Forever and Goodbye

It’s been a week; One whole week, and we’re still here, in Jake’s dirty apartment; or I am, anyway... Callie has barely spoken two words to me, since she’s been out almost every day with dear old Jakob. The few days they deign to stay home, she either sleeps, or avoids Connor (the mysterious, hot, shower boy), like the Black Plague. And so, I haven’t had much attention lately besides the odd times I had attempted conversation with said mysterious boy, which happen to be incredibly awkward.
Connor, I was realizing, was quite the confusing character. Never had I seen him without some sort of hat or hood which completely hid his face; if I recall correctly, the closest I've been to ever seeing his hair was when I first met him, and in that case, his hair was not exactly what I was staring at, to be honest. He was always locking himself in his room, doing God knows what, making it even so much as spotting him rare, and actual conversations even more so. I’d tried again and again to get something other than grunts out of him, yet that proved next to impossible. He didn't even bother answer when I tried to get what had happened between himself and Callie out into the open. And that was yet another mystery to me, included in the list of A) where she and Jake disappeared to everyday; B) Why she seemed to be pushing me away; and C) Why I was still stuck in this smelly apartment, sleeping on one of those old reversible bed couches. Ugh.

Today, I was alone letting every possibility of my girlfriend’s whereabouts drive me crazy. Connor had begun tagging along with the two, leaving me here under the pretence that the police had finally had the call for my disappearance. I guess my parents realized I wasn't wreaking havoc in their ‘peaceful’ lives any longer. But come on, all I need is a pair of sunglasses and some different clothes! I’d lost so much weight lately, going down from 160 to 145 because of all the pot I’d been smoking to get through my lonesome days, and of course, the lack of decent food in this claustrophobic atmosphere.
But today I was sober, shaking off my dependency with cigarettes, and forming a plan of action to confront Callie once she came home; if she came home at all tonight.
I can still remember that first morning, when she and Jake had gone outside to ‘talk’ about Connor's presence in his apartment. Once the subject of their obvious quarrel had fled to another room, I had stuck my ear next to the door. Callie had been so violently yelling that I could not make out much of anything. The one thing I was certain of was:
“What were you thinking, Jakob!? He could ruin everything, all of our plans! Blow our cover way out into the open! What if he tells …..” The rest was lost due to the sound of my pounding heart. I could feel it beat against my chest, I was so confused, so afraid things would change, and ultimately, they did.
I did hear one more thing, however, this time from Jake’s lips. He said it so quietly it was barely audible; but what I did hear stayed in my mind like a splinter digging deep in the palm of your hand.
“Don’t worry, beautiful, he’s cool. I made sure he was: the only thing he’ll be blowing is my cock if I tell him too.”
Then had come the muffled sound of Callie's laughter, except this time it was linked with a tone I had never heard her use before. Something dark, definitely, maybe even seductive, but through the door, I could not be sure; and that fact, terrified me to the bone. When had she changed so drastically without me realizing it?

I sat now watching a re-run of Breaking Bad: Jake seemed to love this show, which mildly eluded me. From what I could tell, he had some sort of income which kept us in this apartment, yet he was unemployed; I figured he was dealing drugs, which could explain the recent knocks at the door from skinny little nobodies asking for pot, acid, ecstasy, and various other requests. Another bump to make it through the day here in New Haven I suppose, I mean, who could blame them?
I could hear footsteps coming up the stairs now, a set of keys jingling; I hastily wrapped myself in my blanket and pretended to have been falling asleep, engrossed in Walter and Jesse’s many complications.
“Hey, hey!” Callie called, practically dancing into the room. She seemed elated for once this week, completely happy to see me; which was odd enough on her good days. She twirled over to me, in her faded white jeans, planted a kiss on my lips (the first in two days I might add), and flopped down beside me. I cracked a smile; she seemed back to normal, for now at least.
Jake walked straight to the kitchen, nodding at me in acknowledgement as our eyes met. Connor did not even bother with such formalities: he just walked in with his ridiculous black beanie hat, slammed the door and ignored us completely, save for a quick glance at Callie. He then proceeded to skulk into what I presumed was his room, as he barely ever left it.
I felt another body settling down beside me, knowing Jake would be studiously examining the T.V, while stirring his Mr. Noodles as he always did when he came home.
“What is this??” He exclaimed out of nowhere. “It’s the fourth time I see this episode! Fuck those re-runs.”
I turned to look at him, those ever present black rings seemed darker tonight, and yet his dark maroon eyes seemed to have a tint of amusement, as if his attention lay not on the screen, but on a pleasant memory he had playing on repeat. It was odd, yet normal, as everything was odd here.
“Told yah to get Netflix, you idiot.” I replied quickly between thoughts. He began to whine about our monetary situation: typical Jakob.
“But it costs moneeey. And money is not something we have,” he paused, raising from his slumped pose and gulping his current mouthful of noodles down his throat.
“Speaking of money,” he stated, “did anyone come by today while we were out?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, a woman in her 30’s; she was plump, about 5’4, totally out of it.” He nodded approvingly at my description of the druggie that had stopped by two hours earlier. She had seemed distressed and completely lost it once I told her Jake could not supply her fix of Coke at the moment… I had to slam the door in her face before she got violent, which she had definitely came close to be right about then.
“Ahh, that was Angelika Hastings. Major Coke addict, she comes by quite often, since I’ve got the best of any drug dealer in this sad excuse for a town.” Yep, that confirmed it, totally dealing. Not that there was anything wrong with dealing, as long as he didn't caught. Jake slumped back for a moment, tipped his mug of noodles and broth to his mouth, swallowed whole the rest, and promptly got up.
“As a matter of fact, I should probably get to her place before she shows up here with her buddies. That wouldn't go over well. Tsk. The fuck heads in this place, I swear.”
With that as a parting word, he marched into his room to what I assumed was his stash, came out with a bulge the size of a fist in his jacket pocket, and left. This left me alone with Callie, which was exactly what I had wanted; although I had no idea if that was to be considered a good, or bad thing. Callie was beginning to doze off on my shoulder, so the time was now or never.
"Hey, Callie?" I started hesitantly. She replied with a soft grunt as if to say she was listening, but barely.
"What's been going on lately?" I tried to keep my voice as soft as it could be, but there was an edge at the back of my mind, and I knew Callie could feel my body tensing beneath her. She stirred, sitting up and facing me as one should when confrontation was inevitable.
"What do you mean? Nothing's happening, Tara." And there she was, pouting, knowing I was about to confront her about her whereabouts, and everything else. I couldn't help but swallow the ball forming inside of my throat.

