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Now wrapped in his sweatshirt, I grab my dolphin and curl up in the blanket pile. I stare at the wall closest to me, too afraid to even close my eyes.
It's not long before I hear the screams. They're horrific. Familiar. The product of a nightmare - Carter's, not mine. My heart aches as I sit up, wondering if I should go wake him. The decision is taken out of my hands when the screams abruptly cut off with a sharp, "Travis!" followed quickly by the sound of his bedroom door opening. I practically dive onto the bed, only bringing half of the blankets and one pillow with me. I'm just lying down when he opens the door and croaks out my name.
He climbs in beside me, and the anxiety itching along my skin from being on a bed starts to fade. It's not as good as when Jake is on one with me, but it's better at least. Enough for me to be able to stay put.
What helps most is the reminder that this is why I came. To be here for Carter.
I rest my head on his chest after he's calmed down, deciding he needs a plan. A way to move forward. "You need goals."
"Goals?" he asks with a laugh. "Like what?"
"I don't know. To… be okay again, I guess. Or to just be. It'll help to have concrete things to focus your energy on."
It sounds good, at least. Kind of like Dr. Singh's assignment of doing one thing to make us happy after every group therapy session. That assignment is why I went outside for the first time. Why I befriended Nolan. Why I let myself sleep on the floor without guilt. He needs a list of things to do. Or to at least try to do. Maybe it’ll help.
"Will you help me?" he whispers. "Make a list, I mean?"
"Of course."
I wait for him to ask if I want to make one too. If I'd like his help with it. But he doesn't.
Maybe he understands that my only goal right now is to keep waking up in the morning. Anything else is too much.
We start a list the next morning. It's easy enough - he has his college class Ace helped him sign up for that starts soon, so he needs textbooks. We name the whole project Operation Freedom, writing the list on a piece of paper we stick to the fridge.
Anytime we sit down to eat at our little table, we think of ideas. We tend to get distracted more often than not, but that's okay. It's nice talking to him. Sometimes we don't just forget the list. Sometimes we forget everything. We forget our reality.
Sometimes we fall into this moment in time where we're just two best friends in a shitty apartment, living life. But it never lasts. Something always reminds us.
Still, we manage a decent enough list on our first day of brainstorming. Then I spend that night awake at our table with a bottle of tequila and an unanswered text from Jake that reads: I’m worried about you, Case. Give me a call?
I don’t give him a call.
But I do drink way too much tequila and stare at the list for a long time.
Operation Freedom
Buy textbooks
For the college class he’s going to take so he can learn about Shakespeare or some shit while I try to learn how to be a human being again.
Find a job
Just for fun and to get out in the world, since we have plenty of money from an unknown source I didn’t want to ask any questions about.
Make a new friend
Because it’s a good idea, and because I’m not nearly enough for him, even if he pretends that I am.
Go drinking at a college bar
Since that’s what college kids our age do and at least one of us has hope of being that kind of carefree person again.
Read a book just for fun
Because Carter is a fucking nerd.
I take two more swigs of the tequila, letting the liquid burn its way through me as it chases away all of the self-hatred and disgust brewing in my veins. Then I stand and add a new item to the list. One that Carter deserves to explore. I might be broken, but he probably isn’t. It’s time for him to find out.
