Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Mixed Tape
Cassandra beat Peter to her house, which was probably the best, because then, she had the option of not opening the door. After 4 and a half months, she knew without a doubt that it was too soon to face him. It's all going to come up again. It wasn't her fault, and she knew that, but it was going to come up, just the same, and he was going to blame her for her keen ability to ignore everything around her. Mostly only things that were bothering her, though. It was her gift. Maybe her curse, too.
Cassandra ran around the house, keeping her hands busy, and her mind as well. If Peter didn't come, she wouldn't be too bothered...would she? She didn't have much time to ponder the thought, because the doorbell rang.
"Great." She muttered as she walked slowly to the door. She placed her hand on the knob, and stopped. She didn't have to do this. She could walk away. Pretend she wasn't home. It probably wouldn't be so convincing due to the fact that her car was in the driveway, but nonetheless, nothing was making her do this. Before she could turn around and walk away, though, her instincts kicked in and the door was open. Her breathing stopped.
"Cass." He looked the same. The brown eyes. His hair was of course darker now, but it was still the same Peter. The one who had taught her to play soccer. Those were the same lips she'd busted 19 years ago, but they weren't smiling like they'd typically be. They were nervous. His whole demeanor was nervous. Not as nervous as hers.
"Hey, Peter. Come in. It's cold." She shut the door behind them, and went into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" He said as she went around the corner. She looked back.
"Coffee?" He shook his head.
"I just want to talk to you." She pushed her hair behind her ears and walked back into the living room.
"You don't look the same." She frowned.
"Neither do you, Peter. Your hair is...longer, or something."
"That's not what I mean, Cass. You've lost weight. You look sad." She laughed a high, false laugh. How could he be here saying this? He had no idea what to base these assumptions on. Okay, so she had lost weight, but was she really sad? Well, yes, but, really, how could Peter tell?
"I'm not sad. I'm fine. I've been busy. You don't necessarily look like this is your favorite day either."
"Cass, I'm sure you have a good idea of how I feel right now. And I'm sure you know why I came here." She shuddered. This was not a conversation she was ready to have.
"Just get it over with." He looked at her.
"If you want me to leave, just say it. I'm not going to sit here and waste fucking time. Yours or mine." She hadn't heard him angry in a long time. And even when they were always together, his anger towards her was rare. It seemed to always surprise her.
"Fuck you. I didn't ask you to come. I'm still trying to figure out how my front fucking door ever opened. If I had a choice, you'd still be standing on the other side of it. Apparently my subconscious is a bitch, though, because here you are, and we're not resolving anything." She was angry too.
"What the hell, Cass. 6 months ago, this shit never would have existed between us. We never used to fight like this, and now it's a common occurrence every time we see each other. Why?" Cassandra just looked at him.
"Why do you think, Peter?" He looked down, and sighed.
"I said I was sorry. Okay? Damnit, what fucking more do you want. I can't do anything else. You want me to erase the past? Change history? Sorry. I'm just a guy." She laughed again.
"You could try being around. I know for a fact that sometimes, when you come to the city, you go to great lengths to make sure our paths don't cross. I'm sure, had our parents not been the best of friends, I'd never know. But of course, your dad calls my dad, and I'm left sick and fucking tired of not having you around. Actions speak louder than words, so stop saying you're sorry." Cassandra got up and went into the kitchen. Who the fuck cared if he didn't need coffee? She did, and that was her greatest concern.
"I don't really have anything to say to that. It's true. And even though you don't want to hear it, I'm still sorry. I'm sorry about everything. I wish I could change it, but we're adults. We know I can't. I don't talk to her anymore. I don't give a fuck about her. Just you, Cass, and I've stopped thinking about her, even, just so I could get back to where I was with you." Cassandra laughed, once again, from the kitchen. This was the most ironic conversation she'd ever been a part of.
"Peter, be honest with yourself. That level of friendship is dead. It's not possible with us anymore. Had I not caught you fucking the girl I hated most, we'd probably be together right now. We'd probably be doing all of that 'happily ever after' shit, but no. You blew it, and-"
"You could have fucking talked to me about it. Holy shit, Cass. What the hell was I supposed to say when you wouldn't even listen to me? You completely ignored that fact that I was...alive, and now we're here, more distanced than we've ever been, and we're in the same fucking room. I've been trying to get your forgiveness for months, and if I fail again, I may quit trying." Cassandra stopped. She put her coffee down, and rested her face in her hands against the counter. She knew she wasn't ready for this. There was one solution. Starting over. She approached him, crying, and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, in front of him.
"It would be stupid of me to put every ounce of faith I have, in you. I think you understand that. But what would be even more ridiculous, is forgetting we'd even been friends. Yeah, we were practically engaged, and yeah, I loved you more than I'll ever love anyone, and of course, you cheated on me. I spend all of my time taking those things into consideration, and I try to figure out a solution or a way to forget you, and every time, I come to the same place. We need to start over. Not back to childhood, or back to being stupid teenagers, or straight into a relationship again, all which I'm sure you'd figured. I want to be your friend. I want to have a foundation consisting only of friendship with you. I hope that's okay. I'm going to try. But so fucking help me, if you don't I quit, and we're back at square one." He stood up to leave, no expression on his face.
"You never finished the tape." She looked at him. Why wasn't he telling her how he felt?
"What?"
"Of course, I want your friendship, but first, I want you to finish the tape. Then, I'll expect a phone call. The tape is a map, Cass, it's supposed to lead you back to....." He put his hands up, not knowing what to say. "Just listen to the tape. Then, we'll talk. About whatever you want. Have a good evening." He opened the front door, and left, with Cassandra sitting in the middle of her living room floor. She lay down on her back, and stared at the ceiling.