"Look, Callie, I don't know what's been going on with you, ok?" She was about to reply, her face slightly serious when I raised my hand and cut her off completely: I had to get this out. As quickly as possible.
"Callie, we were supposed to leave New Haven a week ago" again, she tried to cut me off, "Jesus Christ, Callie, would you just listen?! ok? Look. We were supposed to be across the world by now, somewhere we could start our lives over again, but yet here we are. And here I am, alone every single day, not knowing where you are or what you're doing. You really are worrying me, here! You come home late at night, or not at all, and on top of that, you're pushing me away! Would it kill you to have an actual conversation with me once in a while? I mean come on, I am your girlfriend? Right!?
"Call, babe, you're killing me here. It seems like you're paying more attention to Jake than you are me! What is going on? Are you cheating on me? Because for God's sake if you are, don't leave me in the dark, okay? I love you, and I just want what's best for you. For us. And about Connor... What's the story there? Don't you think I have the right to know? Don't you think I should know? Why are you keeping me out, Callie? Why?"
I rushed through, not knowing what was about to come out of my mouth, and trying my best to avoid eye contact with Callie. I didn't know how she was going to react, and I was scared she would laugh in my face. Yet, as I dared to look into her green eyes, I found them raging, and littered with traces of hatred. I had never thought she would get as angry as she was now.

She stared me down, holding eye contact, and finally she spoke; but all of her grace was gone, all of her kindness: eradicated. All that was left was a stone-cold voice, pitched low, and with no emotions whatsoever.
"How dare you? After all I have done for you, you doubt me? What kind of a girlfriend are you? You have no right to question my motives, my whereabouts: You are Mine. Not the other way around. I will do what I see fit, whether you like it or not, Princess, and you can't say a damn fucking word about it. I had hoped you would shut up and trust me for a change, but like every last one of my lovers, you disgust me."
She turned away, her face and eyes draining of all emotion. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, but even more so, I felt every word that came out of her mouth like daggers plunging into my heart. This couldn't be Callie, could it? She would never say any of that: the real Callie loved me... Didn't she?
I reached out for her in an attempt to bring her back to me, the lovable, beautiful Callie that was always there for me, but as my fingers brushed her face, the back of her hand came down onto my cheek, forcing the breath out of my lungs, and making me fall onto the floor, holding my burning face.
Callie bounced up out of the sofa and glared at me as she would a dog that had attempted to bite her pristine hand: with pity and disgust.
"Let this be your lesson." she said with her stone cold voice. The next thing I knew, she was walking down the hall and into Connor's room, without so much as a glance back at the mess she'd made of me.

Connor came out about 5 minutes later, being kicked out of his room, he muttered, but I barely noticed. I was still on the floor, in the fetal position, crying and wondering what I had done to deserve this. I was distantly aware of Connor's strong arms picking me up and off the floor, placing me onto the makeshift bed. I was shivering: Callie had robbed me of my warmth, the warmth inside of my heart, and his body heat seeping through his fleece sweater was welcoming.
He set me down gently, pulling the blankets around us as he laid down close to me, and gently put his hand against my shoulder.
"Don't touch me." I muttered weakly, shying my shoulder away from his open hand.
Connor hesitantly took his hand away from my shoulder, just to cup it around my chin and force me to look into his eyes. It was the first time I had ever seen them; they were a deep green, close to Callie's colour, except slightly darker, and with such depth and calm I had never seen before. The resemblance only made me cry even harder.
"Hey," he murmured quietly, almost kindly; "I don't bite." that was all he said, and yet it was somehow comforting, and in that moment, I was desperate for any form of support.
So I let him tuck me into his chest, where I cried into his shirt; and when my eyes became too dry for tears, I sobbed quietly as he stroked my hair.
I remember thinking how nice it was to be cared for, even if it was by a man I could barely get two words out of on a normal day. A guy I had come to deign meeting because of his rough attitude and his complete disregard for human interaction.
The moment before I fell asleep, I became acutely aware of his fingers tracing circles onto my exposed shoulders (I had been wearing a tank top), which sent warm shivers down my spine; and at the last moment, as my conscious was tumbling down into oblivion, I could almost hear him say in his velvety voice:
"For what it's worth, you deserve much better than how she treated you tonight. I'm sorry you had to see her like that; I promise..."
The rest was lost to me as his voice finally pushed me into a deep, dreamless slumber.