Page 70 of Collision

At the end of the night, I took my leftovers out of the car and waved to Shelly.

“Looks like you have a visitor,” she pointed.

I turned around to see Chase sitting on my top step. He stood as I started up the stairs, holding a plate wrapped in foil. My heart was racing as acid sloshed into my stomach. I was excited, yet nervous.

“You brought peace pie, too.”

“What’s peace pie?” he asked, a slight hint of a smile on his face.

I handed him the small container filled with Betty’s pumpkin pie. “Apparently pie is a sign that you come in peace. If only the Pilgrims had known that.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

He followed me inside and perched himself on the armrest of the couch, his leg shaking restlessly. He held up the foil covered plate. “Truce?”

“That depends on how good this pie is.”

He grinned.

My heart didn’t merely skip a beat – it pole-vaulted out of my chest. I didn’t realize just how much I missed seeing his smile. It was a sign that all would be okay. I took the plate from him, and grabbed a fork from the kitchen drawer. I sat on the recliner and uncovered the plate. On it was a slice of blueberry pie.

“Did your mom make this?”

He nodded. “Khloe helped. She wanted me to bring you a slice.”

“At least one of the Brooks siblings still cares about me.” I shoved a huge bite of pie into my mouth.

“This sibling still cares about you, too.”

I took my time chewing, in the hopes that he would keep talking. I was unsure of how to navigate this conversation. After what transpired the last time we spoke, I was afraid of saying anything at all.

“I know you don’t like apologies, so I’m not sure how else to say this… but I am sorry for blowing up on you. I just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t like what you said.”

I nodded.

“I know you said that it came out wrong, and you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t,” I said, with pie still smooshed in my mouth.

“It didn’t feel good to hear that you only let me into your life because you heard my father was sick and you felt bad. It hurt to hear that you looked at me as a job. Isn’t that exactly how you felt, thinking everyone felt bad for you and did things for you out of pity?”

I placed the dish down on the coffee table in front of me. “You’re right. I never thought of it that way.”

“You don’t think of things in any way except your own. You hold onto your convictions so tightly, that you can’t see any other possibilities out there except for the one you’ve conjured up in your head. It’s really frustrating.”

“I’m sorry that I’m so frustrating to you.”

“You are unbelievably frustrating!” He stood and walked towards me. “You’re obstinate and passive-aggressive. You’re rude.”

“I am not rude!” I stood to meet him in the middle of the living room.

“You are to me!”

“Well, I am so sorry that you have had to put up with me for all this time. Did you come here just to tell me what a horrible person I am?”

“I did, actually. I came here to tell you what an asshole you have been to me. You push me away, then you pull me back in. You think your sarcasm covers up your feelings, but it doesn’t. You wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face. I know who you are, and despite all of that, I am standing here madly in love with you. I just wish you could admit that you love me back.”

My jaw could have been scraped off the floor with a shovel, like in one of those old cartoons. “You can’t stand me, but you love me? How am I even supposed to take all of that?”

“I’m in love with you, Merritt.” He took my face into his hands. “I’m crazy about you. All I want is for you to say you feel the same way.”

---