Talent Seth David-Andrew

At the Door

By Seth David-Andrew | 2007

Emerson kept the lights on as long as he could stand it, but they put pressure on him. He turned them off and sat back in the chair in the corner and set his arms on the high armrests.

A knock rang out through the apartment.
He didn't answer.

The door clicked and opened, and the sound of the rain outside sharpened as it swung inward.

"Emerson?"
"What." he responds quickly.

"Where did you go?"
"Walked around a bit." he replied.
The girl rubbed her eyebrow to try and soothe her frustration and worry.

"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. So what the fuck, Emerson."

Emerson looked up at the shadowed sillhouette in the door.

"Talk shit, get hit." he smiled innapropriately as he pinched his lower lip mindlessly.
"He's in the hospital."
"Good."

Emerson's knuckles were torn up. His knee was bruised, and it hurt to breathe too deeply. She had never seen him get in a fight once.

"You're acting like this was a bad thing." he said.
"You-put-him-in-the-hospital." she shot back again, this time more forcefully.
"Whatever." Emerson looked away and kept playing with his split lip.

There was a pause.
"Anyways, I wanted to find you and tell you I don't think we're going to work out."
Emerson looked back at her quickly. Upon eye contact she immediately looked down.

"I'm sorry, it just doesn't--"
"You're breaking up with me over this?" he said.
She nodded, continuing to look down.

The pressure that the lights had given off was back.
"I don't get it."
"You don't have to." she said, emotion lathered on her sentence.

He stood up and started to speak, then stopped and put his hands behind his head, pacing the room.

"I'm sorry."
"Yeah." he responded in a distant voice.
The room was shades of gray, and it still smelled new. They hadn't even unpacked all of their things yet.

"Also, that kid has a lot of big friends, and they're probably looking--" her sentence was cut short by a car door slamming in the parking lot. She leaned out the door and looked.

"Is it them?" he asked, uninterested.
She waited for a minute to keep looking before she said, "No."

"Can I at least sleep here for the night?" he looked up at her finally.

"No."

He laughed a defeated laugh.
"Okay." he said.

And picked up his cell phone as his keys.
"When are you going to pick up your stuff?" she asked.

"Keep it. You're taking everything else anyways." he said angrily as he passed her for the door.

She tried to reach out to him, but he recoiled and grabbed her by the forearm.

"Don't fuckin touch me."

She started to say something, but her sobs drowned it out.
And he shut the door behind him.