Breaking Me Slowly

Twenty One

“Does that make me a bad friend?” I ask Grayson, drawing circles on his chest with my finger. Once again, he had snuck into my room in the middle of the night to keep me company.

“You’re not a bad friend,” he answers.

“I mean— I just feel selfish for asking her to stay.”

Grayson sighs. It’s too dark in the room for me to see his expression. To tell what he’s thinking. Even if I did see his face, I probably still wouldn’t know what he was thinking.

“I’m sure she understands where you’re coming from.”

I close my eyes, picturing the look of despair on her face when she asked me to leave with her.

“I know Jensen doesn’t want her to go either.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not up to Grayson,” he says, softly.

I sit up on my elbow to get a better look at him. “I know it’s not up to him, but don’t you think he should tell her how he feels?” I stare into his piercing blue eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, pondering over what he was going to say next. It’s something I’ve begun to notice about him. He’s always cool   and collected, always carefully choosing his words.

“I think that’s his decision if he wants to tell her or not.”

I narrow my eyes, knowing he could see me doing so. “You don’t think he should.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you’re thinking it.”

“You really wanna know what I think?”

“Let’s hear it.”

“I don’t think it would make a difference if he told her.” He takes a deep breath. “For once, I think Jensen is right and we just need to respect her decision.”

I lay back on my pillow with a huff. “I just don’t want her to regret her decision.” I think it funny how she had told me the same thing earlier.

The bed moves as Grayson props himself on his arm and leans over me. “Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. Regardless, it’s her decision.”

I open my mouth to protest, to say he’s wrong, but something stops me. Maybe it’s because I know deep down that he is right.

“Fine,” I sigh. “Maybe you and Jensen are right.”

He rests his head in the crook of my neck and chuckles. His lips softly graze my neck, sending shivers down my body.

“Everything will work out just fine,” he says.

“How do you know?” I challenge.

I feel his lips curve into a smile. “I just know.” he pulls away and plants a kiss on my forehead.

“I don’t want to lose her, too,” I say, voicing my thoughts.

“I know.”

“Do you know when she leaves?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“I never asked.”

He hesitates. “A few days.”

“A few days? That’s so soon,” I complain.

“She’s eager to go home,” he grunts in response.

I sighed for the hundredth time that night. A few days wasn’t that much time, but it was enough to possibly convince her to stay. Sydney was all I had left of home. And maybe it was selfish of me, but I had to try.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks.

My eyes flick to him. I make out the outline of his face in the dark, looking at where his eyes should be.

“Nothing.”

If he doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t say. I feel the weight of his gaze, even in the dark.

“You should get some rest,” he says, surprising me. “We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

I turn on my side, my back to him. Soon enough, I feel his chest press against my back and his hand rests upon my hip, drawing circles until I fall asleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night, my mouth dry as the Sahara Desert. I sit up in bed, noticing that the left side was empty. Grayson had snuck back into his room already. I throw the covers off myself and get out of bed.

A cold glass of water is what I needed. I head down the long hallway that reaches the main staircase leading down to the bottom floor.

“Juliette,” I hear someone call out as I’m grabbing a glass from the cupboard.  

I yelp and spin around.

“Isabel,” I breath in a sigh of relief. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean too.” she says with a sympathetic smile.

She stands a few feet away from me, closer to the table by the back door. She’s wearing red silk pajama shorts with a matching button up, long sleeve shirt. I suddenly feel self-conscious in my old school t-shirt and workout shorts.

Her face is devoid of any make up, making her look a couple years younger. Her skin is perfectly clear and flawless. It was the first time in my life I’ve ever felt envious.

I clear my throat, thinking of how to break the awkward silence. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to make small talk in the middle of the night.”

“That’s alright,” she says, unfazed. “I really wasn’t either. I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Me too.”

She nods.

“I’m just going to finish…” I trail off, holding up the glass I had grabbed earlier.

“Oh, uh—sure.” Isabel takes a seat at the table as I fill up the glass with water.

I decide to sit at the table across from her. She seemed surprised.

Again, the awkward silence settles over us.

“Look,” I begin, “I just want us to be… civil.” Her brows furrow, taking in my words. “We don’t have to be friends— we don’t even have to talk to each other, really. We just stay out of each other’s way.”

She stares.

I wonder what she’s thinking.

“Out of each other’s way,” she says.

“Yes, we just say the casual ‘hello’ when we need to.”

Her lips curve into a malicious grin. “Why, Juliette, are you afraid of me?”

“You’re nothing more than a nuisance.”

Her grin falls. Her fingers drum against the table. “Fine. Nothing more than a hello.”

“Fine.” I get up from the table to place my glass in the sink.

I walk away, hoping she keeps her promise.