“Lydia—”
“No, don’t Lydia me! You don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in your own damn head all the time, stuck in memories you can’t get out, no matter what you do. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ll go insane if it doesn’t stop.”
They both just stare at me, at a loss for words.
“I found a way to shut it off, so I fucking took it, okay?”
“This isn’t the way,” Lani says, but her voice cracks as it comes out. “You could end up killing yourself.”
“Yeah? What if I told you I don’t give a fuck if I do?
“You don’t mean that…” Simone says so quietly that I barely catch it. I see the hurt written all over her face.
“Screw you. Screw both of you.” I spit the words like poison, needing them to believe I meanthem. “You only judge me because you don’t fucking know what it’s like.” I wave a hand between them. “With your perfect little happy lives, how could you?”
“That’s not fair,” Simone argues. “Nobody’s life is perfect.”
I throw my hands up and laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s right. I forgot. Your boyfriend is trying to dump you and is probably a couple of states over right now, fucking as many college girls as he can because you’re the only pussy he’s ever gotten, and he’s finally gotten tired of it. Such a sad fucking story. At least he didn’t beat the fuck out of you until you couldn’t get out of bed…just to go and fucking kill himself in front of you and blame you for all the fucked up thingshedid toyou!” I yell. “Face it, Simone! You’retooperfect sometimes. He probably got so fucking bored with you that he wanted to blow hisownbrains out. So he would rather just dump you instead and go live his life, not wanting to be drained by you any longer!”
I watch as the tears fall down her face. My fucking heart breaks looking at her, but I can’t stop. I need her to hurt the way I’m fucking hurting. Even if I don’t mean a single thing I’m saying to her. I desperately need them to leave me the hell alone.
The front door bursts open, and a guy stumbles past us, leaping off the porch toward a car idling at the curb. All of our heads turn, and my eyes lock on the driver.
Bash.
How long has he been sitting there? How much did he hear?
Fuck….why do I even care? I don’t know him. As much as I might feel like I do for some strange reason. I don’t….so fuck him for that stupid pitying, sympathetic look he has on his face right now.
Mason’s in the passenger seat, yelling at the drunk guy to hurry up. Bash doesn’t look away from me until Mason gets his attention to say something to him. He glances back at me one more time, and then they’re gone.
“We’re taking you home,” Lani says. “Let’s get in the car.”
“No,” I snap. “I’m walking.”
“It’ll take you over an hour to get back on foot—”
“Don’t care.” I turn and start walking fast, stumbling slightly, their voices chasing me, but never catching up.
I don’t look back.
I can’t.
Not when the shame is already setting in.
Not when I hate myself this much.
48
Bash
I hate a frat basement. Too many guys shouting over music that isn’t even good enough to be playing this loud, and too many drunk girls trying to hit on you, forcing you to play polite when you just want to roll your eyes and tell them to leave you alone.
Somehow, I still ended up here. Mostly because Erik bribed me with some free pizza, wanting to hang out with the boys, and because Mason asked us to come hang out.
Sometimes it’s just easier to give in and try to enjoy it rather than explaining why I hate being around these kinds of people now since I’m clean.
At least we’re now out in the yard instead of stuck inside the house that smells like straight booze and easy ways to mess up your life.
