chapter forty
florence thompson
song: how do you sleep? - sam smith

When Benjamin Wilson broke my heart in high school, I promised myself I would never allow myself to get close enough to a man again unless the end goal was permanent. Now, to be fair, Ben didn't know he broke my heart. He didn't even know I liked him, and Aria didn't know either so they didn't know that by hooking up they were crushing my heart.

They still don't know to this day, the only souls other than myself who know are my mother and Rico.

So imagine the irony of being stranded at a motel and having to be picked up from your current heartbreak by your first heartbreak.

I called Rico multiple times, each time only getting his voicemail. Aria's just continually rang, never hitting the voicemail for some reason. It took me a lot of debating and looking at my bank account to see if I could afford a taxi before I swallowed my pride and tried the last person I wanted to see. Well, second to last.

The thought of calling Vincent popped into my mind but it was gone as quick as it came. I couldn't imagine seeing him right now, the very thought of his face made me queasy. Even hearing his voice, really.

As I sat in the motel room the next morning, puffy eyes from crying-because I'm absolutely ridiculous and run by my emotions-sat next to my overnight bag on the bed, dressed in the yellow summer dress I'd brought for today and white converse, I dreaded everything that was going to follow that moment.

I'd tried my best to hide the redness around my eyes with the concealer I'd brought but it only seemed to make it worse. It's not like I could cover my bloodshot eyes with concealer, so my best shot was to just avoid eye contact but I knew that plan would more than likely crash and burn.

An abrupt knock at the door tore me out of my daze.

I pulled my gaze up to the door, my hands still sat in my lap. With a short sigh, I grabbed my bag and headed towards the door. After closing my eyes for a short moment and mustering up the energy to be normal, I yanked the door open and was face to face with Ben Wilson, first crush, first heartbreak, current best friend and life saver.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Ben asked, in his usual boyish manner. His dark hair was tousled messily as he stood in front of me in a black short sleeve shirt and jeans with athletic shoes. It reminded me of the outfit I'd dressed Vincent in yesterday, my heart sagging slightly at the thought.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready." I nodded, avoiding his gaze as I walked out, letting the door shut behind me.

Since it was only one level, we walked right outside and into the nice weather. It was sunny, a slight breeze to keep us cool, and for some reason, it only made the misery that much more miserable. It's almost like an insult to the dark cloud in my mind, all I crave is just a torrential downpour so the weather could reflect how I felt.

How emo-12-year-old of me, I know.

When we finally arrived at Ben's old black convertible, he opened my door for me, watching me expectantly. I looked up at him, smiling softly as a thank you when his expression fell dramatically.

I went to climb into the car but before I could slip into the vehicle, Ben closed it without latching it, slipping himself between me and the vehicle, his close proximity really the last thing I need right now.

"Florence, what's wrong?" He asked, his tone taking a turn to an upset friend.

I sighed, hanging my head and looking at my shoes before squeezing my eyes shut, wishing I could just disappear from this cliche protective male friend finds out about what current male interest did to make damsel in distress upset situation.

I'm not a victim of anything here, and yet no matter how much I remind myself of that, my heart still feels as if it's in a million pieces after finding out why he was leaving last night. The image of Vincent De Bellis tangled in bed with Julia Kline was permanently engraved into my mind, making it even worse.

"Florence," Ben spoke again, this time his voice held a demanding undertone to it. I could tell he was growing impatient.

"What?" I all but whispered, my voice seeming stuck in my throat.

A large hand came up under my chin as Ben hooked his finger under it, pulling my face upwards so he could see me more clearly. I admitted defeat, not making a move to move away from him or fight him on it.

When his hazel eyes fell on my puffy and tired eyes, his jaw immediately clenched. Something I probably wouldn't have caught if not for our close proximity.

"What did he do, Florence?" He demanded, it was barely even a question. My heart sunk but yet I found myself wanting to defend Vincent. "Did he hurt you?" He asked, his gaze suddenly grazing over me entirely as he searched for any bruises or signs of harm.

"No," I immediately answered, not giving him any time to debate the idea of Vincent even laying a finger on me. "No, he didn't hurt me, Ben. It's nothing, really. I'm just overly emotional today, it's fine."

"I don't believe that for a second. You're overly emotional every day, that's nothing new, but I know well that it takes a lot to make you cry," he pointed out as if he knew me like the back of his hand, and part of me wondered if he really did.

I rolled my eyes.

"Thanks," I grumbled, going to move my face away from him before he cupped my face with his large hands, stepping closer to me as he tilted my face up more.

"I'm not kidding. Tell me what he did, I'll fix it, Flo. I promise," he muttered the last part, his hardened gaze softening immediately and I wanted to slap him because it made my eyes burn all over again, when I thought I was all cried-out.

I smiled sadly, trying my damnedest to not let the floodgates open again, especially in front of poor Ben. He doesn't need to witness that.

"You can't fix it, Ben," I whispered, my voice coming out quite wobbly and I'm sure it was quite apparent to Ben that I was on the verge of another breakdown. "I wish you could," I sighed, cursing myself mentally as I felt a tear escape and roll down my cheek. I wiped it away furiously with the back of my hand.

In a moment Ben had me pulled tight against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. I wrapped my own arms around his abdomen, pressing my face against his t-shirt as the tears seemed to stream harder down my face that was surely a shade of pink at this point. He rested his cheek against the top of my head, releasing a sigh.

"I wish I could, too, Flo. I wish I could fix everything," he mumbled into my hair.

• • •

listen, i know it may seem like Flo is being a crazy bish right now, but please also note that a) she's had to deny her feelings for Vincent over & over again and come face to face with encounters that point towards Julia & Vincent having deeper relations than just SB/SD (i.e. the guy at the event, vincent going to see julia at the event, the phone call, and now he's left her at a hotel & lied.) and b) she's realizing that as much as she wants to be with him, that could very well not be plausible.

ok thank u

q: most overrated movie?