Fire Escape

"Do you, by chance, know where I put my black hat?"

"No," she called back from our room.

Tossing around pillows from the couch and moving things on the shelf, I heaved a sigh. "Are you sure?"

"You have ten black hats. Which one are you talking about?"

I fixed the pillows and did one quick circle just in case I missed a spot then headed into the bedroom. "You know... The black one, the one I always wear."

Maybe it was because she had finally kept her hair down. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing a pair of my pants. Or maybe it had to do with the blue lace bra she was wearing. Her skin was on the pale side and littered with freckles. Her collar bone was raised just enough for me trace my fingers along it. She let her hair go curly and it made me smile, probably more than I had realized. And her eyes, God. They--

"You're staring."

I quickly blinked a few times, snapping myself out of it. "I'm admiring."

"It's making me uncomfortable."

"Why? You're beautiful."

I noticed her blush a little but I could tell she was trying not to think about it.

"In fact, you could go to Pascal's like that. I wouldn't mind."

She dropped her mascara in the drawer, slamming it shut, then pushed past me. "Don't be stupid, Kris."

*

"Come on, we all pee in the shower. If you don't... Well, then you're lying."

"Pascal!" His wife scolded, hitting him across the chest.

"What?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Everyone does it."

Jordan shrugged, raising his hand a little. "Guilty."

"See," Pascal said, looking to his wife and giving her a smirk.

We passed around the plates of food and kept quiet for the most part. Flower was the first to speak up about how great of a cook Carole-Lyne was and we all followed with a chorus of thank yous.

"So, Paige," Sidney started and I immediately shot him a look. "How's work these days?"

She took a sip of her drink and placed her fork on the plate. "Not bad. I still like it as much as I did when I started. Hopefully I'm not in jeopardy of losing my job like a lot of teachers in the area."

She always got a little upset over the possibility of being let go from her job. She didn't want to depend on anyone; she wanted to be successful by herself. I, on the other hand, wanted to provide for her and make sure that she was taken care of. We fought back and forth about it all the time.

I slid my hand into hers and gave it a light squeeze, reassuring her that it would be alright. She quickly pulled her hand away from mine and placed it on the table, not missing a beat when Sidney asked another question.

So there we sat--Paige and I. And discomfort. It shoved its way in between us, becoming a permanent fixture. I couldn't say anything, not to anyone. She was breaking my heart and all I could do was stare at the table. Paige hadn't said much, either, but she looked more alive than I did. My teammates were fooling around and having a good time and I... I didn't have the energy to join in. Sidney was right; I was pathetic.

Somebody, one of the girls, on the other side of the table got up and started gathering plates and taking them to the kitchen. The rest of the girls followed suit, Paige included.

I was the last one to move from the table, too shaken up to barely think. Every inch of me had gone numb.

Sidney grabbed my arm. "Are you okay?"

"No."

He frowned, reaching over the table and grabbing his drink. "I'm sorry I brought up teaching. I thought she loved it."

"She does," I told him. "But you don't need to apologize; you didn't do anything wrong."

"Come on, let's go find the guys."

Cheers and claps echoed off walls and Sidney and I followed the noise. They were in the living room watching a football game--the Steelers and somebody else. Pascal's two oldest kids were there too.

I found an open spot on the couch and sat down. It was hard not to laugh or at the very least chuckle when you were around these guys, no matter how terrible you felt. They weren't even trying and they probably had no intention of doing so but they made me feel better. They even got my mind off of Paige.

Pushing myself up from the couch, I started toward the kitchen. "Anyone want anything?"

"Another beer," Marc-Andre said, raising his nearly empty bottle in the air.

James did the same. "Make that two."

"Sure. I'll be right back," I replied, stopping just before the kitchen when I heard two voices talking in hushed tones.

"You're breaking his heart."

"I know."

"And you don't feel anything from that? That doesn't hurt you, knowing that you're hurting him?"

"It does. But I just don't know how to tell him, Vero."

"Tell him what?"

I heard her sigh. "That I don't love him anymore."