Food, Cats, and Being Lazy

Vincent was ignoring me, and it annoyed me. Most people ignored me anyway, but he was the one person who at least glanced in my direction and sent me a nod. If he didn’t say hello. Therefore, I noticed it a lot quicker when he didn’t look at me or didn’t stick around to talk to me when he brought Paige home. He didn’t even say hi to me when we bumped into each other between classes.

My stairwell was usually deserted. That was the thing I liked the most and least about it all at once. It was a lonely place where the lights weren’t always bright enough and it was drafty during the winter. I could be alone when I wanted to be alone, but that also meant I was always alone.

I sat down on the bottom step and opened my lunchbox. My mom sometimes liked to make me lunch. She didn’t believe in school lunches so she usually sent us to school with prepackaged foods. I hated when she tried to make sandwiches. It could have done with a little mustard. I didn’t really like mustard, but just a smidgen would have done the trick.

The door opened and my mood went from almost pleasant to irritated. Vincent walked in.

“Took me forever to find you,” he said. I didn’t reply. I was always in the same place. So he couldn’t have looked very hard. Unless he was under the impression that I traveled at lunch time. But he’d found me there before so you would think it would be the first place he’d look. Unless, of course, I was just wrong about how much attention he paid me. “Look,” he said, leaning against the wall and looking down at his shoes. “I’m really sorry—about what I did to you. I know that you felt humiliated and I just made it worse.”

“You could say that,” I muttered as I focused on readjusting the top layer of bread on my soggy sandwich.

“That’s not what I meant to do. It just—came at the wrong time.” I sighed.

“Just go, Vincent. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. You belong to Paige. Not me. It’s not like you owe me anything.”

“I don’t belong to anyone, Piper,” he said. “And I was going to break up with her.” I squished the bread down onto my sandwich. I was about to cross the line from irritated to angry. I just wanted him to go away.

“Well, so much for that,” I said. He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I’ve broken up with her twice. We always just end up back together. I don’t love her and I know that she doesn’t love me. It’s been like that for a while. It’s more that—neither of us wants or knows how to be alone. We’ve been together for so long now. It’s just easier to stick with what you know.”

“Why did you kiss me, VincenVincent was ignoring me, and it just made me even madder. Most people ignored me anyway, but he was the one person who at least glanced in my direction and nodded. If he didn't just say hello. Therefore, I noticed a lot quicker that he was actively avoiding me. He didn't even say hi when we bumped into each other between classes.

My stairwell was usually deserted during lunchtime. That was the thing I liked the most and the least about it all at once. It was a lonely place where the lights weren't always bright enough, and it was drafty during winter. But I could be alone when I wanted to be alone. Which just meant I was always alone.

I sat down on the bottom step and opened my lunchbox. My mom sometimes liked to make my lunch. She didn't believe in school lunches, but she usually just sent us to school with prepackaged stuff. I hated when she actually tried. She could have at least used a little mustard in her sandwiches. I didn't really like mustard, but just a smidgen of it would have taken the sandwich up to the next level.

The door opened, and my mood went from almost pleasant to absolutely irritated. Vincent walked in.

"Took me forever to find you," he said. I didn't reply. I was always in the same place. So he couldn't have tried very hard. Unless he was under the impression that I traveled between stairwells. You'd think it would have been the first place he looked. Unless, of course, I was just wrong about how much he paid attention to me. Which was probably more accurate, but I was still mad, just on principle.

"I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry for what I did. I know that you felt humiliated, and I made it a thousand times worse," he said.

"You could say that," I muttered as I readjusted the top layer of bread on my soggy sandwich.

"I didn't mean to do it. It just—came at the wrong time. I should have asked you. I know you would have said no. I just—really messed up."

"Just go, Vincent. You don't need to explain anything to me. You belong to Paige. It's not like you owe me anything."

"I don't belong to anyone, Piper. And I do owe you one hell of an apology." He sighed like he was tired. He was just leaning against the wall now, but he dropped his head back onto it and gazed up at the stairs above. "I was going to break up with her." I squished the bread down onto my sandwich. I was now crossing over from irritated to angry again. I wanted him to go away.

"Well, so much for that." He stuck his hands in his pockets.

