AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He gazed out at the pool. “She hides a lot of her pain, you know? I see her writing shit down a lot at night. I’ll walk by her room, and she’ll close her notebook real fast, like she doesn’t want me to see. What is she hiding from me? She doesn’t talk to me about how she’s feeling. She just puts on a brave face and bottles everything up. I know that’s partly my fault because I can hardly handle talking about stuff myself. It just sucks that she doesn’t have any family to open up to but me—because I suck at it.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m no better when it comes to opening up about difficult shit.”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “We both suck.”
Alyssa emerged from the pool, her nipples fully visible through her wet bra. Nathan’s mouth once again hung open. It was a little embarrassing.
“That was amazing. I feel so refreshed.” She wrapped herself in a towel, and just like that, Nathan’s little show was over.
The three of us ended up grilling some hotdogs for dinner, and Alyssa threw together a salad with the vegetables we had left in the crisper. We ate by the pool as the sun went down.
I could tell Alyssa was still annoyed that our time together earlier in my room had never amounted to anything. She kept hinting that she had nowhere to be tonight, but I wasn’t feeling it. So I made up an excuse.
I stood and announced, “I actually told my parents I’d come by their place tonight. I can drive you home on the way.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Oh...I assumed we were going to be hanging out tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Another time.”
Alyssa grabbed her stuff and seemed silently annoyed as we got into my truck. She didn’t have much to say when I dropped her off either.
After I left her house, I happened to pass the block where The Iguana was located. Farrah had told me she was headed there tonight. I wondered if maybe she’d lied about it so I wouldn’t get on her case about getting in that dude Sheridan’s car.
Curiosity got the best of me. I knew I’d regret it, but I impulsively pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. If she wasn’t here, I’d know she was lying. I convinced myself this had nothing to do with being a stalker, that my checking up on her was for her own good. There would be no harm in peeking inside to see if I could spot her. Then I’d leave. I wasn’t sure what I’d be doing with this information—it wasn’t like I could text her if she wasn’t here and say, I know you’re not really at The Iguana. I’d have to keep this to myself either way. Yet I still felt compelled to do it.
When I walked into the bar, however, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw. Rather than being noisy, the place was almost completely quiet. In the center of the spotlight, up on stage, was Farrah.
My heart beat faster as I realized she was about to say something. You would’ve thought I was the one up there with how nervous I got. It felt like I stopped breathing for a moment until her voice finally rang out over the room.
“I’m Farrah.”
“Hi, Farrah,” the audience said in unison.
“This isn’t going to be one of the sexy or embarrassing stories. So I apologize for that. Believe me, I’ve had many of the embarrassing ones lately. Maybe I’ll confess one of those another day.” She cleared her throat. “The reason I’m pouring my heart out today…” She paused for several seconds. “…is because my parents were murdered.”
A few people gasped, followed by muffled whispering. My chest tightened with shock.
Farrah took a deep breath in and continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever said those words aloud. I mean, how many people have lost both their parents to murder? I’m sure people like me exist—like, on Dateline. But we’re few and far between. Most days I feel like the only person on Earth in this situation, even though I know that can’t be true.”
She ran her hand along her hair. “People typically don’t know what to say to me when they find out what happened to my parents. It’s hard for me to see shocked reactions like yours. Talking about it is an unwanted reality check, one that takes me out of the denial that’s necessary for everyday survival. I know I’m probably supposed to give you more specifics about what happened, all of the salacious details… Because that’s what we do here, right? Pour our hearts out? But sometimes, there are just no words. So I won’t be able to go there tonight.”
Farrah let out a breath, amplified by the mic. “I mainly come here every week to listen to you all, not only for the occasional juicy confessions, but for the sad ones. It’s the sad ones that keep me coming. Those make me feel less alone. Listening to some of you has taught me that it’s okay to not be okay, that human suffering is a collective experience. We all have something. No one gets out of this world unscathed. Maybe we’re not put here to have it easy. Maybe life is about learning to survive pain and grief, two things that hit every person at some point. My turn just came at fourteen, when my life changed forever.
