Mess To Be Made

40

"Ladies first."

"I didn't know you had manners."

He glared at me. That's more like it. "Just go."

It should've felt like déjà vu—both of us sitting on the carpet of my bedroom floor, directly across from each other with a bottle of liquor that I stole from my mom's liquor cabinet planted between us. It didn't though.

Maybe because things were so different back then. The Tyler and Allie sitting in this same spot back in December seemed like caricatures.

Then, I was bold and insensitive, and he was rude and reserved.

But now? We inhabited the same bodies, wore the same faces, held the same gazes—yet we'd changed.

Change can be good.

Cory once said this to me and most of the time I wasn't convinced that was true. But I couldn't deny that without all the change over the past 2 months, there was a good chance I wouldn't be here now, in my room, with Tyler, navigating emotions that I hadn't experienced in, well, years.

I felt more content now than I ever did then. Which was odd, because the Allie sitting in this same spot in December had the world in the palm of her hand.

I knew it too, at the time. I just didn't know how quickly I could lose it, leaving my palm outstretched and empty until I had no choice but to accept defeat and close my fingers into a fist.

And yes, maybe my palm closed. But my eyes opened.

"Allie?"

Tyler features were slightly scrunched in concern as I blinked quickly and my face flushed. I had been completely zoning out, staring at him like a creep, I'm sure. I rolled my shoulders back, trying to seem unfazed. What were we talking about?

I was going first. Right.

After pondering for a moment, I decided to start the game off light. "Your favorite TV show is Friends."

Tyler tilted his head ever so slightly at this, clearly a little confused. It was random, but I'm sure it was especially out of left field seeing as the last time we played this game my first statement was that he was a virgin.

He nodded towards the vodka, while curiosity replaced his confusion. "Drink. Why do you say that?"

I took a swig, reveling in the burn before taking a small sip of cranberry juice Tyler got for us from the fridge while I raided the liquor cabinet.

Unlike last time, I didn't pretend to not want it.

"Do you want chaser?" Tyler asked sharply as he stood.

"No, I don't need it."

He came back in with two cans of Sprite, setting one next to me on the floor.

I felt warm, like someone had wrapped me in a blanket, and it took all my willpower to suppress a real smile that wanted to run across my lips.

He got me a can of Sprite. He thought about me.

I shook my head slightly at the memory now. Who would've thought I'd ever feel touched by a soda, and later brought to tears because of a couch. But it happened.

He happened. And I was too far gone to try to stop it.

I'm so fucked.

I blinked hard again and stared down at my fingers. No shot I could look at him and keep it together when so many uncontrollable thoughts were swirling through my mind. With a half shrug and surprisingly clear voice, I explained, "When I took a nap on your couch that one day, you were watching it when I woke up."