I was laying on the couch, staring out the window, thinking about Truman. Not the cigarette that always dangled from his lips or the way he held that bouquet of flowers in his hands outside the hospital, softly.

I wasn't thinking about the look that flashed across his face when he realized he didn't know what Katie's favourite flower was.

Instead, I was thinking about how our paths haven't crossed in a week. Not out of luck, either. Rather, avoidance. I had been avoiding him ever since he admitted that, somehow, he liked me, too. Liked. Past tense. As in, it doesn't matter anymore.

He never showed up at the bar again. I assumed he must have taken my warning to heart, because the seat he once occupied remained empty. That didn't stop my eyes from drifting there every night, waiting. It was a treacherous thing, the way a heart works sometimes.

Like I said, I was getting good at this: avoidance.

I still remember sleepovers at Katie's and how Truman never woke up before noon. He liked to sleep in, Katie told me once. He also liked to walk into the kitchen shirtless and sit on the counter, eating cereal and holding my gaze.

He was a tease then. I wasn't sure who he was now.

I assumed Truman still slept long into the afternoon, so I slipped into Katie's hospital room early in the mornings before class when there was no chance of us running into each other. I knew he was still in bed, probably draped around Santana.

I tried not to think of that, either.

Instead I focused on school, the bar, the occasional boy to keep me company, and how much my life had changed in such a short span of time.

It feels like I've aged years in the past few months. I couldn't wrap my head around how I had gone from laying on my stomach on the floor of Katie's bedroom, where my biggest worry was the upcoming Calculus test, to spending my nights shifting between a bar and Katie's hospital room.

It didn't make sense.

I wanted time to slow down. Everything was moving too fast. And I felt lost, somewhere stuck in the past before everything went to shit.

I jolted as the door to my apartment slammed open. Ramona, my roommate, crashed through like a tornado, running and collapsing on the couch beside me. Her arms were flying through the air, words coming out too fast for me to understand.

"Woah!" I held her by the shoulders, laughing. "Slow down, Mona."

She stuck her hand in my face. "I'm engaged!"

I gawked at the diamond resting on her finger, sparkling under the sunlight pouring in through the window.

"Holy fuck," I breathed, grabbing her hand and pulling it to my eye. "Is this even real?"

"Yes!" she squealed. Mona was bouncing on the couch, looking like she was about to explode. "He proposed last night! I can't believe this, Eden. I mean, okay, I can believe this. We've been together since we were ten! But marriage? I'm only twenty! Is that too young? I thought this was what people do now, yeah? Marry before their twenties?"

I drifted off around the tenth question. Ramona remained oblivious, chatting away to herself as she cried. I was happy for her. Well, as happy as you can be for someone you've known for two months, but marriage?

I was just worried about my life moving too fast. Now I was here, stressing that it wasn't moving fast enough.

"Anyways, I should be out by the end of the month. Is that cool?"

I snapped back to reality at that. "What?"I asked, blinking.

Ramona sighed and breezed into the kitchen, her long skirt flowing behind her. "I said I'm moving out, Eden. Geez, are you even listening? This is the happiest moment of my life and you're lost somewhere in space!" She slammed the fridge shut and turned to stare at me, clutching some green drink in her hand. "I'm moving in with Aiden, hun. I'll be out by the end of the month."

"What!" I bolted off the couch. "You can't just move out and give me a few weeks notice, Mona!"

She rolled her eyes and bit into an apple. "I'm engaged now. Do you expect me to, what, live here with you still?"

"You could at least give me time to find a roommate!" I snapped.

She skipped towards her bedroom door, turning to me before disappearing into it. "I already paid this month's rent, Ed. You're good for another, like, three weeks? This is Toronto we're talking about, babe. Apartments sell faster than the new iPhone."

"Mona—"

"You'll find someone!" She blew me a kiss and shut the door to her bedroom behind her. I stood there, staring daggers into it, until my heart rate slowed down.

One month to find a new roommate.

I wished I could pick up my phone and ask Katie. We talked about it a million and one times throughout high school: the idea of moving into the city together for university, sharing an apartment and eating takeout on the couch.

Before I could wallow in pity, I stood up, shoved my shoes on, and headed for the door.

"I'll be home later!" I called over my shoulder to Ramona, who I knew wasn't listening.

___

"Another one," I said, slamming the shot glass down on the counter.

Markus rolled his eyes as he refilled the glass, eyeing me behind his glasses. "You know this is just water."

I brought the glass to my lips and threw my head back, gulping it down. "Who even created these laws, anyway? We can serve alcohol at eighteen, but have to be nineteen to drink it. Idiots," I murmured, slouching against the chair.

"What's your problem tonight? Thought this was your day off."

"It is," I told him. "Ramona is moving out and I need to find a new roommate. Hey!" I perked up and leaned forward. "Looking for somewhere to live?"

"No." My heart broke. "Just moved in with Christoff, you know that."

"Why is everyone in love?" I grumbled, resting my cheek on my hand. "Well, if you two break up, let me know."

