He was so angry. Oscar has always been the reserved one, the quiet one – but I could feel his disdain like a red-hot poker shoved straight between my ribs.
He’s never directed it at me before.
And I can still taste his scent, as if it’s lingering on me. Ginger, cayenne pepper – unexpectedly spicy, but with depth, too.
I swipe my hands over my face as I slowly get to my feet. I didn’t even get the groceries I wanted. I left a mess behind.
If I don’t want to get banned from the store too, I’ll have to go back.
I don’t trust myself with the bike yet, so I trudge back in on foot. I keep my eyes peeled for Oscar, but I don’t see any sign ofhim. Henry frowns at me when I push the door open, an apology on my lips.
He points to a bag on the side before I can speak, his lip curling. “This is yours.”
I pause. “I came to clean up the mess. And to apologize. I’ll pay for the jar.”
He shakes his head, muttering to himself as he pushes the bag. “Oscar cleaned up already. He said you’d be back for this.”
I stare at the bag before opening it and staring in. “Uh. Thanks.”
Everything from my basket sits inside, as well as an unbroken jar of the sauce I was looking at when I sensed him behind me.
“If you’re done,” Henry says coolly. “I have customers.”
The store is empty, but I nod, taking the bag.
I wait until I’m outside to unfold the note. Oscar’s spiky, slanted handwriting stares back at me.
You owe us this, Kenny.
And his phone number.
He wouldn’t know I don’t have a phone anymore. I wonder how many times they’ve tried to contact me. Assuming I’d blocked them.
I run a hand over my face.
I thought I had this figured out. That I’d manage these last few months, and then quietly disappear. That nobody would notice.
But if they’re here – that threatens to derail every part of my admittedly chaotic plan on approaching my own death.
It’s not like it comes with a step-by-step fucking guide.
I take a breath, gripping the bag of groceries he went back and paid for. It doesn’t have to change anything. I’ll avoid them as much as I can.
They’ll leave me alone once they realize I’m not going to tell them anything.
And either way, soon it won’t matter anyway.
Theo
“Mom?”
She doesn’t respond to me as I ease my way into my parent’s master bedroom. The curtains are closed today, which is never a good sign. “Did you have a good time with Elsie?”
She stirs in the bed as I open up the curtains closest to the door to let in some light, her voice hoarse. “Close those.”
I don’t. Instead, I sit on the side of the bed. “Did something happen? Nia said you came home upset.”
She’s normally brighter if she gets out of the house, but there’s a heaviness in the air that tells me today is not one of the few good days she gets.
