Obsessed

by NJ Flatman

  Chelsea had been one of my regular posse. That’s what we’d called ourselves through the years. A small group of us had clinged to each other during our last two years of high school and the bond hadn’t gone away as we graduated. We’d spent much of our time together doing all of the normal early twenties things that people did. Parties. Drinking. Going out. Talking about boys. Meeting them.

  It had been at her house that I’d met Spencer. A barbecue party that she’d thrown as an excuse to have a bunch of friends over and drink and celebrate summer. It was a normal routine for all of us. We had done it often. Spencer was new. He didn’t really do parties and he didn’t know a damn one of us.

  His friend had drug him along. Something he’d sworn he was angry about until he’d seen me. Out of all the girls at the party, including Colby, I was the one he’d noticed. I was the one he’d took on a walk. I was the one he’d ended up with.

  Lucky them. I was also the one he kept leaving. The one that had a constant broken heart. The one that had given up all of those fun things I had always been a part of so that I could be with him only to have him go again. The one that’d lost those friends.

  At least that’s what I’d figured until Chelsea had called. She wanted me there. In that house with them. Helping them to celebrate. How could I not be there? She’d been my friend since high school. We’d shared everything together. I had to be there for her, no matter what it did to me. And it’d do a lot to me. That was guaranteed.

  First of all, I’d be in the house. The one that held the memories of what would be considered the best and worst day of my life. The day I’d met him. The person that would change me and everything in my life. He would show me what love was. How good it could feel. How badly it could hurt.

  That alone was reason enough to skip her little party. Add in the fact that it was damn near guaranteed that Colby would be there and I had a double whammy. So far we hadn’t had a face to face. I’d finally answered one of her calls and pretty much told her to fuck off — only not so nicely. I just hadn’t faced her. I wasn’t really sure I wanted to.

  Of course there was the third and worst issue of them all. Spencer himself. I’d not heard from him since I’d told him that I spent the night with another man. It hadn’t really been a lie. Shit, I’d spent many nights with other men. It just wasn’t the way I’d made it sound. It had been nothing but an evening of drinking, dancing and drugs. Yes, technically I’d ended up spending the majority of it with Colt. But it wasn’t like that. In fact, there’d been about ten other people there. Normally Luke would of been one of them, but that night he’d went home with one of the stupid drunk chicks from Serendipity.

  He only did that about once a week. Enough to keep him happy so he backed off the flirting with me. The rest of the time he made sure I was okay. Seems it was always those rare nights he didn’t that something bad happened. Things like letting Spencer believe I didn’t love him and walk out the damn door right before I passed out. Which yet again was how Luke had found me — another moment I was glad I’d given him a key to the apartment.

  Spencer would probably be at the party. After all, the groom to be was his friend. The one that had drug him to the party to begin with. My friend Chelsea was marrying his friend Trevor. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  It was probably going to be the hardest night I’d had since I got back to Chicago. But I had to go. I couldn’t let down a friend like that. It would be cruel of me to skip her party because of my own personal issues. It wasn’t like they were just having a silly little barbecue. It was an engagement party. I had to be there. She deserved that much.

  “I’ll be fine,” I lied, keeping the details from Luke. He didn’t need to know what I was walking into or he’d try and stop me. While I appreciated it, I needed to be there. “Just be on call in case I need you.” Smiling, I let him know that he was still the go-to guy that he seemed to need to be.

  “Please don’t overdo it,” he pleaded and we both knew what he meant. I had my own stash. Keep it to decent amounts. Don’t end up comatose at my friends. Don’t kill myself. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t leave that subject alone. Jesus. Luke did it himself yet felt the need to lecture me about it. Hypocritical to say the least. “Be careful.”

  “I’m good,” I stopped the conversation by walking out of the room. It was time to get ready and I wasn’t going to put that off to argue with him about his fear of my drug problem. “I need to finish getting ready.”

  It was harder to get dressed for this little party than it’d been to get ready for anything else I’d done in a long time. These people were used to the old Avery. The one that barely wore makeup and kept her clothing choices to comfortable. They were accustomed to messy hair and barely painted fingernails that were bitten to practically nothing.

  That wasn’t me anymore. I took care of myself. My clothes were stylish and, according to several, sexy. My nails were done. My hair was straightened. I wore makeup — lots of it. Why not? It made me look nice. It made me feel good. Other people noticed.

  Somehow I had to find a happy medium. If I walked in looking like the Avery that hung out at Serendipity it would shock my friends. They wouldn’t know how to take it. But I couldn’t go back to what they expected. So I carefully and methodically found clothing and created a look that was a blend of the two sides of me— one of which I no longer wanted to associate with.

