Lucid

by Gabrielle Castania

  My bag was still packed, for the most part, but I’d made something of a mess when I searched for my comfortable clothing in the middle of the night. I couldn’t bear to be with him for a moment longer than I had to, feeling a breakdown barreling toward me. I wanted to get out of there before it happened, so he didn’t realize that his friends had been right all along, that maybe, I was a lunatic after all. I could hear all of their haunting jabs coming back, picking at my scabs, the wounds bleeding again after I tricked myself into thinking that they’d healed.

  “Yeah, there’s something wrong,” I told him as I tried to figure out what I’d taken out of my bag and where it ended up. “Something is definitely wrong.”

  “Well, I mean, you know you can talk to me about anything, Ash. What’s going on?” Joey asked, rising again and drawing nearer to me, not seeming to gather that I wasn’t exactly in the mood to chat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the suspicion growing on his face. “Is this about last night?”

  It wasn’t directly about last night, but I’m sure sleeping with him wasn’t going to have made things any easier, so it certainly didn’t help my dilemma. I flipped my hair over my shoulder so I could get a better view of him, pausing what I was doing to ask, “How’d you know?”

  “Not to sound like a stereotype, but yours isn’t the first v-card I’ve ever taken, and sometimes, girls get kind of shaky afterwards.” He crossed his arms over his toned chest. “It’s nothing we can’t work through together, though. Maybe sex is a no-go for a while so we can figure things out. Like I told you before, we don’t need it. It’s awesome, but it’s not a necessity, and it’s also not a reason to avoid me.”

  “Sex is going to be a no-go forever,” I told him coldly as I crammed my things into my bag, not minding where or how they wound up, too into leaving to care.

  Joey squinted at me. “I can love you without sex, but would you mind explaining?” I wished he would look someplace other than at me, because the weight of his gaze as it intensified was becoming too much for me to handle. “I’m not upset, but Ash, I don’t understand where this hostility is coming from.”

  “I’ve made some really bad decisions recently,” I told him, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to form in my eyes. I didn’t want to hurt him, but it seemed unavoidable, because I’d somehow overlooked that the guy who was totally in love with me might have a problem with just letting me go. “Because of that, I think it might be in my best interest if we just cooled it for a while. I promise, this isn’t anything that you did; it’s all on me.”

  “Oh,” he snorted, “that’s not cliché or anything.” The gravity of what I was saying seemed to hit him quickly enough, though, when I didn’t make any attempt to bring back our usual levity, and he seemed to realize that I wasn’t kidding. “Wait a second, are you breaking up with me?” Thankful that his question eliminated the need for me to say the words I couldn’t muster the strength to say aloud, I nodded solemnly. His face shrunk, and he collapsed in on himself for a moment. I turned to him, wanting to at least give him the respect of facing him when I broke his heart, but he looked away from me as soon as I did. “I can’t believe this. I’ve never been broken up with before. I don’t even know what to do right now.”

  The hurt in his voice cut me deeply as well. I really, truly did care about Joey, but his life was just too much for me to handle. I smiled feebly, thinking back to our first date, when he first told me why he liked me. “Well, you told me a long time ago that I was different than anybody else you ever dated, so why not end things differently, too?”

  “Because there isn’t supposed to be an end!” He crouched beside me, urgently putting a hand on top of mine to stop me from packing my things. “Just last night, everything was great, and now, that’s – that’s just it? We’re just over?” Silently, I shook my head, and his jaw slacked a bit. Breathing heavily, not quite laughing and not quite gasping, his entire being wrought with disbelief, he pressed on. “Could you at least explain it to me? I woke up twenty minutes ago feeling closer to you than ever before, and now you’re saying you just want it to be over.”

