Contractual
Page 22
“Okay, I understand. I’ll try you again in a few weeks. Hopefully you’ll feel better by then.”
“Yeah, well thanks for calling,” I respond before ending the call and falling back into my bed. I feel bad for blowing her off, but I’m not so fired up to hear any of the self-help bullshit today. If I wasn’t starving, I’d attempt to go back to sleep because I’ve been known to sleep entire days away. After Tyler died I suffered with bouts of insomnia, and the only thing that helped were the sleeping pills my doctor had prescribed to me after my near nervous breakdown. After a while he refused to keep refilling the prescription, so now when necessary I just chug Nyquil like I would a can of cola.
I get up, putting on the same jeans I discarded earlier, and head downstairs to the kitchen. I decide to peruse the contents of my freezer, quickly coming to find that there are no contents in my freezer. I’ve got to give it to my mom; she’s usually right on top of making sure there’s enough food in this house to keep me fed. I’ve never asked her to go grocery shopping for me, but after four years, I’ve kind of come to expect it.
“Cereal it is then,” I murmur to myself as I open the refrigerator door. I look around a moment before finally accepting the fact that there is no milk. I shut the door with a little more force than I intended to use. I can hear the rattling of whatever jars may be situated inside. I walk over to the island in the middle of the kitchen and lean against it, resting my head in the palm of my hands. I’m waging an internal battle—do I order food and pray that my mom actually comes through with groceries in the near future or do I act like an adult and go buy my own.
The mere fact that I have to contemplate this at all sickens me. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be, sitting at home with no motivation to do anything. I used to love life. I loved everything about it—the way the sun shines through the window in the morning, and the way it felt on my skin when I’d go for a walk. I loved spending time with my friends, taking trips, having fun. The girl I am now is a far departure from who I used to be, and I’m disgusted with myself. The fact that I’ve let myself get to a point where the simple act of buying groceries is cause for concern. Have I really become that much of a recluse?
“Fuck this.” I push off of the counter and go to grab my purse and car keys. I will not let something as mundane as buying food overpower me. This is where I need to draw the line. I need to start taking better care of myself; I shouldn’t have to be reduced to starvation because I’d rather wallow in self-pity. The drive to the grocery store just outside of town takes only 15 minutes; I choose this one with the hope that my chances of running into someone I know will be significantly decreased.
I grab a shopping cart and take my time slowly going up and down every aisle, putting things in my cart as I go. It’s silly but I actually feel a sense of power that I haven’t felt for years, doing something for myself, making choices for myself, getting what I want. Something as ordinary as going to the grocery store, a task that most people find boring or mundane makes me feel like I’ve just jumped a tremendous hurdle. I pay for my purchases and push the cart out to the parking lot, popping the trunk and placing everything inside. Just as I move to slam it shut I hear a voice from the past, an all too familiar voice.
“Everly?”
My body stiffens, and I can almost feel my blood begin to boil the instant I hear the deep timbre of his voice. An intense anger fills up every crevice of my body, making me feel nauseated and unsteady. Memories rush back into my head, opening a floodgate of emotions that I didn’t need to feel, especially not today. I slowly turn and come face to face with him—the sole reason that Tyler is gone today.
“Luca,” I say on a breath, but looking at him again breaks something apart inside of me. Something that I’ve been struggling so hard to keep under the surface, and I hate him for it. I hate him just as much today as I did when my life was obliterated four years ago, and suddenly I’m back there again, back to the place where I lost it all.