“Do you remember the night Brandon drugged you?” I asked suddenly. I felt her surprise before she spoke.
“Well,” she said carefully, “he tried to drug you too. But yeah. I don’t think I’ll be forgetting that anytime soon.”
“If we hadn’t found you in time,” I continued, doing everything in my power to keep Austin’s name out of my mouth. “And I don’t know… let’s say the worst happened.”
“Blair,” Cherry started, but I pushed on.
“Just go with it,” I said. When she hesitated, then nodded, I continued. “If the worst happened. If he assaulted you. Would you want him to die?” Cherry stared at me. Her eyes softened in a way I didn’t like. In a way I recognized. She’d looked at me like this before. Pity.
“Blair,” she sighed, reaching over and gently pulling the empty beer can from my hand. She straightened where she sat, tilting her head as she looked at me more closely. “I know I said you didn’t have to tell me what happened until you were ready, but… I think you need to tell me now. You’re worrying me.”
I hesitated for only a second. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because the concern in her eyes hurt worse than the truth itself.
“Austin sold drugs,” I said quietly. I hated how simple it sounded.
Cherry wasn’t expecting that. I could tell by the flicker of surprise that crossed her face. “I thought he sold weed?”
“No,” I said. “He sold pills. The worst kind. All the things that almost killed Holden. He sold those.” I leaned back on my hands as I spoke, tearing my eyes away from Cherry and lifting them toward the moon instead. It hung there, bright and indifferent, like it had nothing to do with us at all.
“Fuck,” Cherry muttered after a moment. “Okay. I get why you’re hurt. Did he tell you at the party?”
“No.” I rubbed my eyes hard. “Some guy let it slip. Austin tried to tell me before. I just… didn’t want to listen.”
I rolled my eyes at myself, the memory sour and humiliating. I reached for another beer, half expecting Cherry to stop me. She didn’t. That surprised me more than anything else. Maybe she understood more than she was letting on. Or maybe she could see that this wasn’t about the beer at all.
“So you’re done with him,” she said carefully. “I get it, Blair. I really do. He wasn’t who you thought he was. But…” She hesitated. “I don’t think that’s all that happened. Is it?” I wondered, suddenly, how transparent I really was.
“He told me fate was crap,” I said, taking a drink.
Cherry blinked. “So what? I tell you fate is crap all the time.”
“I know,” I said quickly. “But the way he said it, Cherry…” I paused, exhaling slowly. “The way he said it made me believe it. It made me question everything. It made me question life. It made me question who I am. Who I was.”
I trailed off, the words dissolving before I could organize them into anything useful. Cherry didn’t interrupt me. She didn’t rush to fix it. She just looked at me. It was the same look she’d had the night Holden overdosed. The same look she’d worn when she realized my relationship with food wasn’t just a phase. Like she could see straight through me.
“I’m not even sure who I was,” I said finally, my voice quieter now. “I’m not sure about anything.” The defeat in my own words startled me more than the confession itself. And Cherry heard it too. “I’m not even sure who I was,” I said. “I’m not sure about anything.”
“What does that have to do with who you are?” Cherry asked gently. I took a breath, searching through the fog in my mind for something solid.
“Everything I did… everything I was,” I said slowly, “it was all because of what happened, wasn’t it? I didn’t have fun because Holden had too much fun. I didn’t worry my parents because he did. And I was okay with that. I really was. Because I thought fate knew what she was doing with Holden. I thought everything that happened was happening for a reason.” My voice wavered, but I kept going. “I found Holden minutes from death because fate planned it that way. I believed that. I believed that one day we’d look back and understand why it all happened. That once everything was fine… it would be my turn to live.” I swallowed. “But maybe everything isn’t going to be fine. Maybe the next time Holden uses, he’ll die. And then what?”
“Blair,” Cherry said softly, reaching for my hand.
“And then I would’ve been this person for nothing,” I continued, my chest tightening. “I still wouldn’t know who I am. I thought I did. I really thought I did. But I think she was a lie. And that scares me.”
“You’re trying to find yourself,” Cherry said. She wasn’t asking. She knew.
“I just want to be someone,” I said quietly, taking another drink.
“But who?” Cherry asked. “Who are you trying to be?” I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know. “Hmm?” she pressed gently. “Who are you trying to be, Blair? The answer’s right in front of you. I think you know. You just don’t want to see it.” I looked at her, confused. Her words didn’t connect yet. “The alcohol,” she said, gesturing toward the beer. “The cigarettes. This random drive to nowhere. You’re trying things on.” I blinked, waiting.“You’re not me,” she continued. “You’re not Austin. You’re not Henry.” She paused, letting it sink in. “You’re not any of us, Blair. And that’s a good thing.”
And suddenly, it was obvious. I hadn’t been finding myself at all. I’d been trying to build another character. Borrowing traits. Copying behaviors. Reaching for identities I’d only ever watched from the outside. That wasn’t freedom. That was just another kind of cage. And that realization didn’t comfort me at all.
“I get it, Blair,” Cherry continued softly. “I really do. But…” She stopped mid-sentence. It was abrupt, like something had yanked her attention away. Her gaze dropped to her side, and I watched her expression shift as she reached for her phone. “Shit,” she muttered, shaking her head. She lifted the screen closer to her face, her brow furrowing. “I have like fifteen missed calls.” She glanced up at me. “My phone was on silent.”
“Oh,” I nodded, my voice distant. I didn’t really care. My eyes drifted back up to the sky, tracing the shape of nothing.
“What…” Cherry started, then stopped again. Her voice changed. Sharpened. “Hey.” That got my attention. I turned back toward her. She had the phone pressed to her ear now, her posture rigid, her free hand resting uselessly in her lap. She looked at me with a nervous hesitation that made my stomach tighten. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Yeah, she’s with me.” My chest hollowed.