"Tape it is."
Cassandra ran around the house, keeping her hands busy, and her mind as well. If Peter didn't come, she wouldn't be too bothered...would she? She didn't have much time to ponder the thought, because the doorbell rang.
"Great." She muttered as she walked slowly to the door. She placed her hand on the knob, and stopped. She didn't have to do this. She could walk away. Pretend she wasn't home. It probably wouldn't be so convincing due to the fact that her car was in the driveway, but nonetheless, nothing was making her do this. Before she could turn around and walk away, though, her instincts kicked in and the door was open. Her breathing stopped.
"Cass." He looked the same. The brown eyes. His hair was of course darker now, but it was still the same Peter. The one who had taught her to play soccer. Those were the same lips she'd busted 19 years ago, but they weren't smiling like they'd typically be. They were nervous. His whole demeanor was nervous. Not as nervous as hers.
"Hey, Peter. Come in. It's cold." She shut the door behind them, and went into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" He said as she went around the corner. She looked back.
"Coffee?" He shook his head.
"I just want to talk to you." She pushed her hair behind her ears and walked back into the living room.
"You don't look the same." She frowned.
"Neither do you, Peter. Your hair is...longer, or something."
"That's not what I mean, Cass. You've lost weight. You look sad." She laughed a high, false laugh. How could he be here saying this? He had no idea what to base these assumptions on. Okay, so she had lost weight, but was she really sad? Well, yes, but, really, how could Peter tell?
"I'm not sad. I'm fine. I've been busy. You don't necessarily look like this is your favorite day either."
"Cass, I'm sure you have a good idea of how I feel right now. And I'm sure you know why I came here." She shuddered. This was not a conversation she was ready to have.
"Just get it over with." He looked at her.
"If you want me to leave, just say it. I'm not going to sit here and waste fucking time. Yours or mine." She hadn't heard him angry in a long time. And even when they were always together, his anger towards her was rare. It seemed to always surprise her.
"Fuck you. I didn't ask you to come. I'm still trying to figure out how my front fucking door ever opened. If I had a choice, you'd still be standing on the other side of it. Apparently my subconscious is a bitch, though, because here you are, and we're not resolving anything." She was angry too.
"What the hell, Cass. 6 months ago, this shit never would have existed between us. We never used to fight like this, and now it's a common occurrence every time we see each other. Why?" Cassandra just looked at him.
"Why do you think, Peter?" He looked down, and sighed.
"I said I was sorry. Okay? Damnit, what fucking more do you want. I can't do anything else. You want me to erase the past? Change history? Sorry. I'm just a guy." She laughed again.
"You could try being around. I know for a fact that sometimes, when you come to the city, you go to great lengths to make sure our paths don't cross. I'm sure, had our parents not been the best of friends, I'd never know. But of course, your dad calls my dad, and I'm left sick and fucking tired of not having you around. Actions speak louder than words, so stop saying you're sorry." Cassandra got up and went into the kitchen. Who the fuck cared if he didn't need coffee? She did, and that was her greatest concern.
"I don't really have anything to say to that. It's true. And even though you don't want to hear it, I'm still sorry. I'm sorry about everything. I wish I could change it, but we're adults. We know I can't. I don't talk to her anymore. I don't give a fuck about her. Just you, Cass, and I've stopped thinking about her, even, just so I could get back to where I was with you." Cassandra laughed, once again, from the kitchen. This was the most ironic conversation she'd ever been a part of.
"Peter, be honest with yourself. That level of friendship is dead. It's not possible with us anymore. Had I not caught you fucking the girl I hated most, we'd probably be together right now. We'd probably be doing all of that 'happily ever after' shit, but no. You blew it, and-"
"You could have fucking talked to me about it. Holy shit, Cass. What the hell was I supposed to say when you wouldn't even listen to me? You completely ignored that fact that I was...alive, and now we're here, more distanced than we've ever been, and we're in the same fucking room. I've been trying to get your forgiveness for months, and if I fail again, I may quit trying." Cassandra stopped. She put her coffee down, and rested her face in her hands against the counter. She knew she wasn't ready for this. There was one solution. Starting over. She approached him, crying, and sat down on the floor, cross-legged, in front of him.
"It would be stupid of me to put every ounce of faith I have, in you. I think you understand that. But what would be even more ridiculous, is forgetting we'd even been friends. Yeah, we were practically engaged, and yeah, I loved you more than I'll ever love anyone, and of course, you cheated on me. I spend all of my time taking those things into consideration, and I try to figure out a solution or a way to forget you, and every time, I come to the same place. We need to start over. Not back to childhood, or back to being stupid teenagers, or straight into a relationship again, all which I'm sure you'd figured. I want to be your friend. I want to have a foundation consisting only of friendship with you. I hope that's okay. I'm going to try. But so fucking help me, if you don't I quit, and we're back at square one." He stood up to leave, no expression on his face.
"You never finished the tape." She looked at him. Why wasn't he telling her how he felt?
"What?"
"Of course, I want your friendship, but first, I want you to finish the tape. Then, I'll expect a phone call. The tape is a map, Cass, it's supposed to lead you back to....." He put his hands up, not knowing what to say. "Just listen to the tape. Then, we'll talk. About whatever you want. Have a good evening." He opened the front door, and left, with Cassandra sitting in the middle of her living room floor. She lay down on her back, and stared at the ceiling.
"Tape it is."
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