Eden texted me the next day.

The sun had just risen, and I was laying in bed with Santana on my chest when my phone rang, a new number flashing across the screen.

"Ignore it," Santana whispered, sliding her hand beneath the band of my boxers. She was grinning, wickedly, resorting to old tactics to get me to spend the day in bed with her. Which, if I'm being honest, was working.

Reluctantly, I sat up and pushed her hand away with whatever slim shred of dignity I had left these days.

"Truman?" she asked, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Who is it, baby?" Her tongue touched my neck. I felt myself slipping.

"My mom," I lied. That was enough to kill the mood. Santana fell back on the bed and I read Eden's message.

Hey, it's me. Class got cancelled. Pick me up on campus? Then, I'm only sending you this because I have nothing better to do, btw.

A grin split across my face, and I ducked into the bathroom before Santana could see.

"Where are you going?" she called.

I turned on the hot water and stepped into the tub. "Hospital!" Lying had become so easy, it was almost comical.

By the time I was dressed and out the door, Santana had fallen back asleep. I stood there for a minute, watching her, and wondered why we were even together. I didn't love her. She didn't love me. And it wasn't just for sex, either. I think it was familiar, the two of us. We naturally gravitated back to each other because it was easy. We had a past and a present. The future was iffy, but the company she brought was nice.

She most definitely deserved better than me—most people did. But for some reason, she put up with my shit. Sure, she complained about the smoking and the drinking, trying to get me to stop both to no avail. My mind just kept going back to how she was there for me when Katie got into the accident. Even after we broke up and I was away at college, she called every night to make sure I was all right. It was more than most people did.

She never gave up on me. Even when I deserved it and God, did I ever.

That's probably why I felt a pang of guilt buried deep in my chest as I walked out the door and headed to my car. It was stupid, owning a car in the city. But somedays I didn't want to be around people, and subways and buses were full of them.

I pulled up in front of Eden's campus and parked, waiting. For a second I missed school. The idea of always having somewhere to be, something to do. It gave me a weird sense of purpose but my head wasn't in it. I could barely find it in me to care about the future when Katie lost hers.

And going away to a college out-of-province after Katie's accident may have been the shittiest idea I've ever had. I thought getting away would be good for me, but turns out distance isn't exactly a great remedy for guilt.

A knock on the window had me gazing out to find Eden there, backpack slung across her shoulder. Her dark hair framed her face, and I could barely see her eyes. I opened the door and she sat down with a huff, throwing her bag at her feet.

"I don't understand why you drive in this city." I couldn't help it, I laughed. "What?" she glanced at me, crossing her arms.

"Nothing," I said. "Just thought you might say that."

"Can we leave?" she snapped.

"Not until your seatbelt is on." She rolled her eyes and snapped it in before resting on the seat. I peeled my eyes off her and drove. "You're in a shit mood," I commented.

Eden rolled down the window and I could see her hair blowing around her face from the corner of my eye. Maybe it was the wind, or maybe I had completely fucking lost it, but I realized then that her hair smelt like peaches.

Her voice caught me off guard. "I don't exactly enjoy waking up at the crack of fucking dawn to get to class and find out it was cancelled," she said.

"So that's why you texted me. Huh."

"What?"

"You were having a bad day, and you knew I could make it better." I flashed her a grin. I could see her temper rising. "I won't let you down, little devil."

"First of all, don't call me that. Second, that's not why I texted you, Tru."

"Mhm."

"Truman!" She turned down the radio and shoved my shoulder. I chuckled. "I mean it. Okay? This isn't about you. Or us, whatever. It's about Katie."

That's what we kept telling ourselves: that this was about Katie. I wondered who would be the first to admit it was a lie.

Eden sighed and turned back to the window. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

___

I held Eden's hand and tugged her into the diner, ignoring the way her fingers tensed under mine. I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to that. I nodded towards a booth in the corner and gave her shoulders a gentle push.

"Sit," I told her. She walked to the table closest to us and I grabbed her shoulders again. "No. That one." I pointed again to the corner. She gave me a look before walking towards the correct table.

I waited in line to order for us. Dark chocolate cake and two strawberry milkshakes, extra cherries. I didn't know if Eden would like that, but it didn't matter. She wanted today to be about Katie, so it would be.

I watched her face scrunch up as I set the food down. "Strawberry?" she asked, toying with the straw. I rolled my eyes and took a sip, grimacing at the taste. "Why are you making us drink things we both hate?"

Grabbing a fork, I took a bite of the cake and watched as she sucked on the cherry between her teeth. "It's, ugh. . ." I looked away from her mouth. "Strawberry's Katie's favourite," I clarified, "so is the cake."

At that, she smiled and took another sip, not wincing this time. "I never knew that," she said. Eden leaned back in the booth, eyes never leaving mine. "Is this her favourite booth, too?"

I nodded. "When she was a kid, we'd come here every year on her birthday. She'd only sit in this booth, drink that milkshake and eat that cake."

"And what about you?" she asked.

"It tastes like shit, but I ate it anyway," I admitted with a laugh.

I watched Eden watch me. Her eyes traveled down my face, then back up to mine, like she could see something that no one else could. It was slightly terrifying. I wanted to see into her head, to know every thought that walked across. Mostly the ones about me.

"What?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I like this version of you, that's all." I watched her take a bite of the cake.

"There's only one version of me, Eden."

"Nope," she said as she chewed. "There's lots. You're a combination of many things, Truman."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, leaning forward. "Do tell."

"Well," she began, licking her lips. I tore my eyes way from her mouth. "For one, you're a bit of an asshole sometimes. God, don't look so surprised. You know it's the truth."

I picked a cherry off the milkshake and tossed it at her. It landed on her lap and she picked it up, grinning as she ate it.

"Or," she continued, "sometimes you're. . . gentle. Like when you talk about Katie, or when you spend the night at the hospital with her."

"How do you know about that?"

She shrugged, smiling smugly. "Your mom told me."

I groaned, making a mental note to stop that from happening. "You said a combination of many things," I reminded her. "That's only two."

"That's because, for most of the time, I don't know who you are, Truman. Sometimes you're the guy that kissed me that night in the darkness. Other times you look at me like you don't even know me. But most of the time? You're far away. I can't seem to understand you at all."

Funny. I thought the same thing about her.

"What if I'm all three at once?" I asked, licking the rim of the glass. I watched her gaze follow my mouth, and my heart did something stupid in my chest.

"I hope not," she said, eyes lifting back up to mine.

"Why?"

"Because then I may actually like you."

I don't know what caught me more off guard, her words or the voice in my head that told me to move across the table and just fucking kiss her because what the hell does it all matter anyway?

"Truman?" Eden asked. She was rubbing circles into the side of her glass. I noticed she wouldn't look at me, which meant she was either nervous or about to say something she knew she shouldn't. I suspected both.

"Yeah?"

"Do you—" She stopped speaking suddenly, eyes growing wide. "Shit," she breathed. "Shit shit shit shit shit."

Eden was halfway under the table before I could even speak. "Eden?" I asked, peering beneath the booth. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Act normal!" she hissed. Right, she was being the normal one here.

I rolled my eyes as a guy approached our table, sliding into the booth in front of me. There was something familiar about his mohawk and the piercings covering his face.

"And you are?" I asked.

He shovelled the rest of the cake into his mouth before reaching under the table and tugging Eden up by her shoulders. She slumped against the seat, looking like a little kid who had been caught.

The guy drank the rest of the milkshake before answering.

"I'm her boyfriend," he said.

_______________________

hello cuties! thoughts on

who this mohawk-dude is?