  “I figured you’d want to be prepared,” Luke appeared in the doorway, supplies in hand. He always knew what I needed and once more I wished I could want him the way he deserved for taking care of me. “You look nice,” he commented, letting me know that I’d done a good job.

  After allowing myself some time for the dope to kick in and a minute to enjoy it, we got ready to leave. Luke was going to drop me off on the way out and he would stay nearby so that I’d have a ride if I needed a quick exit. Otherwise, he’d be back at the end of the party to take me home.

  I’d tried like hell to get him to go with me, but he refused. Apparently he didn’t think they’d appreciate his presence given that he was a stranger that I’d brought home from vacation. He was probably right, but their opinion and his comfort didn’t matter to me nearly as much as my own sanity.

  My stomach clenched tightly as we approached the house, memories flooding my mind. Thankfully, I still felt somewhat numb to what was going on inside of me. I had the ability to deal with the flashbacks of a lighter and a walk down the street. As Luke stopped the car, I pulled out a cigarette— desperate for a few more minutes before I went inside and faced my issues.

  “I really wish you’d quit that shit,” he muttered, waving the smoke away from him. I’d tried and failed several times since meeting Luke because I knew it bothered him so much. The most I could do was cut back enough that I generally made it through our outings without the need to smoke. I couldn’t do away with it altogether. “It’s so unhealthy.”

  “I know you didn’t just say that,” rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh. Less than an hour before he was pushing a needle full of smack into my skin and he was going to lecture me about the health risks of a cigarette? “Sometimes you surprise even me.”

  “What can I say,” he laughed. “I’m a beautiful contradiction.”

  “Lord help me,” I shook my head at his term. “Sure you don’t want to come with me?”

  “I’m positive babe,” he answered firmly. “I’m not much for ruining someone’s big day with my presence. Even I am not that big of an asshole.”

  “Well, I guess I should get inside.”

  “Ave,” grabbing my arm, he ignored the look I gave him for saying my name that way. “Please call if you need me.”

  “I will,” I assured him, stepping out of the car and away from the only safety net I had. It was time to face my fears and I was going to have to do it alone.

  It wasn’t so bad at first. Colby hadn’t shown up. My guess was that it was because she’d been afraid I’d be there. She
didn’t want to have to face me and admit what she’d done. She was a bitch. A cowardly bitch that couldn’t even put down her own selfish needs for her friend.

  There were comments. How nice I looked. How they were sorry to hear about Spencer. Did I enjoy vacation? Who was the guy that’d come home with me? Were we dating? I tried my best to deflect them with shallow and basic answers. Things that I didn’t mind sharing. All the while avoiding what I didn’t want anyone to know.

  Things were going okay. I was even enjoying myself. The party hadn’t been a bad idea.

  Until it was.

  I could hear the laughter as I sat curled into the corner of the bedroom. If anyone had seen me - known that I was hiding in the dark - they would have worried. Even if they'd missed the needle lying on the hardwood floor beside me.

  I was glad no one had come looking for me. Of course, I was also hurt. It was as though I didn't really matter enough for anyone to notice I'd been gone that long.

  What kind of a fucking fool sat on the floor of someone else's bedroom, knees pulled up to their chest, and cried like a damned baby?

  It wouldn't be long. The pain would dull and my heart would numb. Only then would the tears stop long enough to allow me to go back and enjoy the small party with my friends. Not that they felt much like friends at that point -- considering they had no idea that I'd been missing from the party all that time.

  I hated myself in those moments of silence. Hated the person I'd been. Hated the person I was becoming. Mostly I hated the weakness that I had for Spencer.

  He had done this to me. I'd been fine. Hell I'd even laughed here and there. Then he'd shown up - not completely unexpected since he seemed to be every fucking where I tried to go lately and of course his friend was the host- and he'd ruined it all.

  He'd trapped me in the kitchen, leaving me unable to avoid his need to talk. Not that I minded talking to him, but I was tired of hearing the same shit. He loved me. He wanted me back. He would prove for the rest of his life that I could trust him.

  Blah, blah, fucking blah. I always said the same thing.

  "Words Spencer. They are only words. I'll believe them when the actions match."

  But that wasn't what he wanted to talk about. It had nothing to do with us, or him loving me.

  "She's in the hospital," he'd blurted out as I tried to squeeze past him, hoping only to escape the usual declarations.

  I froze in my tracks. She? Hospital? I didn't want to turn and ask him, but I knew I had to.

