What if the person responsible is here right now? What if I know who it is but my mind is blocking out any memory of me coming into contact with them?
I find myself carefully scanning the people in the bar, curious if any of them have it in them to slaughter a bunch of kids at a forest party for no reason. A few of the bar-goers look up at me, staring as if they know what I'm thinking. Like they can penetrate my mind and hear my accusations. I start to feel slightlyoverwhelmed, my palms get sweaty and a jagged ball of nerves starts to expand in my chest like an overheated corn kernel, bursting with spikes of fear.
When I look around at all the familiar faces, one by one, I notice that every single person looks up at me until every pair of eyes in the building has been planted securely on mine. Though the sound of the music doesn't quite drown out—the jukebox now playingSmells Like Teen Spiritby Nirvana—but the background behind the faces staring at me seems to blur; not a single mouth is moving.
Straight-faced.
Dead glares.
Eyes on me.
Slow motion.
Panic seizes, causing me to start a mini fit of hyperventilation, anxiety creeping like deadly molasses in my veins, and right as I feel the weight of my paranoia explode, a hand falls on my shoulder. I jump back and drop the glass that I'd been gripping in my fist.
"Jesus." I snap out of whatever took over my thoughts and look up at Alli who is staring at me with concern.
I frantically look over at all the people in the bar and realize none of them are looking at me. They're laughing in their groups, shouting at the televisions and singing to the song. Not a single person even so much as moves to glance over at the sound of the glass that broke.
I must have zoned out and imagined it all.
Now would be a great time to take one of those anxiety pills.
"You okay?" Alli asks, leaning down to help me pick up the mess I made.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I lie, knowing that I'm not fine.
This time of year is making a mess out of me, more than I anticipated and more than the past years. I’m filled with this impending foreboding. Like something is swaying me to do the one thing I don’t want to do but whether I do or don't, something bad will be the result.
And why does it feel like someone is watching me when really, everyone is minding their own damn business?
"Alli, table six." Our shift manager yells out from the other side of the bar, trying to get Alli's attention.
"One second," she replies as she dumps the glass in the trash.
I open my mouth to apologize but instead, I ask her something else entirely.
"Do you even miss her?" Her eyes close and I can practically feel the pain resurface in her chest.
"Of course I miss her. How can you even ask that?" Thick sorrow laces her voice, and I know I shouldn't have asked that; it isn't fair of me. But I seem to be the only one left onreadin the group chat labeleddealing with unsolved murders; am I really the only person who hasn't accepted the finality of what has happened? Maybe that has to do with the fact that I can’t fucking remember.
I swallow the lump building in my throat again and watch the way her eyes move back and forth, tears welling in the corners of them.
"I don't mean this to be a bitch, Alli, but it's easier for you to move on and sayI miss herbecause you weren't there to remember her any other way other than alive."
"No. That's not fair, Liv, and you know it." Irritation stretches along her face as she points a stern finger at me. A hint of anger hangs in her words and I immediately regret saying it, knowing that Alli loved her just as much as I did. And I guess in a way, neither of us can remember her any other way but alive. And I hate knowing that I can’t recall my last moment with her that night.
Seren Kavanaugh. The sought-after queen bee. The town’s loud and sassy sweetheart.
And my best friend.
Seren, Alli and I grew up together. Much like everyone else in this town, but we were best friends all through pre-k until the day she died. At first, it felt like Alli and I were in competition for Seren’s attention, but after a few years we realized that everyone was in competition for Seren’s attention so we pushed whatever minor differences we may have had aside and grew slightly closer because of it. It was nice having someone else to turn to when Seren got caught up in whatever popular girls get caught up in because shewas friends with everyone.
Since Seren’s death, Alli and I haven’t been as close as we were. We still talk almost every day but in a way, it feels like part of our friendship is missing. I guess because it kind of is. Seren brought us together and now, she’s gone. And I don’t mean to hold it against her like I have a monopoly on death, but I can’t imagine that it feels the same having only heard of the death and not . . . being there.
Guilt kicks up in my gut, and that distressing feeling rises in violent waves once more.
"I'm sorry, Alli. I don't know what's gotten into me. I think I just need a break from all this town tradition talk for a while. I feel like I’m constantly fighting with myself. Trying to unearth the memories while my brain is attempting to keep them shoved away. And then vice versa." I take a deep breath to try and steady my mind, wanting to focus on anything other thanthis.
