I don’t answer.
I stare back.
Silence makes people stupid.
They start confessing. Explaining.
Telling on themselves.
And I know if I stand here long enough?—
let the silence get awkward?—
someone’s bound to fill it.
Usually with shit they shouldn’t say.
So the silence keeps stretching.
And stretching.
His eyes bounce between mine.
Another second goes by.
Then—
“Allison. If you walk in, it’ll stir shit.”
Psh. Idiot fell for it.
My heart and brain high-five,
then immediately start fighting again.
He keeps going, Jersey boy mode, pointing behind him. “Those walls remember everything, shit I ain’t proud of, and I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m still that guy. I don’t want you in there. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt. And I sure as fuck don’t wanna lose you over bullshit that meant nothin’.”
Silence drops between us again.
Both of his hands stay lifted, surrendered,
hanging for whatever I decide to give—or not.
I smile the sweet kind that rises just before blood splashes the floor. “Yeah, nah. I’m good. Appreciate the concern.”
I fold up the papers
and shove them into my bag.
“But I’m goin’ inside.” I shrug. “Watch my fuckin’ boyfffr—uck—in…”
I freeze.
Statue-still with my hand in my purse.
His eyes lock on me, wide—half-shook.
My eyes lock on him, wide—whole-screwed.
