The Love Hack

Arty

I was in disbelief until I heard the soft click of Ben's bedroom door fitting into the latch.

Surely he wasn't about to just go to sleep? After all of that?

Okay, so maybe I had said goodnight first but I didn't expect him to actually let me go. I'd even left my door open, which was practically an internationally recognized sign that I wanted him to come bother me.

The thought of going to bed now, pretending like we hadn't just imploded our entire existence, was insane to me. I had about a million questions and exactly no answers.

I peered out from my room, staring at Ben's white panelled door as if it had personally betrayed me.

The only thing I knew for sure, was that Ben had feelings for me, and I had feelings for him. What did any of that mean? Did that make us boyfriends? Roommates with benefits?

I flopped onto my bed, staring into the darkness as if it was going to tell me the answers.

Just try to sleep, I reasoned with myself. I reluctantly closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing.

I should have known what I was getting myself into. This was such a typical Ben move, to pour everything out in the open and then run away. I turned over to my side.

My mind wouldn't shut up– replaying the way Ben looked when he stood up from the couch like a child that was caught in the act. The anxiety practically seeped from his pores. And then moments later the definitiveness at which he concluded we would figure this out.

The more I replayed the scene, the less it was adding up. How could he be so scared, then sure about us figuring this out and then simply go to bed, completely unaffected.

I huffed, turning over again.

I envied Ben's ability to compartmentalize his emotions. I'd always just been a walking mess of feelings, everything plainly written on my face. The thought immediately brought a pang of guilt, because I knew the only reason Ben was so good at compartmentalizing was because he had to, how else would you survive the death of your father and having to take care of your teenage brother.

I groaned, shoving the side of my face into the pillow and trying to turn again, but finding my legs wrapped in the blankets as if they were trying to hold me steady.

Maybe I was just adding unnecessary complications to Ben's life. I mean, he clearly had enough to deal with without adding me into the mix. I wanted to believe I could help him, and we could do it together. But I knew I was just another task on his to-do list everyday. Pay the bills. Pick up Jonah from soccer practice. Cook dinner. Deal with Arty's feelings.

Maybe the best thing I could have done for Ben was to just leave him alone. The thought made my heart tighten in my chest. I wanted to be a partner, someone Ben could rely on, who made his life better. Not just an additional stress in his already complicated life.

I ran a hand over my face. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe I wasn't thinking enough. But the fact of the matter was, I definitely couldn't sleep.

I felt like I'd been tossing, tortured by my own thoughts for hours, when in reality it had been little more than a half hour.

Finally defeated, I threw myself up from bed. The house was dead quiet as I made my way into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight in the bathroom. I paused outside of Ben's door, lightly treading closer to check for any signs of life.

Was he awake? Was he lying there, thinking about all of this too? Or had he already decided that I wasn't worth the trouble?

My hand hovered over the door knob, itching to open it. To force him to tell me everything he was thinking.