The Illusion of Separation

"You're never going to get over this," Carter said.

We were sitting in Waffle House, a place the three of us (Christofer in particular) had deemed as possibly the best place on the planet. We'd been here so many times that the staff now knew to make vegan stuff for Christofer as soon as they spotted him walking in the door. He was probably their only vegan customer which was why they didn't have a separate vegan menu, but by now everyone working there knew how to make vegan waffles, pancakes, or anything else Chris wanted.

He was sitting next to me, Carter across the booth from us. I'm sure it would have looked kind of weird if we ordered three coffees and three meals since only two of us were visible, but I let Chris have my coffee especially since he doesn't put any milk in it and I was not going to drink coffee without milk. Coffee was like a drug to him and everyone who knew him at least semi-well knew that he avoided it during the day and drank it mostly at night, since that was, for the most part, when he got his inspiration and he would stay up for hours perfecting a song he'd written in the early hours of the morning.

I'm sure you're wondering what Carter meant when he said what he said. Well, Christofer had been doing alright in my body, using my mouth to talk to the kids, but he was on the verge of having an emotional breakdown and his voice kept wavering. I had to keep correcting his words as they traveled from his brain to his mouth, reminding him over and over again to talk as if it was me saying it, not him. He wanted to say "I" instead of "Chris" and I had to say, Chris, remember, they're seeing me talk, not you.

Eventually we'd cut the visit short and made up the excuse that my dad wanted me home even though he'd been mostly leaving me alone recently. I guess because he knew Christofer was dead and he wasn't so worried about me "going over to the dark side" now. Carter was respectable enough and even though he was also a musician he had more things to fall back on than Chris did. Carter had graduated and could go to college any old time but Chris had been just about to drop out. According to my dad boys that drop out can never amount to anything and are sure to spend the rest of their lives going around and keeping girls out as long as they possibly can, only bringing them home at three in the morning and even then only to have sex loudly with them in the other room with the parents wide awake and listening.

Chris sighed heavily, elbows on the table. I can't tell you how many times he's been told by various people who know him to get his elbows off the table. "I know. But I don't know what to do. It's so confusing."

I shrugged. "Maybe just move on, then? Or, like, we just won't go to your house anymore. You can live with Carter. Or me," I added as an afterthought, raising one eyebrow in the way Chris envied. I was totally kidding, of course. Christofer is great but he's kind of not the person you want to ask to move in with you. I was even doubting Carter's ability to handle having Chris there.

"I would totally move in with you." Chris rested his head on my shoulder, his blond hair tickling my nose. "You know that, sweetheart."

Carter rolled his eyes and laughed a little. The cool thing about Carter is that he's not the kind to get jealous of what people have together. He has never made a comment about me and Chris being all touchy-feely in public, and you can tell that he's not thinking to himself, Damn, I need myself a girlfriend because I totally feel like the third wheel. Besides, Carter is a good guy. He's cute, he's polite, and he's funny. He'll get a girlfriend soon. His last girlfriend cheated on him which is horrible because I can't see anyone cheating on Carter. The amazing thing is that he didn't even get mad. I'm sure he wasn't happy on the inside but he just broke up with her and when Chris and I called an emergency Waffle House meeting with him to talk about it, Carter just shrugged and said, "She wasn't happy with just me. That's not something I can change so why should I get mad over it? There are a million other girls that would actually like me enough to have just me."

He was right, of course. It was just surprising that he was that insightful. Sure, he was a lot quieter than Chris, but you wouldn't expect someone to say something like that after what happened.

"I know you would," I told Chris, starting to put my arm around his shoulders but knowing it would probably look really weird since he was invisible. "Too bad I wouldn't actually let you."

"Awh, why not?"

"Chris? Your room is, ninety-eight percent of the time, a total mess. You can hardly even find your ukulele most of the time. You shower maybe three times a month, maximum, and wear the same clothes for a week on end. You don't eat like a normal human does, you stay up until five in the morning, and after sex you launch into a forty-five minute theory of the purpose of life and why we're here on this earth." I patted his shoulder, making sure no one was watching. "There's no possible way I'd let you live in my house for more than a week at a time."

"I could stay at your house for a week and then go to Carter's--"

"Chris. No."

Carter laughed sadistically at Chris's pouty face. "Dude, it's okay, you can live with me. We have the guest room, remember? And I have the guitar and I'll buy you a ukulele. Or I'll buy you the same ukulele that you have and then switch them so you have the original one. It'll be okay."

"Only if Hannah promises to visit sometimes," Chris said, sitting back up and giving me the whole puppy-eyes ordeal.

I rolled my eyes. "I shouldn't. I should make you two suffer. I should leave Carter to have to go through the eternal torment of living with you alone. But..." Chris grinned. "...you know I love you, so I'll put up with it every day, as long as I can get away from my dad and convince him that Carter and I are suddenly becoming a lot closer than he thinks."

Chris flicked me on the nose, which was insanely annoying but cute at the same time. "I knew you would."

"Yeah," I said. "I know."