“How did it go?” she asks.
“What?” I wasn’t really listening. It’s too hard to focus.
“How did your talk with Max go? That’s what you did after school, right?” She sounds so pleasant as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. How can people just be happy like that?
“It didn’t,” I say flatly. “He won’t…it’s just over.” Without really planning to I push my plate away and lay my head on the table resting on my right cheek. I’m still sitting on my hands. It’s not exactly comfortable but I don’t really care about comfort right now.
I feel like this despondency is never ending. It’s not like I was really happy before and now there’s no end, no light at the end of a tunnel. I want to curl up and hide until I don’t exist anymore.
“Noah!” I roll my eyes in my Mom’s direction. The urgency in her voice would suggest that she’s been saying my name for some time. I sigh and close my eyes. I’m startled by the vibration of the table under my head and the clatter of dishes as a fist slams down on the table.
“I will kill that kid,” Dad is saying. “I’m calling Mark Maxwell.” He sounds furious. It’s only then that I sit up because I have no idea how much Mark knows and I don’t want my dad talking to him right now.
“It’s not his fault. It’s not Max’s fault. It’s just me. Just leave it,” I leave my parents in the kitchen and kick my shoes off before crawling into bed in my clothes. My parents aren’t far behind.
“Noah, how long has it been this bad?” Mom asks gently stroking back my hair the way she does. I shrug in response. “You were supposed to tell us if you felt an increase in depression. Remember what the doctor said.”
“It’s not the drugs. It’s me. I’m just broken,” I murmur. “And I’m sad about Max. I was better off without friends.” My parents stay with me, Mom on the bed next to me and Dad at the foot of the bed. Eventually my eyes get heavy and I fall into a half sleep.
It’s like I’m not fully asleep but I’m not really awake either. It’s an in between. Sometimes I’m floating like I’m in a dream and other times I can hear my parents talking. If I was completely awake some of the things they say would upset me but I can’t really react as I am.
“I still think I should call Mark,” Dad says.
“Max is a good kid. I think there has to be more to it, don’t you?” Mom tells him. I drift again for a while.
“…says that we can’t just stop the drug. There’s withdrawal to consider. He wants to cut back the dosage,” Dad is saying the next time I become aware.
“How can we tell if it’s the drug or if it’s him though?” Mom worries. “What if stopping it does more harm than good? Maybe it’s time to take him to the hospital.”
“Let’s see how he is tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. You know how he can be when he’s not sleeping.”
“Thirsty…”I mumble through my half sleep.
“Oh, sweetie, I didn’t know you were awake,” Mom says. She gets me some water and helps me to sit up enough to drink it then I fall right back to sleep.
The next time I wake up my room is dark and quiet. Dad is sleeping uncomfortably in my desk chair and Mom is asleep on the bed next to me. It kills me to see them here like this. I try to remember the snippets of conversation I kinda overheard while I was almost asleep but it isn’t much. They must have called Dr. Cooper.
I’m supposed to let them know if I feel more depressed but honestly I can’t even tell anymore. Is this depression or just my broken heart? Have I ever really had depression or does everyone just over react when I get too sad for too long? As for the other thing Dr. Cooper mentioned…well, I haven’t thought about offing myself. I’m sure of that much. I wouldn’t do anything to myself but I kinda sorta don’t think I’d care if I did finally have the panic attack that killed me. I wrap my arms around myself and wait to fall asleep again.
When I wake up again it’s to the bright sunlight of Saturday morning. Someone opened my shade, no doubt so that the sun would wake me and I wouldn’t wallow in bed all day. I plan to wallow anyway. I pull the covers over my head and attempt to fall back to sleep. Sleep is good. I’m glad it’s finally come back to me. I could sleep the entire weekend away.
Of course Mom has other ideas and won’t let me stay in bed all day. I don’t think it has anything to do with her belief that no one should waste a day in bed. I think it bothers her to see me here in my room in bed still in yesterday’s clothes.
