I trace the seam of my pants as I listen. I know Cleo’s right. I know that isolating yourself, especially after losing something huge, is the worst thing you can do. But once you’re comfortable in your own silence, the noise of other people can feel deafening. Threatening, even.
“I go out,” I insist, but Cleo just stares at me.
“Going to dinner at your parents’ house doesn’t count as ‘going out’.” She curls her fingers into air quotes.
I frown. “I went to—”
“Doctor’s appointments don’t count either.”
I toss my back against the base of the couch and huff. “Well, if you’re going to put all thesestipulationson it,” I mumble, and Cleo lets out a soft laugh.
She sits up, grabbing her phone from her pocket and tapping at the screen. The soft clack of her nails fills the air before she holds it out to show me. It’s a Halloween party flyer, all orange and purple, with little doggie ghosts decorating the sides.
I eye it for a second before looking up at her. “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” I say flatly.
Cleo’s eyes narrow, expecting me to surrender. I don’t.
“See, I’m more of a Christmas person, so—”
“Oh, come on,”she groans, tossing her phone onto the floor beside us. “Don’t you think it’s time you did something? Like…” She eyes me up and down with that same judgmental look Socks gives me when I say the word “no”.“Anything?”
I sigh again, glancing over at the cat, who’s lounging on the notes like a king on a throne. Maybe he’s got the right idea. Cats don’t need friends. If they don’t get along with other cats, people just call them independent and feed them kitty Chex Mix while they bask in the sun. They don’t get dragged to parties or told that they “need other cats.”
“Come on. My friends will love you.” Cleo grins. “And I’ll do the dishes for a week.”
She sings the last few words like we ever have dishes to clean, and I can’t help but smile, even though I don’t want to. Maybe Cleo’s right. It would be nice to go somewhere besides my parents’ house once a week. It would be nice to actuallyhavefun. But I’m not sure if that’s even possible anymore. Every memory of being happy, especially with other people, just feels… tainted now.
I chew the inside of my cheek, wrestling with the decision. Cleo slips her hand into mine, her fingers warmer, even through my gloves. She squeezes gently.
“I won’t make you,” she says, quieter now. “But I think it’d be good for you.”
My stomach twists, an ache throbbing at the base of my throat. The voices in my head remind me of what happened last time I had friends—the way it all fell apart. But when I look at Cleo, all I see is her. And, for the first time in a long while, I want to believe it could be different.
I tilt my head against hers, letting my eyes fall shut for a second. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
Nine
Peyton
FINAL CHAT FR THIS TIME
HAMMIE
Don’t forget to wear your costumes tonight!
CAPTAIN CLARKE
You already know ;)
CAY
I forgot to buy something. Anyone have one I can borrow?
Z
I have a witch hat.
But you have to give me a lap dance for it.
