Chapter 17 #2
He reached for my arm slowly, something he’d started doing recently whenever he was going to touch me. “I think they’re over here. They might have different colors and styles we can look through.”
Did that mean more dressing rooms? I hated those things. They were cramped, with a huge mirror staring right at me, with lights far too bright for human eyesight. I followed him either way, wincing a little bit every time the shopping cart’s wheels squeaked.
That was something I hadn’t missed about the outside world.
Jude always did the shopping or had it delivered to the house.
Despite not being a very populated store, it was still overwhelming with the shitty, loud music blasting through the overhead speakers.
I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but it seemed Crescent was determined.
We stopped in front of the assortment, and Crescent had been right. There were five or six different colors to choose from, ranging from super bright to black and gray. He didn’t say anything, letting me explore at my own pace.
I swept my hands through each one, rubbing the material between my fingertips. They were all so soft and delicate-feeling. I was drawn to the darker colors, picking out a black and dark gray one.
Holding them out to Crescent, I peeked at the size tag. “What do you think?”
“I think.” He grabbed the black one by the hanger. “If you want these, we should get them. You’d look great in them.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, dude. Do you want to try them on real quick? You may need a smaller size with these for them to fit properly.”
And go back into those dreaded dressing rooms again? “No. I… I think I’m done for now. I can put these back if you’d like.”
A quiet sigh and an eye roll. “We’re getting them. If they’re flowy, oh well. It’ll add to the look.” I let him take the other one and add it to the cart, just thankful we’d be leaving now.
After he paid, I helped Crescent carry the bags as we headed further down the strip to get some food.
I hadn’t even realized it, but I was quite hungry.
My stomach was growling, and instead of ignoring it, we were sitting down to eat.
Crescent had ordered both of us a portion of chicken fried rice with some egg rolls and water.
A whole meal for me, and the same for him.
No inequality. No smaller versus larger plate.
The round metal table we sat at was painted a light blue.
Some of it was chipping, falling through the holes, and leaving it looking splotchy.
It sort of reminded me of when we were in school.
Outside the cafeteria, there’d been a whole outside area where students could eat if they wanted some sun.
Instead of being painted blue, though, they were red.
I remembered how the light would gleam off them, distorting the color even further where it’d faded.
Bright, vibrant red mixed with sad, flaking pieces of something closer to pink.
From the outside, you could tell what it was supposed to be, but it was so distorted and changed.
The paint was trying to be something it wasn’t anymore.
Like me.
Crescent pulled the styrofoam lid away from my portion before sliding it toward me, along with two egg rolls. “Damn, they gave us a lot, huh?”
It was a lot, but my body didn’t seem to care. I tore open the plastic holding my fork and dived in immediately, no longer paying attention to any of our surroundings. There was so much rice, I could feel myself getting fuller and fuller with each bite.
The egg rolls were fucking fantastic, too.
Warm and crisp, with cabbage and all sorts of seasonings mixed in.
I took big sips of water every time my throat started to feel too dry, making it harder to keep eating with how full I was.
My stomach ached uncomfortably, but I fought through it.
I couldn’t stop. It was like some form of tunnel vision, blocking everything else out, and I was worried.
Worried this would be my last meal. Worried I wouldn’t survive until the next.
My eyes crinkled with my nose as a wave of pain and nausea built in my stomach.
“Sunshine, you’re okay. You can stop. We can take this home for leftovers later.” Crescent had his hand close to my food now.
I looked at it before looking at the rice. Over and over, I analyzed both of them to see if I could make any sense of it. Was he going to take it away? I almost dropped to my knees to repent for something I hadn’t done—an error I’d made that didn’t exist.
We stared at each other for a moment as I chewed what was in my mouth. I didn’t want to swallow. I was scared that if I did, it’d only come back up. “Can I take your plate?” he asked, moving his hand just an inch more.
Rice, Crescent. Rice, Crescent. Crescent was safe, right? Nodding, I slowly moved my hovering fork out of the way. “Yeah. Sure.”
He took the container, closing it up nice and neat. “Awesome, this should last until we get home, and then we’ll both have some for dinner. Sound good?”
“Uh, yeah. Sounds good.” I drifted away, looking at the world around us. Most of the other tables were occupied, people gathering to eat together like it was the most normal thing in the world.
All of them were talking as they ate, like I used to with Jude. It was always small, shallow conversations, or little mean threats thrown my way, but it was something. I wondered what conversations over food were supposed to sound like normally.
People walked down the sidewalks, perusing the many stores on the strip, dressed in all sorts of different outfits.
I liked seeing how people expressed themselves.
One group walked by, all of them dressed in some form of black clothing.
I watched as one person turned to the side, revealing the graphic printed on the black background of their shirt.
The main crew of the One Piece characters, all front and center, with the title in the usual stylistic letters behind them. I did a quick double take, trying to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
From beside me, Crescent chuckled. “Wow, that really brings me back.”
“What does?” I didn’t dare look at him. If I did, he might notice, and he might remember. Maybe he was looking at something else entirely.
“That guy’s shirt. One Piece.”
Well, there went that idea. The group of people walked away, disappearing into one of the shops. I blinked just as my stomach cramped, turning it into more of a wince that I tried to push through. “Wow, yeah. That was a long time ago, huh?”
“Did you ever watch it or keep up with the manga?”
“Nah. Never got the chance to.”
He hummed, then led us into silence for a moment. I was trying to pretend everything was fine with my stomach, refusing to look at him head-on.
Eventually, it broke. The silence, along with my heart. All at once. “I haven’t tried to watch it since the last time we watched it together, you know. It just didn’t feel right.”
I turned to the side just enough to look at him. He was already looking at me, eyebrows drawn down, a sad look in his eyes that I wanted to replace. If I could hold an emotion in my hands and crush it for him, I would. “Really?”
He pushed one of his earbuds further into his ear, scratching behind it afterward like he was anxious or something. “Yeah, man. I don’t know. I tried to, once. I had it pulled up on the TV, but I just couldn’t press play without you there with me.”
The last time we had sat down to watch an episode together was approximately three days before I crushed his heart.
I’d already known it would be our last time together as friends, so I’d tried to be as happy as possible.
As fun as possible. Crescent had seen through it, though, because of course he had.
I’d never forget the scent of the extra butter popcorn we’d shared, or the way we’d laughed together. It was our thing. Crescent and Elio, anime-watching buddies.
And we never did it again.
I cleared my throat, cutting through the sludge stuck in it. “I’m glad we had that time together, though. Before everything happened.”
“Me too.” He sighed and looked away for a split second before looking right back at me. Had he seen something? “It’s all I could think about for a while, actually. How easy it’d felt between us that night.”
That’d been on purpose. A perfectly curated good night together to counteract what was soon to come.
I’d known all along that I was going to break his heart.
I could still feel the looming, ominous presence at the back of my brain as if it were that night again.
I hated it. It was tight in my chest, pressing and squeezing my heart until it barely beat. I’d been terrified.
Of Jude, and who I was slowly becoming because of him.
When I hadn’t replied in a while, Crescent picked up our waters. “Come on. Do you want to shop some more, or do you want to go home?”
Home.
Was I meant to meet fear face-to-face because of that word? It slithered beneath my skin, carving itself into my veins, making a home there.
“Um, I want to go back to your apartment, please.” There, that was easier. The quick, dejected look on Crescent’s face when I said it, though? Hurt more than any fucking kick to the ribs Jude had ever given me.