"We've broken up twice. We just always end up back together. I don't love her anymore, and I know she doesn't love me. It's been that way for a while now. It's more like—neither of us knows how to be alone. We don't want to have to start over, you know? We've been together for so long that it just feels easier to stick with it than try."

"Why did you kiss me, Vincent?"

"Because I didn't want you to keep beating yourself up. You always talk about how no one likes you or how no one will ever want to kiss you. And I wanted you to know you were wrong. But I knew you wouldn't believe it unless I proved it. It wasn't supposed to happen like that, and I definitely should have thought it out better. I was planning on coming back out to talk to you once you'd cooled off." I took a bite of my sandwich and chewed. He waited patiently for me to finish.

"Why didn't you?" I asked. He sighed again and reached up to rub his eyes. He definitely looked tired. Not just physically exhausted but emotionally too. Like he was also spending his nights crying in his room, and he just didn't have Paige's impressive makeup skills to cover it.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

"Then don't." He stood there and watched me ignore him. I ate my lunch and flipped through my English book, not really interested in him anymore. I wanted to show him that I didn't care what he had to say. But then I could hear him hesitate. Thinking of his words. He wasn't going to let this go quietly.

"Paige is um—she's pregnant." I dropped my English book on the floor. It made a loud "thwack" sound as it fell page open onto my sandwich.

"What?"

"Don't tell anyone I told you. Especially Paige. That's why she didn't want to go to the party. That's why she asked me to come over. That's why we didn't get to talk." I took a moment to process this information.

"I—what?"

He shrugged again, and I could tell he was doing his best to hold it together. It was just like my mom said. He just needed someone to talk to. And he'd chosen to share this information with me because he trusted me. But he was upset, and I was the only person who would listen. I wanted to tell him everything was going to be okay. But it probably wouldn't be. My parents were going to murder him. If his didn't kill him first.

"I don't know—what the fuck I'm going to do," he said. His voice cracked and all the anger I felt suddenly vanished. Now I just felt sorry for him. There I was feeling angry about a stupid kiss, and he was dealing with the fact that his girlfriend, who he admittedly didn't love, was pregnant.

They were only seventeen.

"I—have you guys talked about it?" I wondered.

"A little bit. We still haven't decided what we're going to do. I'm—the most terrified I've ever been in my entire life."

"Why did you tell me this?"

"Because I trust you. I knew you'd listen, and you won't tell anyone if I ask you not to. So please don't tell anyone." I reached down to pick up my English book off the floor. Mayonnaise had splattered all over the inside pages. I didn't have time to clean it up.

"I won't tell anyone," I said. Then I took my stuff and headed up the stairs. He didn't follow me.t?”

“Because I didn’t want you to keep beating yourself up. You always talk about how no one likes you or that no one will ever want to kiss you. I just wanted you to know that you’re wrong. It wasn’t supposed to happen the way that it did. I was planning on coming back out to talk to you.” I took a bite of my sandwich and chewed. He waited patiently for me to finish.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked him. He sighed.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone,” he said.

“Then don’t.” He stood back against the wall for a while and just watched me ignore him. I ate my lunch and flipped through my English book, not really interested. I just wanted to show him that I didn’t care what he had to say. But then he finally spoke. He hesitated but got the words out either way.

“She um—she’s pregnant.” I dropped my sandwich on the floor with a splat and finally looked up at him.

“She what?” I asked.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you. Especially her. That’s why she didn’t want to go to the party. That’s why she wanted me to come over. That’s why we didn’t get to talk like I planned.” I took a moment to answer.

“I—what?”

He shrugged again and I could tell he was doing his best to hold his composure. He was just like I was. He just needed someone to talk to. He was upset and I was the only person who would really listen. I wanted to jump up and hug him and tell him everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t be. My parents were going to murder him. His parents were going to murder him.

“I don’t know—what the fuck I’m going to do,” he said. His voice cracked and all the anger I felt for him was washed away. Now I just pitied him. He was a walking dead man. There I was feeling sorry for myself over a stupid kiss and he was dealing with a pregnant girlfriend.

“I—have you guys talked about it?” I asked him.

“A bit. We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do. I’m—the most terrified I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you. And I knew you’d listen. But you can’t tell anyone that you know.” I put my book in my backpack and abandoned my sandwich.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said. Then I headed up the stairs. He didn’t follow me.