“Don’t you want to take a run?” she says. “It’s actually really warm today.”
“No, I don’t think my knee is ready for it yet,” I lie. I think I could probably manage at least a short jog if I felt like leaving the house. Eventually I get out of bed so she’ll leave me alone. She doesn’t leave me completely alone though. Both of them take turns checking on me every hour or so.
I sit down at my desk with the intention of doing homework but I take out my laptop and get online first. I want to read up on this drug I’m on. I need to know when I’ll start feeling better and what the likelihood of having any of those negative side effects is. I read countless cases of people attempting suicide while on this drug. Now, were they on the drug because they were already that way and it didn’t have time to work before they did this or was it the drug that made them do it? I’m okay though. I haven’t had those thoughts.
I click a link to an online article I find more disturbing. This one is about violent crimes, in particular, mass shootings. There are so many accounts of shooters that had a history of Paxil use or some kind of psychotropic drug that I immediately wonder what my doctor is thinking. For that matter, why is this drug still being prescribed? Then I consider the fact that I haven’t really had a panic attack in a while, at least for a few days, and I think maybe this is what I need after all. I’m just so confused lately.
I close my windows and clear my search history and try to get moving on this homework. I’m having a hard time concentrating. I can’t stop thinking about Max, about kissing him yesterday, about the way he told me being with me felt and the way he felt when I left. I wrap my arms around my middle as if that can somehow contain the pain. I realize I’ve read the same page over again in my history book and I still don’t know what I read. I decide to switch to calculus. There’s always comfort for me in numbers. Numbers follow rules. Numbers make sense.
I don’t know when I picked up the box cutter. I must have grabbed it when I was reaching for a pencil. It must have been in the pencil holder on my desk ever since I unpacked all of my boxes back in September. It’s only after I’ve slid the blade out of the handle and rubbed my thumb over its sharp edge that I realize what I’m doing.
“Shit!” I hiss as the blood falls onto my desk. It’s sharp, sharper than I thought. I think I put a new blade in it that day. I suck on my thumb as I head to the bathroom for a band aid. Once my thumb is taken care of I go back to my desk and pick up the box cutter again. I think of Tabitha. I slip the cutter into the fold of the back cover of my calculus book. I don’t know why it makes me feel good to know that it’s there but it does.
When my homework is complete and I’ve tried to force down some lunch Mom and Dad sit me down for a talk. I try to project inner calm. I try to shrug off last night as if it was just a one-time thing because I was upset with Max.
“I’m not depressed I’m just SAD,” I tell them. “If I’m happy no one accuses me of being manic. Why can’t I just be sad? It’s okay. I’ll get over it.”
Right before dinner Darcy calls. I’m not even really sure why I take the call because I don’t really want to talk to anyone. Maybe it’s because Darcy said she was the one that was going to take care of me. Tabitha is taking care of Max and Darcy is taking care of me.
“Why did you do it?” she gets right to the point. I go to my room and close the door.
“Why did I do what?” I ask although I have a pretty good idea of what she means.
“Noah, he was a mess last night. Either you want him or y
ou don’t but don’t play with him. That boy loves you so much…”
“I do want him I just CAN’T,” I interrupt her.
“Why can’t you? You guys were fine. Just apologize and make it right.”
“I just can’t. I had a pretty shitty night last night too if you really want to know.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Darcy suddenly changes the subject.
“Doing? I’m not DOING anything,” I confess.
“I’m taking you out and we’re going to have a good time and maybe you’ll feel like talking and maybe you won’t but I’m coming over there now so you’d better be ready.”
“Darcy, don’t…” but she’s already disconnected the call. I know she means it and I have no intention of leaving the house with her but if she’s going to come hang out the least I can do is shower and put on clean clothes. When I’ve taken the world’s faster shower and put on some fresh clothes Darcy is already there. She’s in the living room with my parents watching something on TV.
“Be home by midnight,” Dad says.