  Though all I really wanted was to just leave and be done with all of this, I couldn’t help but to feel a little touched when I looked into his eyes again. He looked genuinely devastated, so lost and so hurt. I tucked my hand into his, smiling pathetically at him in an attempt to stave off my tears. “I cannot thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me in the past few months, but the thing is that I never really asked for any of this.” Seeing his heart breaking before me was too much for me, and when tears began to well up in his eyes, it broke me, and I began to finally cry. “The life I have right now, the life I have with you, it isn’t right for me. I wanted friends, yes, but I didn’t want friends who only like me because of who I’m dating. This person isn’t who I am, and I’m tired of pretending that she is. I miss who I am without your friends and your massive influence. I can’t act like I’m okay with it any longer than I already have.”

  He suggested frantically, his voice becoming hysterical as he tried his best not to cry, “Then stop talking to them! Make it clear you’re done with them and ride it out for a few more weeks, and then school will be over and you won’t ever have to see or hear from any of them ever again. Don’t leave me because you don’t like them!”

  I choked back a heavy sob, trying my best to keep it concealed in my tightening chest. “They’re part of you, though, Joey, and I’m not one of them. I never have been, and I kind of hate myself for pretending that I was. I was never supposed to be part of this world, and I only tried it because I love you. I’m just afraid they’ll assume my decision is also yours, and I don’t want to risk them hating you for it, risk you hating me for costing you everything you’ve ever known.”

  “I don’t hate you or I wouldn’t have suggested it. Even if they do get upset with me for your decision, let them – I stand to lose more with you than I do with all of them. Ash, I can survive without my friends, but I love you. You make me happier than anybody else ever has, and now that I know how loving you feels, I don’t ever want to stop.” Thinking quickly when he noticed my bag was almost fully packed, he reached into it, grabbed a handful of whatever he could find, and tossed it carelessly back out onto the floor, efficiently buying himself another minute with me. “If you want to be the lonesome artsy girl, go for it! I think it’s sort of hot, to be honest with you. Be who you want to be and do what you want to do; don’t let me and my life hold you back.”

  “I’m not letting you hold me back,” I told him as I began to collect my things again after his panicked tantrum, inching away from him to prevent any repeat mishaps. “That’s why I’m leaving, because everything about your life holds me back, and I’m sick of feeling like the real me is trapped someplace inside whatever all of this is.”

  He fumbled over his words for a moment, stammering dumbly. “I just said to be yourself, so how is that me holding you back?” He raked his hands up into his wet hair as I continued to pack. “I can’t follow your logic here, so help me understand all of this.”

  I shook my head, zippering my bag shut once all my stuff was inside it. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

  As I rose from the floor, unsure of where I was going or how I was getting there, Joey cried out, “Come on, Ash!” He, too, shot to his feet, grabbing me by the shoulders and squaring my body with his. He stared into my eyes again so I could see the feelings he was trying to convey, the both of us crying at that point. “What I don’t think you realize is that I love you, so much. You’re the exact person that I’ve always hoped for; you’re literally every dream I’ve ever had come true. That’s why I’ve always call you Stellina, because you’re my shining star, my outlier, the one that stands apart from it all. I like you because you’re not like those people. You’re the only person I’ve ever been able to see myself with for a long time, and I don’t want to think you can just walk away from what you and I have, because I sure th
e hell can’t.”

  While his words were sweet, my mind was made up. “I talked to an old friend last night, and he helped me realize just what a wreck I’ve become. Now it’s time to fix myself, and I can’t do that if I’m with you.” I shook my head, trying to fight my conflicting emotions. “This person isn’t me. The girl you met at The Arigato on that first night – the quiet, sort of awkward one who liked to paint and read, who didn’t try so hard to fit in – that’s me, and I need to get back to her, because I really hate who I am now. You’ve done a lot, and it means the world, but I need to start mending the damage we’ve just kind of covered up and ignored. I care about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone before, but for my own well-being, I just can’t do this.” I squirmed from his grip and worked my way to the door. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to hurt you, but I just can’t keep on like this.”

