In middle school,I had this teacher who had us scrunch a piece of paper into a ball, and then tell us to smooth it back out. We spent ages rubbing the pages, pressing them against our desks, stomping on them. Anything to try and get the creases out, but nothing worked. The teacher told us that our words had the same effect on a person. That once they landed on someone, there was no getting them out.
It’s whatI did to you. I know you’ll never forget the things you heard or what I said after.
I won’t forget either.
I know no amount of remorse, no amount of I’m sorry will ever make this better for you. I want you to know that this is on me, not you.
I’m trying to do better.
Be better.
I stareat the rambling note, reading the words over and over again until the sentences blur, thinking about everything that led me to this moment, and why the poison in my life felt so diluted—sonormal—that I couldn’t recognize it for what it was.
The apartment gets dark, only the flare from the phone lighting up the room. I save the note and close out of the app, staring at the background display—a picture of Charlie. She’s standing at the end of a wharf, the sky blue and endless behind her, the surface of the dark ocean rippling in the wind. She’s looking at the camera, at me, her hair whipping wildly around her head and her smile wide, flashing that small gap between her teeth.
I trace her smile with my finger before darkening the screen and going to bed.
My phone ringsas I step out of my car, and my heart jolts—same as every other time my phone goes off, even when I know it won’t be Charlie.
It’s been over a month since the party, and it’s never her.
Checking the name flashing across the screen, I put the phone to my ear. “Gran? What’s up?”
“Don’t you ‘What’s up’ me, boy,” she immediately grumbles out. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I know you’ve been avoiding your mother, too.”
My mouth twitches, even when the last thing I feel like doing is smiling. “Avoidingis such a strong word,” I tell her. “I prefer selectively choosing not to be in the same location as you.”
“Oh, now you’re a smart alec. Well, I’m calling to tell you that you betterselectively chooseto be at my house for dinner tonight. I’m making a pot roast, and you’re the guest of honor.”
I huff through my nose. “Why does that sound like a bad thing?”
“It’s not all bad. Your dad isn’t coming.”
“You gotta take it easier on Mom,” I tell her, eyes flashing to the building in front of me, grimacing at what waits for me inside. “I’ll come for dinner.”
“Gracious of you,” Gran mutters. “And I’ll take it as easy as I wanna take it. She takes enough crap and lies from him. Someone needs to give her the truth to counteract it all.” A slight breath, hitched and sad. “Even if it hurts both of us.”
“Maybe there’s another way?—”
“Dinner will be served at six,” Gran cuts in. “Don’t be late.”
There’s aclickas she hangs up, leaving me listening to silence, and I sigh. As much as I am avoiding her, Gran also knows where I’m going today. This was a calculated attack, the wily old bat.
Shaking off the phone call, I go inside. I’m right on time, so the receptionist waves mestraight into the office.
Sandra’s standing at her desk, a polite smile on her face. “Dillon, hi. How are you?”
“Fine,” I murmur, taking a seat on the couch, watching as she grabs her tablet and takes the seat across from me. She’s wearing a gray tweed skirt today, her curly hair pinned back into its usual bun.
I lean back, hands twisting together in my lap, hating that I’m here. Knowing that I need to be, but still wishing I was any-fucking-where else.
“So,” Sandra starts cheerfully. “How has the last week been for you?”
“Same as usual, I guess. I’ve been keeping to myself. I haven’t seen any of my friends since that housewarming, though Jack keeps messaging. I’ve just been…You know, going to work, going home.” A wry smile. “Coming here.”
She nods, not giving anything away. “Did you do the homework I gave you last time?”
I scrunch my lips to the side. “I did some thinking,” I say slowly. “Gotta be honest, it doesn’t feel like I had some great epiphany or anything. I tried being as honest with myself as I could.”
