Ugh. Shut up.
I writestableon the back of my hand in pen. If Konnor had not come back into my life, I would be stable and Erik would be stable and theuspart… That would still be kept in the dark. Maybe stable isn’t always a good thing.
Elise leans against the back of my chair, reading the word inked on my hand from over my shoulder. "What are you writing on your hand?”
I can’t hide the stupid word now that it’s there, so I just tick the final text book off my list.Hire books or hunt down second-hand ones. Tick.
I sigh, setting the pen down. "Nothing. A reminder."
"To be stable?"
"To buy oat milk."
"Coconut is better.”
Day Four:
I wake up to his message.
Konnor: 3 cans of beans, 8 rolls of toilet paper, 3 bottles of bourbon, 1 bag of pasta, 4 tomatoes, 1 onion, 1 clove of garlic, 4 frozen meals, 5 batteries, 0 spare light globes, 50% block of cheese.
No spare light globes. I think about him sitting in a dimming apartment, counting batteries and figuring out the percentage of cheese left in the block, then putting them into a phone that never acknowledges his troubles.
I try to listen in lectures, try to be deeply interested in every open text book in front of me, so I don’t need to look up very often until I am inside my dorm with Elise.
Then I try to sleep.
Day Five:
His message arrives in the afternoon.
Konnor: 2 cans of beans, 8 rolls of toilet paper, 1 bottle of bourbon, 0 bags of pasta, 2 tomatoes, 0 onions, 1 clove of garlic, 4 frozen meals, 3 batteries, 20% block of cheese.
Elise's other mum's contribution is forwarded to me as an audio note."Guilt is information, not instruction. It tells you something matters. It does not get to control your actions."
While alone in my dorm room, surrounded by nothing but Elise and Blesk, I listen to the note. Elise is at the library with her new study group, and being alone is lonely in a way I think I need. It’s quiet. My mind is… not quiet but isolated from too many influences. No green-eyed, dimpled boys making my head swim right now.
Lifting my phone, I press play on the audio note again. Her mum has a nice, strong voice; she sounds like the kind of woman I imagine runs laps around men in the courtroom. Powerful. This really explains Elise in all her talkative, opinionated glory.
My fingers move to the message dashboard and hit Konnor’s name on autopilot. I stare at Konnor’s message thread, with my finger hovering over the keyboard, deciding whether to text Konnor, ‘Are you okay?’
Pain spears my chest, and I let my action get controlled by guilt instead, without Elise looking over my shoulder, alone in this dorm room while a man I am apparently falling in love with eats two tomatoes and a single clove alone in a slowly darkening apartment.
Day Six:
Elise and I are already in bed—the sun is long over the reality of today just like me—when his text message arrives, and the feeling of sheer relief I experience causes me to actually smile.
I waited for it.
Konnor: 2 cans of beans, 7 rolls of toilet paper, 0 bottles of bourbon, 2 tomatoes, 1 clove of garlic, 2 frozen meals, 3 batteries, 10% block of cheese.
The bourbon has hit zero, and my emotions shift from relief to guilt to fear to desperation between the first word and the last. Then a helplessness… like the floor of a lift giving way for a split moment then levelling out, leaving you clutching yourself. I should be relieved that he’s run out of alcohol, but I’m not. I want to go buy him a bottle, leave it with Adolf.
Konnor: This hurts, Liz.
Konnor: Fuck, sorry.
Konnor: Blesk. Blesk. Blesk. Blesk. Fucking Blesk.