“Uh, I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
“Sure you are. I’m taking you to dinner then we’re going to hang out at Hannah’s house. You can’t mope around here all weekend. You do have other friends that want to see you,” Darcy says. I really want to argue but it seems like too much of an effort so I grab my coat and drag my feet out the door behind Darcy.
“We’re going to Hannah’s?” I ask as I get in the car. I barely know Hannah.
“Hannah’s parents are away and her sister is home from college. There’s a party raging over there as we speak,” Darcy says as she drives way too fast down the street.
“Darcy, no, I don’t want to be around a bunch of drunk people tonight. Just take me back home.”
“No can do, Blakely. I’m on a mission to cheer you up and I won’t rest until you’re cheered up…or until midnight what with your curfew and all.” Darcy laughs but I don’t see the humor.
“Did you ever stop to think this might not be such a good idea? I mean, Max knows Hannah better than I do. Don’t you think there’s a good possibility he’ll be there?”
“He won’t be there. I’ve already coordinated with Tabitha. Elliot and Tabitha are taking Max out tonight and they’re not bringing him to Hannah’s house. It’s all good.”
Darcy takes me to the diner but I’m not really hungry as usual. I have some pie that I pick at and hot chocolate. Darcy has an actual meal.
“You have the dietary habits of a five-year-old,” she tells me. I can’t muster a laugh. It’s still early when we’re done eating so Darcy suggests the movies before the party. I’m fine with that. I can stare at the screen at a movie I don’t care about and vegetate. That’s much better than being around people right now.
We walk from the diner to the theater. They’re only a block apart. Darcy loops her arm in mine as we walk and grips my upper arm with her other hand. There’s nothing romantic about it. It’s just a friendly gesture. It’s comforting.
“I’m really worried about you,” she says. When I don’t respond she continues. “Tabitha is worried, Elliot is worried. Elliot is afraid this all came out of something he said. He wouldn’t tell me what it is but I’m guessing you know what I’m talking about?” I nod and Darcy continues. “You’re not doing well at all, are you? I mean, you broke up with him but you’re in pain too. Why don’t you just make it right?”
“I AM trying to make it right. This is all about me trying to make it right,” I sigh. “We were best friends. That’s all we ever should have been. I’m just trying to put it back and make it right. He’s the one that’s fighting it.”
“Best friends can turn into more,” Darcy says. “It happens all the time. It happened with you two and there’s nothing wrong about that. I saw the way you looked at him. I saw how happy you were. I see how miserable you are now. Just make it right, Noah.” I’m saved from further discussion as we arrive at the theater.
Darcy tries to interest me in something from the snack bar but I decline. She does get popcorn and dumps Milk Duds in it. I don’t know why she bothers since I’m probably not going to eat any and I say as much.
“You’re not the only one that likes it that way, you know,” she teases as she leads me into the theater.
“Yeah, but you learned it from me,” I nudge her with my elbow and she can’t do anything about it because her hands are full. She does get me to eat some of the popcorn. The movie is a sci-fi thriller but I’m not interested. I put my head on Darcy’s shoulder and she puts an arm around mine.
“It’s going to be okay, Noah. You will live through this,” she says quietly in my ear.
“Promise?” I ask as if she really has any control over my life and feelings.
“I promise,” she says with conviction and kisses the top of my head.
After the movie we finally head to Hannah’s house. She lives on the outskirts of town so her neighbors aren’t very close. There are a lot of cars lined up along the side of the road. I do a quick scan for a blue Subaru and I’m relieved when I don’t see it. Of course they could be in Elliot’s car and I realize I don’t even know what Elliot drives. No, Darcy said they wouldn’t be here so it’s okay. It will be alright. I just have to get through a few hours of this and then Darcy will take me home.
The house is packed with kids when we get there. Most of them are from the high school but there are a couple of older girls and guys that are friends of Hannah’s sister. Darcy tells me there’s a rec room in the basement and that’s where the alcohol is but I decline. I have no idea what will happen if I drink on top of Paxil. Darcy won’t drink and drive so we just hang out upstairs.
