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n’t.
This time, Olivia stares at me with disbelief. I stare right back. She swallows hard, her tense shoulders slumping with defeat. I’ve let her down, I can tell, though I’m not sure how I managed to do that. “I might not be able save you next time.”
“You shouldn’t have this time.”
MY WORDS ARE a bluff. Death, especially suicide, scare the hell out of me. I’ve seen the destruction any type of death leaves behind, and to take my own life is the last thing I want to burden my siblings with. I like life. I like living. I’m even happy sometimes, but that doesn’t change things overall. What I do know is that I don’t like how things are right now or how to make them different. Something that appears simple to others, like Lucy, isn’t that simple. It’s complex and confusing.
Olivia mulls over my words as if she’s debating whether I’m really bluffing or not. Finally, she speaks. “I’m a good listener.”
“For what? Me to talk about my feelings? I don’t do that.” I shouldn’t give her a response at all. Nor should I continue with, “I don’t have to talk to you just because you helped me.” Shouldn’t she be at least a little pissed that I haven’t thanked her yet?
“You should,” she simply answers.
“I should talk to you because you helped me?” She’s asking too much of me. That’s no easy task for me.
“No, you should talk to me because you need someone to listen and understand you.”
“You can do that?” I question skeptically.
Olivia nods. “More than you think I can, but you have to realize you need help first.”
Help. Ha.
She stands, walks over to my dresser, and retrieves the money before heading to the door.
“Where are you going?” Stupid question. I told her to leave.
But she called my bluff by telling me she’s a good listener. Her words lit a torch in the tunnel I’m stuck in. If she leaves, the flames will extinguish.
“My apartment.” Olivia waits ten seconds for me to ask her to stay.
I don’t, and she leaves.
AFTER TAKING SOME aspirin, I force myself to get up and shower. I need to, badly. Instead of a hot one, I take a lukewarm shower. The cool water feels better against my skin. My chest lifts as I inhale the scent of my body wash. Oddly, it’s easy to breathe today. Maybe going to work won’t be so bad.
On the other hand, Thursdays are college nights. Lots of people from the university will make their way to the club. I sigh and gently push the thought away for now. It’s not like I can call in and say, “Hey, I’ve been drinking and sleeping for four days straight and I’m still tired. Can I have the night off to sleep some more?” Like I would sleep anyway.
Hell, I’m tired from my thoughts too. They need to slow down before I lose the lightweight feeling and everything starts falling apart all over again. I hook my phone to a little sound system and start playing rock music. It’s easy to not think when my mind is occupied with listening to something else.
I’ve just slipped on my shoes when the music stops because my phone is ringing. Probably Patrick. He’s the pain-in-the-ass sibling out of the four of us.
“I’m sorry,” I answer, knowing I’ll be apologizing a lot throughout this conversation if things were as bad as Olivia said. “Does Luce know?”
“No, she doesn’t,” he snaps. “Corey, you’re my brother and I’d do anything for you, but there’s no point if you aren’t willing to do the same things for yourself. I don’t understand—”
And this is where I stop listening. He’s right. He doesn’t understand. The rest of the conversation doesn’t matter because it hinges on that. Someone has to understand this. Someone besides me. If Patrick, the psych major, doesn’t understand, then I’m fucked.
“You need help.” He echoes Olivia’s words and I wonder if that’s where he got them from. “Something is wrong, Corey. That much I do know.”
My mouth parts with the familiar phrase, “I’m fine,” about to slip out. I stop, remembering Olivia’s outburst. “I’ll work on it,” I say instead. I’m tired of him being on my back, and at this point, I’ll say whatever it takes to get him off.
“Promise? Or do I need to send Luce up there every weekend to check on you? You wouldn’t pull shit like this with her around.”
Pull shit like this? What the fuck is he talking about? I went from something being wrong to me purposely doing this? Lucy would come up here if he asked her, but neither of us want to resort to that.
“Yeah, I promise,” I answer, my voice void of emotions. “I gotta go to work.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
So much for a good night.
