We were silent for awhile, finishing our smokes.
I caught Cooper staring at me, he blushed and turned away. I frowned, “What is it Cooper?”
“Well,” he started hesitantly, “I was thinking… about you… and what, I mean, how I handled that freshman year. And how you handled it.”
I stared at him blankly, “Handled what?”
“Sex,” he replied, “duh.”
I laughed, “Right, that. So how did I handle it, exactly?”
I waited, curious to see what this bizarre conversation was leading to. He sighed, “You got pretty messed up, didn’t you.”
I scowled, suddenly defensive, “I did not.”
“Brit, you slept with half the male population the night after we broke up,” I didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. Was it… apologetic?
I didn’t answer, I just continued scowling and deciphering the look in his eyes.
“I got messed up too, you know,” Cooper continued, “I stopped thinking, or I started thinking too much, maybe both.”
I stared at him blankly. He sighed, “I’d forgotten what it’s like to really care about someone.”