  “Ashley, stop it!” he yelped pathetically, voice loud but not quite yelling at me. Never before had he raised his voice with me, simply out of love and respect, knowing how being yelled at made me feel, and even then, he refused to start. Before I could reach the door, he grabbed onto whatever he could, latching onto the handle of my bag. “Please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me.” His voice became as desperate as the sullen tears in his eyes. “I want to help you get better. I love you with all my heart. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  I turned to him as I opened the door, gently removing his hand from my bag. His eyes burned into me, screaming with heartbreak and uncertainty, and it just made me cry that much more. Without tone to my voice, I looked him in the face and softly informed him, “You’ve helped me enough already, Joey. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me over the last few months, but now, it’s time for me to go.”

  Offering him one final, weak smile, I stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut, stalking off toward the elevator without once looking back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mum was so excited when she answered her phone that morning, eagerly awaiting a full run-down of my night at prom, but I didn’t tell her much. I’d fast-walked down to the ladies’ room in the lobby and was trying to control my emotions long enough to ask her to come pick me up from the hotel. She rushed downtown to grab me, and, suffocating under the weight of everything that was happening, I broke down while we were in the car and talked her ear off the entire way home, spilling the beans on every single thing that had happened in the past few months. The moment we got out of the car, she pulled me into a tight hug and let me sob into her blouse. She suggested I take the day to catch my breath a bit, and the following day, we could talk about my options. I gave her a final squeeze and thanked her for the help before trudging up to my bedroom.

  I spent the rest of the day hiding out in there with Tragic Magic in my ears and a paintbrush in my hand, working on that cartoon project that was due the next day for Art. I’d forgotten all about it until Protoccelli reminded us in class on Friday, so I figured I ought to get started on it. When Mum told me as we walked in that Roger still hadn’t come home yet, I began to see the beginnings of the piece in my mind, and I developed it enough to begin a rough idea for my work. Surrounded by the sound of the music, the feeling of solitude, and the smell of Mum baking cookies to try to lift my spirits a bit, I expunged all of my pent-up emotions right onto my canvas. If Protoccelli wanted the things and the moments that defined me as this mess I called a person, he was going to get them.

  Very few things were distinct about the background, which was a cluttered mess of shades of gray that spewed bold, black laughter, but certain parts of it, I made sure were clear. One of them was Ellie, standing with her arms crossed and face red, steam rising out of her ears. In the foreground, I painted Roger’s face onto a hideous monster, roaring loudly with blood dripping from its fangs. Atop his shoulders were two little creatures, one crying and one looking very anxious. Crumpled under one of the monster’s enormous feet was Mum, facedown in a heap, crushed. As for me, I was tucked away in the corner closest to the viewer’s perspective with tears careening down my cheeks. Danny, wrought with concern, was on one side of me, while Joey, half-turned and yelling at the scene happening behind us, was on the other.

  When I walked into school the next day, just like they had been after our first date, every pair of eyes was on me as I navigated the halls, the whispers difficult to ignore. When it involved someone as big as Joey, news of his life spread like wildfire. The comments coming from The Peanut Gallery ranged from curiosity over the breakup, to sadness to see our whirlwind romance dispelled, to outright suggestions that I’d always been too much of an outcast to ever really stand a chance with him.

  Though I could feel everyone critiquing me for what happened over the weekend, nobody’s judgment made an impression on me quite like Ellie’s. She didn’t say a word to me during Calculus, but god, did she stare. Each time she looked at me, her expression was different – sometimes she looked angry, other times sorrowful, and even sometimes sympathetic. Had we both suddenly become single a week before, we’d have gotten ice cream and chick flicks and blubbered about our breakups, but strangely enough, I didn’t quite see it happening as things stood between us.

