Breach

Coming home to find the apartment empty is a bit of a shock. In the kitchen on the fridge is a note from Bishop, stating that he had went home and had left me dinner in the fridge. I open said fridge to make sure the brat hadn’t lied. Upon seeing a tupperware bowl full of food I grin and continue on reading the note.

It says nothing special, just not to forget to eat and don’t work myself to death. I roll my eyes. He actually sounds a bit like my mother. I’m a bit concerned for his mental health.

I’m somewhat disappointed Bishop has left. At the same time I’m relieved. For about 3 days Bishop has been acting a bit strange. He seems to be avoiding me…we talk but he dodges any chance of physical contact. Just yesterday he practically jumped across the room when I sat next to him on the couch.

I don’t see what the problem is…unless…I guess the other day when I took my keys from him he got a little freaked out. It’s understandable. I was too close for too long for that touch to be considered friendly. Damn. Seriously Antony…what’s wrong with you?

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. He’ll be back…he always comes back.

…is what I said…however Bishop hasn’t returned in four days. He’s only sent a few text messages and has ignored all my calls, claiming he’s either too busy or out to answer them. The hell is his problem? If this is about the key thing…how should I bring it up?

“Oh, sorry Bishop about thinking strange thoughts about you. Forgive me and come back over?”

I can already see how smoothly that’ll go over.

With a heavy sigh I fall back onto the couch. The apartment is quiet, which is odd to me now. Having Bishop around it’s never quiet. He’s always bugging me, talking to me, turning some stupid TV show on or playing some ridiculous music while prancing around the place.

I told him it was annoying but come on…we all know that wasn’t what I meant. I…enjoy his presence. How am I supposed to speak with him, if that really is the problem? Should I just ask him what’s up? Who knows there might be something else on his mind that he just wasn’t sure whether or not he should speak with me about it.

I don’t know how long I hold my phone staring blankly at the screen. I bite my lip, contemplating whether or not to text Bishop. Or maybe I should call him? I doubt he’ll answer. If he doesn’t want to answer he won’t. I shouldn’t bother calling. It’s his problem. If he wants to act like this then whatever.

Just as I’m thinking this my phone begins vibrating in my grip. I nearly drop it out of shock. The screen blinks, “Bishop.” And now it’s my turn to act like a brat and debate on whether or not I should bother reading it.

Of course I do but you know…I thought about not reading it…

I’m coming tomorrow to get some more of my clothes. I’ll make you some dinner before leaving.

Suddenly I feel very…angry. Why the hell is he coming over to get his clothes? Why can’t he stay long enough to see me, at least for a second? Something is obviously up, right? I’m not overreacting…am I? Come on, I know something is up. He’s acting weird. Since when did he want to live with his dad again?

He’s avoiding me. That damned brat is avoiding me and it’s really pissing me off.

Sometime during my rant within my head I ended up dialing Bishop’s number. I don’t realize I have until I reach his voice mail. Of course it goes to voice mail when only a second ago it sent me a text. I know his phone is right at his side. It always is and that only infuriates me more.

“Listen here brat,” I hiss into the phone. He may ignore my calls but that won’t keep me from leaving voice mails. If he deletes them I’ll just continue leaving them until he calls back. “Don’t go ignoring my calls when you just sent me a text. I know you’re there and I know you have your phone on you. You’re like a woman with her purse; you go nowhere without it. I know something is up with you, so call me back or I swear I will burn everything you left here.”

It’s funny how moments ago I was wondering how to talk to him but there I went screaming into the phone just because I got a little agitated with him. I amaze myself sometimes…

I’m a bit embarrassed now to be honest. I reacted in such a way so easily with Bishop but if Jean and I were in this situation I probably wouldn’t have done a thing. Proves that I really am sick, huh? I’m messed up…developing a crush on a high school student.

With an aggravated sigh I run my finger through my hairs. My eyes glance to my phone resting on the coffee table. It hasn’t moved. It hasn’t ringed. It hasn’t vibrated. I look to the clock. Only ten minutes have passed since I called Bishop so I guess if something really is up it’ll take him some time to call me back…with some bullshit excuse as to why he’s avoiding me.

I decide on watching some TV to calm my nerves…and to help pass the time until Bishop calls. If he does.

When my phone suddenly begins ringing I know exactly who it is.

“H-Hey Antony,” Bishop mumbles softly, obviously a bit scared. I don’t know whether it’s because I got a little out of control over the phone or if he’s still not sure what kind of lie he’s going to give to me. “Listen I’ve just been…busy recently. I have my senior project to do and Mick’s been wanting to hang out and stuff and I just didn’t want to bother you about any of it.”

It isn’t hard to tell Bishop is lying. He may think he’s skilled at it and at times he probably is but right now I can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

“Bishop,” I hiss in a way to tell him without actually saying it that I know he’s lying. He groans softly, almost too quietly for me to hear.

“What?” He asks, playing dumb.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“I’m not. It’s the truth!” Bishop huffs. He’s trying his best to convince me. It isn’t working but if he doesn’t want to tell me the truth then he won’t. His lie only bugs me more.

“Right,” I sigh, rubbing the space between my eyes. I hate arguing. “Fine, whatever I’ll talk to you whenever you feel like it I guess.”

“An-“ I cut Bishop off before he can finish. It is now my turn to act like the spoiled 18 year old brat and to be honest I am not embarrassed or ashamed at all.

I’ll regret acting like this later but for now I will relish in the fact that Bishop is probably as ticked off as I was moments ago. If he isn’t angry then he’s probably fretting over it. He’ll either tell me the truth or stop avoiding me. His choice.