There’s music playing downstairs but there are kids playing Rockband in the living room. I don’t know how they can hear the game. Darcy is one of those naturally happy and energetic people and she’s having a good time but I’m just sort of taking up space watching everyone else having a good time and counting the minutes until I can go back home.
We’ve been there for about an hour when Darcy hands me a red party cup. “I’m not usually one for peer pressure but you need a drink,” she says. I try to wave her off but she shoves the cup at me again. “Come on, Noah, just one to loosen up and have some fun,” she insists. I take the cup. I won’t get drunk on one beer.
After the first beer I am feeling a bit looser. I even play a round of the video game although I’m not very good at it. I decide one more won’t hurt. I drank an entire bottle of champagne on New Year’s Eve and I was pretty drunk but I didn’t get sick or anything. I decide to risk one more drink. Darcy comes downstairs with me. I don’t know who brought the first beer she gave me but it’s her first time downstairs all night too.
There’s a pool table and dart board and there are people playing both but mostly it’s about the music and the drinking games. I can’t really understand the game people are playing with cards stuck to their foreheads. They seem pretty drunk so they must not get it either.
There’s music playing too loudly and a group of people are dancing. Most of them aren’t really dancing. It’s not that kind of music. It’s frenzied, jump up and down, bounce off of each other kind of dancing. Suddenly I just KNOW he’s there. It’s like I can feel him. Did Darcy do this on purpose? She’s there by my side all of a sudden.
“Come on, Noah, let’s go,” she says urgently and grabs my arm to lead me away. I know then that she had no clue he was here tonight.
I don’t budge and I look around, heart pounding. I see him at the same time he sees me. He’s in the group of people dancing. He and Elliot are bouncing up and down and ramming each other with their shoulders. When he sees me he doesn’t stop dancing, he just bounces his way over to me. He’s got a strange look on his face, a mix of jeering and scowling. He starts singing in my face along to the song that’s playing. It’s a Pierce the Veil song that I’ve heard in his car at least a dozen times. The lyrics are too damned perfect but no
t in a good way and when he gets to the last line of the pre-chorus, the line that ends with “we’re done”, he puts his hands on my chest and shoves.
I stumble into Darcy and she catches me as Max bounces back into the dancing crowd…right into Mischa Mallory and the kiss they share when he does is definitely mutual. I’m frozen. I don’t want to see this and yet I can’t look away. There’s something fascinating and horrifying about watching them but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
“What are you doing here?!” Darcy yells and I realize Tabitha is standing next to us. “You weren’t supposed to bring him here.”
“Let’s get him out of here,” Tabitha says and by the way they each grab one of my elbows I know that they mean me. I let them lead me up the stairs and out of the house. We make it as far as the front porch and then I just have to stop and breathe. My head is spinning and it’s not from the one beer I drank. Max and Mischa? Already?
“I’m sorry,” Tabitha is apologizing and I can’t tell if she’s talking to me or Darcy because my ears are ringing and I can’t look at either of them right now. I sit on the top step and a few seconds later they each sit on either side of me.
“I’m sorry, Noah, we had no intentions of coming here,” Tabitha says as Darcy rubs a hand up and down my back.
“Why ARE you here?” Darcy asks. She’s really angry. If I had any doubts before I know now what a good friend Darcy really is.
“I tried to call you!” Tabitha shouts. “I called and texted and so did Elliot. Why didn’t you answer me?”
“We went to the movies first. I turned my phone off,” Darcy explains. “Why the Hell are you here though?” I can feel Tabitha look at me so I glance her way. She looks really apologetic.
“Mischa called Max and they were on the phone forever. Apparently she talked him into coming here. Noah, the way he was in there…you can’t take that too personally…”
“Can’t take it personally? How else am I supposed to take it?” I gasp.
“It’s not Max. He’s not himself. He’s so trashed right now I’m surprised he even realized you were here,” Tabitha admits.
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