Golf Balls

{Third Person}

Cheyenne slipped into her red coat and buttoned it up to hid the hooded sweatshirt she'd stupidly put on today. She looked down at her gray sweatpants and her scuffed converse. What had she been thinking this morning when she got dressed? She should have worn those jeans her mother had bought her last fall. The ones that actually gave her a butt. She'd been so tired and depressed this morning that she hadn't felt like putting in much of an effort getting dressed.

Outside, the cloudy sky gave the day a gray cast. It was drab and dreary, matching her mood. She plunged her hands in the front pockets of her coat. Her breath puffed out in front of her in a white cloud.

At the first aisle of cars, she stopped and scanned the vehicles for Eric's truck. A couple ran past her towards a blue car. The girl laughed. He smiled over the roof of the car as he fidgeted with the lock.

What wouldn't Cheyenne give to be happy again? She could still turn back. if she didn't talk to Eric, were they still going to be done? If she avoided it, maybe it wouldn't happen.

But then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned. Electric green eyes meeting hers.

"Eric."

"Ready?" he said, keys jingling in his hand. He hadn't teased his hair today. She hated it when he left it blowdryed. Maybe he'd done it on purpose, as if to say he didn't care about her opinion anymore.

"Yeah, i was just.. looking for the truck."

"Third row." He said, and ambled off, the snow crunching beneath his boots.

She hesitated, dread knotting her gut. She breathed in and put purpose into her step as she caught up with Eric.

He unlocked the passenger side door then went around to the driver's side. He drove to Rocco's, a drive-through deli that probably survived on the income it made during lunch hour.

Through the front windows, Cheyenne could see several of the tables were full. There was a line at the front counter.

Eric pulled around the sand-colored brick building and stopped at the speaker box. Two more cars pulled up behind them, engines idling.

A female voice came through the speaker,

"Welcome to Rocco's. what can i get for you?"

"A turkey lavish and a diet coke," Eric said. He turned to Cheyenne "What do you want?"

She shrugged. She wasn't very hungry, but if she refused food, Eric might think she was being dramatic. "The usual."

He turned back to the speaker.

"And a tuna sandwich with a diet coke."

After paying for their food, Eric drove to the park where they usually spent their lunch hours. The playground in front of the parking lot was empty and iced over. The duck pond was frozen, too, and covered in snow. it was barely visible except for the slight dip in the landscaping.

Eric parked and let the truck idle, the head blowing out through the vents.

"So," he said, sliding his straw into his drink, "What did you want to talk about?"

"You asked me here," she said, ripping off a tiny piece of her sandwich.

Eric let out a long breath through his nose before saying,

"you left me a voicemail and said we needed to talk." he took a bite of his lavish and got cream cheese on the corner of his mouth. "Will you get me a napkin?"

She checked the white deli bag. finding none, she popped open the glove box and dug inside. she always stuffed napkins in there for emergencies such as this. She pulled out a wad and handed them to Eric.

"Thanks," he said around a mouthful of food. After wiping his mouth, he set his food down and sipped from his soda.

Cheyenne could feel his eyes on her as she picked at her sandwich. there was so much running through her mind, but she couldn't get anything past her lips. She wasn't the one to pour her heart out- or ask questions she didn't want to hear the answers to. At the same time, her rational mind said she had finalize this. otherwise, it'd sit like a heavy weight on her shoulders. she hated leaving things unfinished.

"Are we broken up for real?" she finally asked, turning away from the fogged passenger window and to Eric. he pinned his eyes on her. She had the fleeting thought that, broken up, his eyes would be for someone else soon. He wasn't going to be single for long. Cheyenne couldn't let him get away.

"I'm sorry, Chey." he said, shifting his gaze to the windshield and what was beyond it. She followed and watched a squirrel, she'd remember this moment: the pain and realization.

Stupid squirrel.

"Is there any particular reason why?" She dared to ask. After a long pause he said,

"We're just no fun anymore."

"you mean I'm no fun anymore."

He cocked his head to the side. "I didn't say that."

"But that's what you were thinking."

"You're a mind reader now?"

"Don't be a jerk."

He dropped his hands in his lap. "There you go, reason number two."

"What?"

"This. the arguments. it's stupid. every time we're together we argue."

"We do not."

Sighing, he shook his head and pulled the truck into reverse. He backed out of the parking lot and drove to the road.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking you home."

"What? we still have time." She argued, nodding at the digital clock on the dash stereo.

He didn't say anything as he pulled through an intersection.

"Now you're not going to talk to me?"

"no."

"why?"

"Talking leads to more arguing. If I don't talk," He flicked his eyes to her, "we don't argue."
"No, Eric. Stop. We need to fix this."

"There's nothing to fix."

"We've been together for two years! you call that nothing?"

"I call that a good relationship that has finally run it's course."

She fell back into her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.