T h i r t e e n-2

Well, that's because you had me... You always had me. "Yeah, you're right, things do change," he nods. "But people don't. People rarely change Christian. You should know that." I stare at him a long time, during which the barmaid brings my wine, smiling at us both before retreating. For some reason I decide first to take a sip of Charlie's favourite beer. Blue Moon also hadn't changed. Still sweet and fruity. Thick almost. It reminded me of her. Though it wasn't an enjoyable drink for me, I'd always appreciated it's unique taste and for years I couldn't even see the bottle without feeling a pang of something like loss. "She's leaving for London in a week," I say as I slide the Blue Moon to the side and pull the wine closer. "What do you mean?" "She got a job offer; The Tate." I say glancing up at him. "Fuck, really? That was her dream job," he nods looking impressed. "Yeah. That guy from Harvard who used to follow her around. The English one. He flew over and convinced her to take it." My grip tightens around my glass. "Ashton is still following her around? That little shit," He levels his stare at me. "Still, she'd stay if she had reason to I guess." "She asked me not to ask her to stay, Gideon. Begged me not to actually." Gideon smiles. Smirks rather. "What?" I ask him. "Do you actually know anything about women Christian? Anything at all?" "I've never had any complaints," I tell him. "Good for you," he retorts. "I mean emotionally. What they want. What they need. Out of the bedroom." "Sorry, when did you become the expert exactly?" I deflect. "Oh, I'm not. Not by a long shot. But I have a little experience. More than you clearly. But you are right about one thing; I do know Charlie better than you." He says sipping his beer. "Well, if you could enlighten me that would be much appreciated," I grumble as I lift my glass to my mouth. He sighs and slouches back in his chair. "Want to know about the day she told me she was in love with you?" I shift awkwardly, suddenly unable to find a comfortable position. "I'm not sure. Do I?" He smiles again. "She came back from Aspen that summer and ripped my heart out. I don't imagine it will be any worse for you to hear than it was for me." I nod, guiltily. "Guess not. Go on then." He smiles at me and nods once. "I'd missed her so much. I felt like some part of me was missing - a hand or something. I hadn't told her I loved her; I mean we'd never said it to each other. I was too young to be in love. But I knew something was happening because I didn't even look at another girl the whole time I'd been with her. Since I'd met her it never even occurred to me that I wanted anyone else. For me, that was something new," he scratches his head, runs a hand over his mouth. "Anyway, that's all I'd thought about that whole summer we were apart. I should have said it before she went. I should have told her I loved her before. I guess that night with all of us," he looks up at me, "was me trying to show her how I felt. Show her that I was a grown up, that I wanted whatever she wanted. I don't know. Anyway, I planned on telling her the second I saw her after school started again. They were going to be the first words out of my mouth. The idea of her meeting someone else she wanted more than me while she was away was torture," He looks down at his bottle, picking away at the label before looking up at me again. "Turns out she'd already met him." "Gideon nothing ever happened with us until th —," I start but he holds his hand up. "I know that," He says nodding. "I didn't then, but I do now. You were as clueless as me," he smiles woefully. "Anyway when I saw her that day after she got back, when I saw the look on her face, I knew that I'd never get to say it. I knew she was ending it. I knew she didn't feel the same." "She said she was ending it because of me?" I ask quietly, my heart hammering in my chest now. He shakes his head. "No. But when I asked her why, she said she was in love with someone else. That she had been for a while and that it was unfair to me. She didn't want to do it anymore. I asked her who it was but she wouldn't say. She said it didn't matter because he didn't feel the same. But I wouldn't let it go. I went on and on... Shouting, accusing her of fucking everything that moved on campus and off." He scrubs his hand over his face. "I'm not proud of some of the things I said to her that day," he shakes his head and looks down, regret and guilt flooding his face. "But she said she'd never been with anyone else while we were together. Not 'without my knowing and being present.' I think were her words. That's when it hit me. I swear it was like a fucking bell ringing or a door opening. Everything made sense; you two that night, you leaving, the way she always was with you." He sips his beer and nods as I look down away from his eyes again. "When I asked if it was you, she said yes. She was crying." He looks sad. The image of her in tears also pulls at something inside me.