  I trudged my way through the day, finding solace in thinking that graduation was less than two weeks away, after exams were finished next week. I didn’t have any tests to take during finals week, so, come that Friday, I would be free of everyone for a week, deal with them one more time at our graduation ceremony at an auditorium downtown, and then be done forever. As comforting as it was to think about, it didn’t change the fact that the popular crowd still sat right behind me in Art. They spoke among themselves, loudly as usual, but when I walked in, they fell silent, watching me take my seat in front of them without so much as turning around. Once it was clear I wasn’t going to say anything, they began to talk again, this time in hushed whispers I tried to ignore.

  It was presentation day, and although I was supposed to be paying attention to my classmates and supporting them as they showed off their last big project, I couldn’t stop zoning out. I was so tired in so many ways and I just wanted to go to sleep, preferably forever so I didn’t have to deal with all of this anymore. During the final minutes of the period, I was drawn from my thoughts by the sound of Protoccelli’s voice.

  “And last but certainly not least, Ashley.” My head snapped up, and he smiled as he motioned for me to join him at the front of the room. “Come on up and show us your cartoon project.”

  I tried to ignore the awkward glares from my classmates as I paced up to stand before them and accept their judgment. With a defiant expression, I all but slammed my canvas down onto the display easel Protoccelli kept for presentations, and I jammed my hands into the pockets of the hoodie I wore that day, despite that it was actually really warm outside as summer kicked off. “We’re supposed to show off what makes us who we are for this project, so feast your eyes on my cartoon hell,” I stated bluntly, too done with everything to care what would happen if I swore in class.

  Ben, the one who antagonized me the most before everything began with Joey, wasted no time reverting back to his old self. “If I were as crazy as you clearly seem to be,” he teased, “I’d say that’s Joey and the dude from Tragic Magic there with you.”

  “And right you would be, asshole,” I shot back, not minding the gasps of surprise that echoed out around the room, like my classmates honestly expected my new friendships to survive my headline news, front page-worthy breakup. “See, Ben, you and your whole gang are all back here,” I said, running my finger along the laughing gray blobs in the background, “out of sight but never out of mind, always there, always judging. It would be wrong of me not to include my friends in this, wouldn’t it?”

  Protoccelli advanced carefully, not taking his eyes off of my painting as he asked with palpable concern, “What are the other pieces, Ashley?”

  From there, I lost control. It was like I was vomiting, exactl
y like the presentation about Danny had gone earlier in the year. I couldn’t stop myself and I didn’t care to try.

  “This is Ellie Dalhart, who was my best friend until I lost sight of myself and turned into one of you, and I regret that decision with every fiber of my being because, frankly, I think you all suck. My father is the giant monster, and on his shoulders are my depression and anxiety. Then there’s my mum down here on the ground, and my father is crushing her because he’s super mean all the time. Then here’s Joey, my newly ex-boyfriend, defending me from all of this in his own way, along with Danny, the singer of Tragic Magic, more concerned about me than anything else that’s going on.” I heaved a sigh once I finished blabbering. I’d numbed myself to the point of feeling absolutely nothing, not even the self-pity I’d been wallowing in the day before when I actually painted my piece. “So, there you have it, my shit-show of a life. Any questions?”

  Luckily for me, the bell rang before my classmates could manage to wipe the shocked expressions from their faces, and everyone gathered their things in silence and began to flood out into the hallway to escape the heavy, thick air in the room.

  I began to grab my stuff as well, not at all concerned about the canvas that I didn’t really want to take back. I was almost home free when Protoccelli’s voice rang out from behind me. “Don’t you dare walk out that door,” he demanded sternly. He sounded more severe than strict or cruel, and accordingly, I froze in place. “Given your presentation, I wouldn’t be justified to let you walk out of here without checking in with you to follow up on everything.”

  I replied dryly, continuing on toward the door, “I told you everything there was to tell during my presentation. There’s no more to say, so, goodbye.”

  Before I got there, though, Mr. P continued. “Leave this classroom and I’ll have no choice but to write you up for insubordination, and that’s not a risk I want to make you take this close to graduation. Don’t make me do that to you, Ashley.”