm not."
"Stop lying."
"No."
How fucking childish. Lying can get you out of anything, I realized. I feel bad for doing it, though. Especially to Miles. He never liked Jason. He told me he has no style and that his jokes weren't funny. He also told me he got drunk one night and said something homophobic as a joke which earned him a punch in the stomach. Miles is hot-headed and protects the ones closest to him. I feel sad because I didn't listen to him from the get-go. They stopped hanging out after that, but I think Jason also never liked Miles. I feel like an asshole now, an emptiness sitting down in my stomach.
"I gotta go." I didn't want to be on my phone anymore. I just wanted to drown myself. Not in a pool, but in wine. Wine is always there. It would never hurt your feelings and never not talk to you again.
"Don't drink."
"I want to. Don't tell me what to do."
"I know. But don't. You can't think straight when you drink."
He's right. I got drunk and made a mess with Jason. I got drunk and made a mess with Marie. If I get drunk again I might make an even bigger mess with Marie. I can't make a bigger mess with Jason because I blocked his number. It's easier that way.
"Thanks for being here." I sniffle. I can feel my body starting to shake as I want to sob. I hold it in until I end the call. "Thank you."
"Cass..." Miles' voice is soft. He hates it when I cry. I think it's because he cares too much. He cares too much about everything. It's funny because I seem to not care about anything when I feel like it. I just want to drown. In a pool this time.
