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I let out a single laugh, wipe my mouth with my hand. Of course I fucking did.
“Felt like I needed to see you,” I offer her, glancing down to watch her reaction, but she’s too poised to give me one.
“Oh.” That’s all she gives me.
“I haven’t not seen you on Christmas since I was six.”
“Last year aside,” she says and flicks me a look.
I tried. Turned up to her house, fought her dad to get to her. She wouldn’t see me. Harley punched me in the face when I tried to push past him. Her mum blocked the door with her body. I saw her in there though, just for a second. I saw her and I know she saw me. I think about how she looked at me that night most days now. Catches me off guard, slips into my mind without my permission. Those round eyes more hurt than I’ve ever seen them, more afraid. Our eyes held and I called her name and then Tom fucking England stood between us, shielding her from me like she was his and not mine.
I purse my mouth, say nothing. Becoming a trademark of mine.
“Want me to go?” I offer because it feels like I should. “I’ll get you a taxi.”
“No,” she says resolutely.
I nod once. Swallow. Keep walking. Use the cold to keep me in check. Grateful for it because it means my hands have to stay in my pockets; any warmer and they’d be out on the street, trying to brush up against hers.
“So,” she says after a few more minutes of silence, “does Jordan know you’re here?”
I stare straight ahead. “No.”
She peers up at me. “Well, did you get me anything for Christmas?”
“No.” I smirk at her, lying. It’s in my pocket and I’m not ready yet. “You get me anything?”
She gives me a look. “I’d have thought that my having forgiven you might’ve been enough.”
I walk ahead of her a few steps, turn around so we’re toe to toe for no real reason more than I want to see all of her.
“Have you actually forgiven me?”
Her face looks sad. “I guess not.”
I nod. “Fair enough.”
“And now you have a girlfriend,” she says brightly but her eyes are dim. “Bit of a pile on, really.”
She steps around me, keeps walking.
I walk after her — it’s what she wants me to do. Me chasing her. It’s how we are now. She makes me work for it 100% of the time.
Didn’t used to be like this, but since I cheated on her it’s like she needs me to prove to her that I want her infinitely. It’s a glass that can’t be full. There’s a hole in the bottom of the cup where I broke her and all the ways I want her fall through it.
I catch up to her and she stands at the crossroad, arms folded over her chest. Her face is in a bit of a frown, watching the cars go by as we wait for green. She and I, we’re forever waiting for green. It’s always the red man.
“How different do you think our lives might be if we weren’t how we are with each other?” She blinks up at me.
I clear my throat once. “How are we with each other?”
“Caught,” she says without thinking. I don’t know whether I’m relieved or if my heart starts to sink.
“Like those turtles—” She nods, glancing up at me. “—in the plastic rings and they just grow with them stuck around them. Deformed.”
Fuck. I hang my head and we cross the road.
“This is my street,” she tells me, nodding down Upper Grosvenor.
