Page 31 of Final Score

Love. One stupid, insignificant word that could put you back together or break you even further apart. Right now, Jenner and I are breaking. Cracks splintering their way through both our hearts, and I didn’t know if we’d ever be able to put the pieces back together again.

It’s even worse when you know the damage is your fault. I didn’t regret my decision to leave California. I did, however, regret the pain I had caused. Between Oliver texting me details of every dumb ass decision Jenner had made in the past month, and Jenner’s constant texts and phone calls. I had silenced my notifications indefinitely. I needed space and time to think. It was already hard enough not talking to Jenner without the onslaught of daily messages coming through my phone.

I just had to wait until he moved on... which he would eventually, and hope I was strong enough to handle it when he did. It’s that thought that goes through my mind as I sit on the couch, in my fuzzy pajamas, a tub of ice cream in hand and trashy reality tv in repeat. Ben & Jerry will be my new boyfriends. At least they don’t act like a cocky asshole, but in reality, have a soft side and are one of the kindest people you’ve ever met. I burrow further into the blankets, wondering how long I have to sit on the couch in order to leave a permanent imprint. One more weekend couldn’t hurt, right?

I hear the front door open and for a split second my heart flutters, thinking maybe he’s on the other side of the door. I’m not above the feeling of regret I felt when Fallon opened the door carrying a large shopping bag. Not bothering to glance in my direction, she walks into the kitchen rummaging around before un-plugging the tv from the outlet. She stands over me looking annoyed.

“You look pathetic. Get up.” She barks as I stare at her, speechlessly. “Don’t look at me like I just kicked your puppy. You got yourself into this mess and now you’re going to fix it.”

“Seriously Fal?” I ask suddenly, furious at my best friend. “Way to rub salt in the wound.”

“What? No one made you leave that hotel room with the gorgeous man. That decision was all for you. Because you were scared.” Fallon answers, pointing a finger in my face before continuing. “Let me tell you something, woman. Everyone is scared. Life is scary. But you have to be scared, say fuck it, and do it, anyway! Falling for Jenner was the happiest I’ve ever seen you. Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Tell me how you really feel.” I snap around a spoonful of chocolate ice cream. Fallon pulls the spoon from my mouth before I can take another bite.

“You know I love you, but you’re an idiot. So, you’re going to get off this couch and stop looking like a commercial for the next sappy romcom and go get your man. There’s a party tonight and we are going.”

“Fallon, I can promise you. He doesn’t want to see me.” I answer, trying and failing to hold on to the blanket she’s forcefully pulling off my body.

“I don’t care about him and what he wants. What I care about right now is not seeing you be a permanent couch potato.” Fallon responds, falling slightly as she wins our game of tug-o-war. A smug smile on her face, as she folds the blanket neatly back into the basket under the end table. “You’re messing up the energy in the apartment. I’m going to have to do a serious cleanse once you’re back to normal.”

“If I agree to go, can I finish my ice cream when I come home?” I ask sweetly.

“Fine. Now go get ready, we’re leaving at 9pm.” She yells already on her way into her room. The door shuts, as I stare at the clock on the tv. I have 2 hours to get ready. Great.

It’s decided I’m never leaving the couch again. Because Jenner is drunk and surrounded by puck bunnies. Whom is he not flirting with but still not trying to fight off? They need to get lost. My blood boils as one draws a finger down his biceps, trying to get his attention by putting her tits in his face. His eyes glaze over, not bothering to look in her direction as he finishes what looks to be his seventh beer of the night.

“Kat.” Fallon whispers beside me.

“Don’t start. You made me come here. You told me it would be a good idea. I should have stayed home.” I whisper yell, not wanting to draw attention to my position against the far wall and closest to the exit.

“Kat wait.” Fallon answers, grabbing my hand.

“Don’t.” I snap, pulling my hand from her grasp. I storm outside to my truck. Fallon can find her own way home. I don’t give a damn.

Tennessee Whiskey floats through the speakers, lulling my anger to a slow simmer as I pull out of the driveway. Raindrops slide down the windshield as I see Jenner run out the front door, down the wooden steps and onto the pavement below. Rushing in my general direction. Oliver and Fallon aren’t far behind him. I can’t hear what Oliver says, but it causes Jenner to stop in his tracks.

In the rearview mirror, illuminated under the single streetlamp, I see Jenner, standing motionless in the middle of the street drenched from the rain as I drive further down the road. I don’t take my eyes off the rearview mirror until Jenner’s figure blurs into his surroundings in the darkness. I can’t tell wither he’s blurred by the rain or my tears, as a wretched sob rips from my chest. Another, much larger crack, forms in my heart forms as I drive into the darkness.

I wake up to hushed whispers coming from the kitchen and the distinct smell of coffee.

“Do not wake her up.” Fallon snaps.

“The sooner she wakes up, the sooner we fix this.” Oliver answers, not bothering to whisper.

At least Fallon made it home safely. I hadn’t heard her come in last night, but I wasn’t paying much attention either. Sitting up, I look at my reflection in the mirror. The makeup from last night I hadn’t bothered to wash off is smeared darkly across my face, tear stains melting it like snow. I am a mess.

Let’s get this over with. I think before opening my bedroom door. The voices in the kitchen stop arguing instantly. An awkward silence settling over the apartment as I walk into the kitchen. I don’t care enough to wash my face, though I know my skin will hate me for it later. Oliver and Fallon are sitting at the dining room table, doughnuts, and coffee between them.

“I brought doughnuts from the cafe.” Oliver answers in a greeting. I don’t miss the fact that the logo on the box is from the cafe Jenner, and I went to that first morning, when we discussed our idiotic plan.

“Can we talk?” Fallon asks. I nod, taking a glazed doughnut from the box. It may have been a bribe, but it was a damn good one.

Oliver gives me a once over, taking in my messy hair, smeared makeup, and stained pajamas. He looks at Fallon, one perfect eyebrow arched. Giving her a look that says, why the hell didn’t you tell me it was this bad?

“Maybe you should just listen to this.” He answers, pressing play on a voice note in his phone.

My blood chills. The doughnut threatening to make its way back up to the surface as I listen.