Coffee and Cigarettes

"Quit moping," Libby said sternly as I sat upside-down over the edge of her bed.

"I'm not moping," I replied stubbornly. "I'm just thinking."

"And moping," she added. "Come on. I know that you really liked him, but seeing him at the park with whoever that was just proves what a jerk he is. And you deserve so much better than that!"

I sat up and sighed. "I know that he's a jerk, but..."

"But what?" Libby snapped. "God, Morgan. He's not important. He was just playing with your affections the entire time. Is it really worth losing sleep over? Is he?"

After a moment of silence, tears started to well up in my eyes. Finally, I whispered, "...Yes."

Libby sighed loudly. "He must really mean a lot to you," she said softly.

"He...he does," I agreed, "but I didn't know that he meant this much."

"Love's a funny thing," Libby nodded.

"Wait," I interjected. "Love? I-I never mentioned that word! I'm not in love with Frank. Me caring about him and being in love with him are two completely different things!"

Libby shrugged. "If you say so. But love is different for everyone. Maybe you are in love but just don't know it yet."

"Lib, I barely know the guy."

"The two of you always seemed overly friendly with one another..."

"That doesn't mean I love him!" I growled. "God! Why does this have to be so hard?"

Libby snickered. "That's what she said."

"Libby," I groaned, "now is not the time for persiflage."

"Persi-whaaa?"

"Joking around," I said flatly. "I'm not in love with him. End of story."

Libby rolled her eyes and spun around in her chair. She had been playing Kingdom Hearts 2, but stopped to give me that whole lecture. But she soon went back to her game and started talking to herself about the characters. She tends to do that, but only with video games.

"I still say I'm right," she muttered under her breath.

"You know what, I can't be around you right now. I'm going to the park to get some fresh air."

"Merry Christmas to you too!" she called out as I slammed the door to her room.

Yes, it was in fact Christmas day. That morning, I unceremoniously bolted out the door post-getting dressed to go to Libby's house to tell her what I'd seen the previous night. Needless to say that it didn't go well...

I hugged my jacket closer to my body. My boots crunched through the icy snow as I made my way back home to rejoin my family in time to open gifts. I assumed that Bob had waken up...for whatever reason, he always sleeps in an hour later than the rest of us on Christmas day.

I walked inside and took off my coat and boots and moved closer to the heat of the fire. Blair was sitting by the tree sipping some hot cocoa.

"Merry Christmas," she smiled from behind her mug.

"Merry Christmas," I returned, sitting down next to her.

"Hey," she said, pulling out a small box from behind her that was wrapped in red and blue paper. "This was on our front door this morning when Dad went to go get the paper. It's for you."

I looked down at it and raised my eyebrow. "Did it come with a card?"

Blair shook her head. "Go ahead and open it. Mom and Dad are getting some eggnog or something, they won't mind if you open just one present."

"Okay," I said reluctantly. I carefully removed the blue and red wrapping paper and opened the lid of the box that held the gift. My eyes widened as I gingerly lifted a white gold locket on a silver chain.

"It's beautiful," Blair sighed dreamily. "Is there anything inside the locket?"

"Let's see," I mumbled, gently opening the clasp. I opened it and a note folded into tiny sections tumbled out.

Blair and I stared at the tiny folded piece of paper for what felt like hours. She finally broke the silence and said (rather impatiently), "Well, are you going to open it?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

I snatched the paper off the floor and unfolded it carefully so I didn't rip it. Once I'd finally finished my task, my eyes scanned over it...once they had, they rolled as I sighed. The paper read:

Sorry.
-Frank♥
"I'm so sure," I said to myself. Blair raised an eyebrow as she read the note as well.

"Who's this Frank boy?" she asked suspiciously, wiggling her eyebrows.

"No one important," I said dismissively. "I'm going to give this to Mikey so he can give it back to him. I don't want it."

"You probably wanted it five minutes ago before you read that note," Blair scoffed. "Keep it. He clearly has feelings for you or is really apologetic if he went and bought you a gift that expensive."

I shrugged and put the locket back in the box. "I just don't know, Blair," I said. "He hurt me really badly. He doesn't have remorse...he's just toying with me, I know it."

"Are you sure?" Blair asked. "Are you sure that he just isn't really sorry for what happened?"

"You don't even know what he's done to me," I spat. "You have no idea what kind of pain he's caused me."

"Morgan, look at who you're talking to," she said bluntly. I lowered my eyes in shame at my little unfriendly outburst. "I know that you never told me. So...come on. Let's talk. Tell me what happened."

And so I did. I explained to her from the beginning of the story, which was when Frank and I first met. She sat there and listened patiently until my story was over. Once I'd finished, I inhaled sharply and said, "So?"

"Talk to him," she said simply before getting up and walking out of the room.

Looking back at the box that held the locket, all I could think of was, "That's so much easier said than done."