she writes — you read.

set in august ’07 | drabble: impulsive | word count: 2,200+

“Because I mean, Graduation is going to be fucking, uh-mazing.” I’m packing and she’s rocking back and forth, eyeing me warily but calm enough not to jump on me. I don’t want her to. It’s not going to make this better.

“You only heard two songs, and you’re stanning?” I looked over my shoulder as she winked, and I watched her laugh and nod, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she configured her new iPhone.

“So um, are you… going to see her at the airport?” Her voice is curious, pensive. I nod. She glances back into her phone.

I try not to give into her false attempts at not being pressed about this. She’s been spiraling over and over again like a great cycle of isolation, because she knows after this shred of time together I will go spend hours with Robyn.

“Probably.” I stop packing, wondering how are we supposed to separate when she barely wants me to touch her anymore, and that’s my fault in its entirety.

I glance up at the TV, and Umbrella is on again. Out of habit, I instantly look at Kacie. There’s always an air of tension when Robyn is involved now, and I still don’t know how she got through that night in California to end up here, like this, insecure and irritated.

It’s almost like she’s under a spell. Her breath gets short and her chest gets tight. Sometimes, her inhaler comes out, but she doesn’t look away. I don’t get it, but I leave her alone. I don’t want her snapping on me, for whatever reason.

“You gon be alright?” I ask when the video is over, but she’s still sitting there in this weird, disconcerted state. She once claimed us to be synchronized, but right now, I don’t know what she’s thinking.

She whispers a gentle lie, trying not to let it catch in her throat, and I can tell she’s struggling to blow whatever’s gotten to her off.

“I’m good.”

This is it: the beginning of the end. I can feel the kick I‘m going to want to give my ass in the future, but I don’t stop myself.

Continue reading →