  "Who?"

  That was when I'd seen it on his face. The transparent look of pure and unadulterated pain. Heartache and despair overtook his eyes as they pleaded with mine.

  I stood there, unable to speak. I could feel it deep in my own gut. His devastation. His emptiness. It filled me, flowing through my body and breaking down every wall I had built.

  Fighting back tears, I'd moved towards him and rested my hand on his arm.

  "Your mother?" the question was more hypothetical. Of course it was his mother. She was the only one that had the power to completely destroy the man I'd known.

  Simply nodding, I watched his own eyes glaze from tears that he refused to let fall.

  "She hates me," he mumbled, unable to stop the torment in his own mind. "She told me that today," he finished, just so I'd know it was pointless to argue.

  Everything inside of me longed to comfort him, but I couldn't. I needed to wind my arms around his neck, pull him to me and hold onto him until the pain subsided. But he'd taken that from us.

  Instead, I stood there silently and let my soul collapse under the weight of his words and the darkness that he couldn't seem to step out of.

  I knew he'd speak when he was ready and I was paitent.

  "She's not going to make it. The doctor said she won't come back home," his words trailed off as he stared at the floor to avoid my gaze. "The last thing she said to me was that she hated me and I'd destroyed her life."

  Knees trembling, I'd stood there and let him continue to tell me his story. A slow replay of how his visit at the hospital had gone, complete with a few tears that escaped the clutches of his eyelids.

  I didn't allow myself to get too close. I was afraid of what might happen. He would suck me back into his world and each time I allowed that, he took another part of me with him when he left. But I wouldn't abandon him completely. Not then.

  "Can we go somewhere else?" he'd asked innocently. "I'm not really up for a party."

  His words had startled me back into reality. I'd been lost in worry and sadness for him and he'd surprised me.

  "I promised I'd..."

  "Oh," the anguish on his face only got worse. "It's okay Avery," he continued, unable to look up into my eyes. "I understand."

  As he turned to walk away, I grabbed his arm.

  "Spencer," I pleaded.

  "Yes?" He asked, hope shining in his brown eyes for the first time that night.

  "I'm sorry," I shook my head and walked past him and down the hallway that led to where I was currently hiding from the world.

  He didn't follow me and I was glad. Spencer couldn't see me like this. He could never know what I did. He could never know why. But I had to. I couldn't take it. I couldn't find my way out of the darkness without it.

  His pain had destroyed me -- again.

  Pressing the all too familiar numbers into my phone, I tried to quiet the sobs as I waited for an answer. I couldn’t handle any more of this. The party. Spencer. His pain. My pain. It had been okay at first, but now I just needed to escape and the drugs weren’t even seeming to help.

  “I need to go now,” I spoke quietly and softly when I heard his voice. He would know from my tone that I wasn’t okay. Words were slightly slurred as the drugs kicked in. I had enough to do more, but I couldn’t. It could be dangerous. And I’d be damned if I was going to let any of them know about it. They would have no more reasons to judge me.

  “On my way babe,” it was all he needed to say and he turned off the phone. Standing, I managed to straighten myself up and clean up my mess. I would walk out with a smile. Not one single person at the party — Spencer included — would know that inside what they could see was a shattered woman that would never be okay again.

  ~Spencer~

  The silence was killing me. Kev hadn’t said a god damned word in hours. Even Colby was silent. I was sitting in a room with the two most obnoxious and mouthy people I’d ever met and nobody was speaking. That didn’t happen.

  “Can somebody talk?” I blurted out. “I’ve never seen either of you quiet and now both of you are. It’s like hell froze over.”

  A smirk spread across Kevin’s face as his eyes lit up.

  “It prolly did.” He announced, proud of his joke. The problem was that I didn’t really understand it. “The moment her cold, dead heart arrived it prolly iced over like Lake Michigan in January.”

  “Oh my God!” Colby yelped, trying hard to stifle the laugh that was about to slip out. “That’s horrible.”

  “It was pretty bad,” I admitted, smiling at my brother. “But true.”

  That was all it took to ease the tension in the room. Within minutes the three of us were laughing uncontrollably at a subject that most would be appalled by. The death of my mother.

  It was something that should have upset us both, and in a way it did. Just not the way most people were upset by the loss of a parent. Likely because we weren’t grieving what we lost in her when she died. We were grieving what we’d lost in her when she was alive.

  That woman had been the hell of both of our existences. The one that’d abused us both — physically and mentally. She was the sole reason that we’d both turned out as fucked up as we’d become. She was the cause of Kev’s drug use and my fears.