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The guys have been avoiding me. Even though one of them is always around, they’re keeping to themselves. Even Tex is constantly locked up in my old room, working. I wish I hadn't ignored him and pretended to be asleep that night when he stuck his head in to see if I was okay. If I’d known he was going to stop talking to me and everything would change, I would have been braver.
We still haven’t spoken about what happened between us, and I can’t stop obsessing over it. I don’t regret it at all, just everything that’s happened since. I keep wondering if he regrets it, and the thought that he might, makes me feel sick.
He’s even taken to sleeping in the other room – if he sleeps – rather than joining me in his room. I do think it’s because he regrets what happened between us, but Devon and East are acting just as weird, so maybe it’s something else. I wish I could ask him.
After the fight last week which ended in Devon and East leaving the flat, Devon got into an accident on his bike. Which I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t even have been driving, given the way he was necking his drink from the bottle that night. East met him at the hospital to bring him home the next morning and it was a miracle that he walked through the door with only a few scrapes and bruises on him. East also had a black eye, but no one is talking about that.
The bike wasn’t so lucky. It was totalled. Which makes it even more miraculous that Dev was okay.
I miss them though. Our flat isn’t big by any stretch of the imagination, but I feel lost rattling around it on my own. Lonely.
I long to go out again. I feel ready, though I don’t know why, or what’s brought about this sudden change of heart. I keep gazing out the window at the park opposite, wanting to join in the fun. A couple of times this week I made it down to the lobby, but I’m not brave enough to venture out on my own, and I’m too scared to knock on Tex’s door to ask him to come with me. I don’t want to seem too needy or weak and pathetic, though that’s exactly what I am.
I’m suddenly painfully aware of how much hard work I’ve been for the three of them since I came home. Such a burden. And I want to stop that, be more independent, maybe even start contributing, but I haven’t a clue where to start.
Maybe I should look for a job? Something online that I can do from home.
I’m just deciding that I’ll start by updating my CV when there’s a tentative knock on my door.
“Hello?” I call out. I’m surprised when Devon pops his head round and gives me a nervous grin. He doesn’t usually call on me like this, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look nervous. I didn’t think he had it in him.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah. Haven’t seen much of you this week. Where’s Tex?” I ask, even though the conversation feels forced and awkward. My heart is hammering in my chest, Dev’s nerves triggering my own. What’s going on?
“Him and East have a job. I wondered if you have plans today?”
“What kind of plans?”
“Are you doing anything?”
I look down at the laptop on my bed. Should I tell Devon what I’m planning? No. I probably won’t be able to find anything anyway, and I’ll feel like an even bigger failure if they all know I tried and failed to get a job. So instead I shake my head and look back at him.
He’s pushed the door fully open and is looking around Tex’s room.
“You like it in here?” he asks, his head tilted questioningly to the side.
“It’s…better than my room.”
“And Tex…” He hesitates. “You like sharing a bed with him?”
“When he’s around.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve barely seen any of you since last week. He definitely hasn’t been sleeping with m— in here.”
“Right.” Another awkward pause. “So, are you free?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Want to do something together?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I need a new bike.” He grins ruefully at me. “Wanna help me pick?”
Excitement blossoms in my chest and I nod enthusiastically. Then I halt, suddenly nervous. Going out with Devon to a shop means being around people, strangers, and being far from home. This isn’t a simple walk about the block or picnic in the park. It means going out in a car.
