Page 56 of Fight or Flight
“Do you want to stare at me some more? Or would you prefer to let me in?”
I blink at her, confused, before jumping to action.
“Please, come in. I...” I shake my head and move to the side, allowing her to move past me.
“Nice place,” she says, eyeing the living room. Her tone isn’t sarcastic, but I still feel my face getting red.
I rush to get my dirty clothes off the couch so she has a place to sit and then start collecting trash in a haze as I babble nervously.
“Sorry about the mess. I didn’t expect any guests to come over. Not that I am not happy to see you here. I am. Very... Happy, I mean. To see you? I don’t want you to think that we’re living here like pigs or something. Normally, I clean regularly, but I’ve been so busy with the project for Jenny and Brody that I...”
Claire giggles and takes a seat. “Aidan, it’s fine. I’m sure you saw the war zone effect I had on Jenny’s house. I wish I could say it’s Henry making all that mess, but...” She shrugs and then looks at me expectantly.
“Um. Okay, then. Let me just put those away and...” I lift my hands full of jumbled clothes and empty candy wrappers and then turn on my heel, cursing myself in my mind all the way to my room.
Why so fucking awkward, dude? Get it together. She’s here, and she’s not cursing me out for everything I’ve done anymore, so this is a good sign, right? This can be it. Don’t fuck it up.
I enter my bedroom, which doesn’t look any better than the living room, and wince. The walls are full of my drawings, half of them a strange mosaic of Claire’s features, with the other half presenting a frozen frame of memory also starring Claire. I would die of embarrassment if she ever saw it, so I quickly drop the clothes on the bed, not caring about the plastic wrappers entangled in them, and turn to get out and close the door before she has a chance to see into the room and realize just how obsessed I’ve been with her over the years.
But of course, I should know better than to trust that her curiosity and impatience won’t make her go after me.
“Is this your room?” I hear before her head appears in the doorway.
I try to block her view with my body. “Yeah. Sorry, but it’s really messy in here. If we could just go back to the living-”
I hear her sharp intake of breath before she asks. “Is that me?”
Hanging my head in defeat, I move to the side when she gently pushes me and walks to the wall to inspect the creepy makeshift shrine that Tommy never fails to bring up and tease me about whenever we end up talking about my failed relationship with Claire.
“Um, it’s not what you think,” I say lamely and rub at my face.
“I think... it’s beautiful, Aidan,” she says softly after a pause. “When did you make all this? I don’t remember you making these when we were together.”
I take a deep breath to steady myself and face her. “They’re from my time in prison. I’ve got lots of spare time, so...”
Her hand lifts to trail a finger down the curvy line of her upper lip in one of the drawings. “I always loved your art, Aidan. But this is incredible. I can see you’ve gotten even better with time.”
“As I’ve said. Lots of time to practice. And lots of time to regret the things that I did wrong. Also, plenty of time to fantasize about how things could have been if I wasn’t a complete spineless, cowardly moron.” I can’t stop the last words from landing from my mouth, and they make Claire turn around to look at me sharply.
“Isn’t it the worst feeling in the world to be the villain of your own story?” She asks wistfully.
“You have no idea,” I reply, feeling slightly defeated.
“I just might,” she smiles at me sadly. With one last look at my drawings, she leaves my room.
I step into the living room after her, apprehension causing me to hesitate. The mood has visibly shifted now, and I can tell that whatever she came here for, she’s ready to get down to it. And it scares me beyond reason.
“So, uh, how did you know where I live?” I ask when she doesn’t immediately start talking.
“I asked Brody,” she answers simply and eyes me with a serious expression.
I try not to fidget under her scrutiny and stand ramrod straight as if I were in front of a judge, not daring to even breathe.
A small smile painted on her face. “You look like you’re waiting for a sentence,” she jokes, clearly reading my mind.
“Aren’t I, though? In a way?”
Claire hums in her throat. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the past and everything that happened. But I was also thinking about the future, which is kind of new for me. I stopped considering having one years ago.”