The door to the bar opened and I followed Markus' appraising gaze to find Truman walk in, looking incognito with a baseball cap and sunglasses on.

"Crap," I murmured, sinking lower in my stool, hoping he wouldn't see me.

Out of every bar in the damn city.

"Who's that?" Markus whispered.

"No one," I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him. His hands shot up and he took a step back, shaking his head.

I tried to fluff my hair out to hide my face as Truman walked by, his hand brushing against the back of my stool.

"Eden," he said curtly, walking by and taking a seat at the opposite end of the bar.

My gaze followed him, and I watched as he ordered a beer, envious as he took a long drink.

I knew I was the one who told him to leave me alone, countless times, but this wasn't how our dynamic worked. I ignored him. Not the other way around.

"What's your problem?" I called. We were the only three people in the bar. The place didn't become busy until the sun set.

Truman didn't even look my way, just kept his eyes trained in front of him. "Nothing," he said.

I sighed and tried again. "Truman—"

He took off his sunglasses and turned to me in a flash. "You told me to leave you alone, Eden. So would you let me ignore you? Fuck," he grumbled.

Truman grabbed his beer and walked away, sitting at a booth in the corner as I watched him with my mouth hanging open. Markus whistled, laughing. I shot him a glare and he shut up.

I grabbed my embarrassing glass of water and followed him to the booth, sliding into the seat in front of him. He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to lift his gaze off the table.

"I don't know how to act around you," I said after a moment. His eyebrows raised slightly, the only tell he was listening. "It was always me and Katie, you know? You were just there. . .watching. We never really talked."

Truman's eyes met mine and I hated how my heart fluttered.

"For someone who wants to be left alone, you sure are doing a shit job," he said.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bottle of beer from his hands and took a sip, ignoring Markus yelling from behind the counter. Truman only leaned back in the booth, watching me with his eyebrows drawn together.

"Being with you makes me feel like I'm still apart of her life." I set the bottle down and slid it across the table to him. "Makes me feel like Katie's still here."

"She is still here."

"No," I whispered, "she's not."

Truman's knee nudged mine beneath the table. When I met his gaze, his eyes had softened. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't even know what her favourite flower was."

I felt myself smile. That was the thing with Truman, why he always pulled me in. On the outside he seemed like a stone, rigid and cold. But sometimes. . . there were these glimpses at another side of him. Like when he talked about his sister, or when he placed that halo on my head so many months ago.

Even the way he held me as we kissed, gently.

There was more to Truman Falls than what he tried to give off. And I was overwhelmed with the need to figure him out.

"That's just a flower," I said, returning to the conversation. "You're her brother, Tru. You know everything there is to know about Katie. Way more than I ever could."

I felt the water welling behind my eyes and I blinked, pushing it back. My friendship with Katie felt like it had been built on ulterior motives. I liked to spend time with her so I could be around Truman.

I loved Katie, I did, but I always wondered if I would have stuck around if it weren't for her alluring, older brother.

"I'm starting to feel far away from her, I guess," I said. "Like the memories are drifting away and then I'll have nothing left."

It was a lie. I wanted to know more about Katie because I had spent so much of our friendship focused on Truman. But maybe now, I could change that.

Or at least I could try.

Truman leaned forward, planting his arms on the table. I could feel his breath hitting my face as he said, "I thought you wanted me to leave you alone."

I chuckled, leaning in too. "Let's call it a truce."

"I'm intrigued. What kind of truce?"

"We no longer have to avoid each other," I said, watching the way his eyes lit up.

"I knew you'd come around eventually." He leaned even closer, voice low. "You never could stay away, Eden."

"No flirting, either. It's apart of the truce."

"Lame."

"Take it or leave it.

Truman sat back against the booth. His eyes roamed over my face for a moment before he said, "Deal. So what now?"

"I want you to tell me about Katie. About what she was like as a kid before I met her."

"There's a lot to tell."

"Like?"

"Like," he began, pausing to finish the bottle, "I can tell you what her favourite restaurant is, or show you the park she played in everyday as a kid. I can tell you her favourite book is The Fault in Our Stars and how she forced me to watch the movie with her five times."

I felt my face stretch into a grin. "And did you cry?"

He scoffed. "No." I stared at him, waiting. "Fine, once. But that letter was sad as fuck, Eden. Everyone cried."

We sat there, eyes locked as we laughed and, for a second, we didn't feel like two strangers who only shared a kiss and memories of the same girl.

"Truman?" I asked. "Could you tell me more sometime?"

He reached across the table to grab my phone, then proceeded to type what I assumed to be his number into it, then took a selfie with his tongue sticking out before handing it back to me.

His fingers grazed mine. His touch felt like free falling off a cliff and knowing the water would be there, warm and waiting.

"Let me know when you wanna talk." Truman was half way across the bar by the time I looked up from my hand. "And Eden?" he called, pausing at the door. "It doesn't only have to be about Katie."

I watched him leave, wondering how mornings filled with belly laughs and video games had led me here, to this moment with him.

_______________________