the static or the silence; don't know which is worse

[skepticgirl_1]

I had noticed something strange going on.

I wasn't an expert or anything on Jake. Even though we lived together, we kept a respectable distance away from each other. I didn't want to know all the details of his business anymore than he wanted all the details of mine. But the past couple of days, ever since I had found him at that bar, things had been off.

He had gone out, but judging by the timing of when he left and when he came back, he hadn't been going to work. I had school, but also a pretty flexible schedule that let me out early some days. When I wanted to notice something, keep track of something, I did. And keeping track of Jake made me... well, worried.

I came home from school to find him sitting on the couch, watching TV, and I decided enough was enough. I threw my bag onto an armchair and sat myself, cross-legged and facing Jake's profile, on the couch.

"Okay," I said in a firm but demanding voice. "Spill."

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[gayest_crew]

"Spill what?" Jake asked, playing dumb. He knew what she was asking but he didn't know if he was ready to talk about it, admit to it, face up to what he'd done with someone else. He was still ashamed and could still feel the heavy weight of disappointment wrapped around his neck like a vice.

The only way he'd found to ease the guilt was to fill his days with activity. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Today, it wasn't really working. He was just bored and angry and now Lois was trying to talk to him which was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'm watching telly," he told her, nodding at the television. "Nothing to spill."