Pitbabe S2, Chapter 11 pg1

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 11 pg1

   Chapter 11:

   CHRIS:

   I think it’s been way too long that he’s been hugging me in this convenience store, and neither of us has said a word.

   Guess it’s gotta be me.

   “I get that you probably have a lot to talk about with Way, but I really don’t know how to pass it on to him,” I said calmly, my arms still hanging at my sides. Of course, I didn’t hug back. I might not have pushed him away like I’d normally do, but I’m not crazy enough to go hugging strangers.

   “What are you talking about?” Way’s friend asked, sounding thoroughly confused. But what’s even more confusing is why he still hasn’t let go of me.

   “I’m not sure how people communicate with spirits. I’m just a regular doctor, never took a course in ghost whispering.”

   “What…”

   Oh, it worked.

   He finally let go.

   “I’m not Way, in case you haven’t noticed,” I said, smiling at him. The handsome guy stared at me like his life depended on it, his sharp brows knitting together so tightly they nearly formed a knot on his forehead. Come to think of it, all of Way’s acquaintances react the same way when they see me—shocked like they’ve seen a ghost, then staring like they’re trying to solve an Olympic math problem. “But I get why you’d mistake me. You’re not the first. Sometimes I even mistake myself in the mirror.”

   “What are you talking about?” He kept staring like my words weren’t registering at all. “How can you not be you?”

   “Before you question that, don’t you wonder how someone who’s dead could be standing here talking to you like this?”

   “Huh?”

   He’s completely lost it, not following a thing. Right now, I’m wondering if it’d be okay to just walk away, because I have no idea how long it’ll take to explain to this guy that I’m not his beloved Way.

   “I know who Way is, but I’m not him,” I said, hoping this was the clearest I could make it. I really hope this guy’s as smart as he looks. “My name’s Chris, and… I don’t know if this helps, but I know Charlie. Oh, and you too.”

   “You… you’re not Way.”

   Looks like he’s starting to get it.

   “Yeah, sorry about that.”

   “How’s that possible?”

   “How do I explain? Long-lost twin?” I laughed, but Way’s guy didn’t seem to get my joke. He didn’t even twitch a smile to humor me. “I don’t know either. I just came back, and everyone’s been looking at me like I’m a ghost, calling me Way.”

   “How do you know Way?”

   “What are you talking about?” He kept staring at me like my words weren’t sinking in. “How can you not be you?”

   “Before you question that, don’t you find it weird that someone who died is standing here talking to you?”

   “Huh?”

   He’s completely lost it, not following anything. Right now, I’m wondering if I just walked away, would it matter? I have no idea how long it’d take to make this guy understand I’m not his beloved Way.

   “I know who Way is, but I’m not him,” I said, hoping this was clear enough. I hoped this guy was as smart as he looked. “I’m Chris, and… I don’t know if this helps, but I know Charlie. Oh, and Babe too.”

   “You… you’re not Way.”

   Looks like he’s starting to get it.

   “Yeah, sorry about that.”

   “How’s that possible?”

   “How do I explain? Long-lost twin?” I laughed, but Way’s guy didn’t seem to get my joke. He didn’t even twitch a smile to humor me. “I don’t know either. I just came back, and everyone’s been looking at me like I’m a ghost, calling me Way.”

   “How do you know Way?”

   “I don’t know him at all. I only started learning about him when everyone kept calling me Way.”

   “He died… two years ago.”

   “That’s what I’ve heard.”

   His face was still clouded with confusion, but the dull look in his eyes said a lot. I wouldn’t call it guilt, but I felt a bit of pity for just ripping a huge chunk of hope out of his chest. Earlier, he looked so happy to see Way again, even confessing his love and dreaming big about starting over. I stood there listening quietly, only to coldly break his heart in the end. But, of course, that’s not my fault.

   To be fair, it’s more his fault for acting like a loser two years ago. From the way he was rambling earlier, it’s obvious this guy’s been living in the past for two years. He probably spends his days jotting down a list of “things I wish I could go back and do when Way was still here,” then beating himself up like some pathetic failure. Yeah, that’s the word—pathetic. Not only is he stuck in the past, but he’s the type who waits until it’s too late to realize anything. That’s one kind of person I can’t stand.

   “Sorry,” he said, regaining his composure and bowing slightly to apologize. The distance between us grew, like he suddenly decided to be cautious around me. “You really look so much like him, so I…”

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