Picture Perfect

19.

~Sam~

"This situation may not be perfect. But if you love me, you'll be okay that it is what it it is until we make it. Together." His bold blue eyes break the shaded windows to my soul for the millionth time.

I simply nod to show some sense of solidarity.

But I'm not okay with this, I never will be. I'm not okay with no longer having an obligation to learn whatever the fuck Uncle Sam wants to teach me. I'm not okay with not having to hunt my friends down at lunch to tell them the latest and greatest on Greta Tremble, the biggest bitch Parkland Middle has ever known. Always starting shit with other people.

For someone so young, she certainly has so many problems. Last I heard she was wondering what to do about an STD she caught from a guy in grade 11, a friend of her brother who has fucked half the girls in the grade below him.

And we talked about her. I talked about her, and fucking look at me. Pregnant at 13, with no baby to show for it, because I'm just like her, a hoe. And no matter how much I try to justify what I'm going through and pretend like this shit isn't my fault, it is. I'm broken, I'm desperate, I needed attention and I wanted it no matter how I got it. I just wanted to feel something other that suffering.

And what if it's the same for Greta? What if it was the same and she had the chance and got the help she needed so she that she could change?

"But do you love me Travis? I doubt it. Because if so, why do you share me with world the way you do? You marked me up, so that no one else could have me, that's what you said. It was my protection. But from what? From who? The stuff you make me do... I lost my baby..."

He hits me to stop me from talking further.

"Every word you say I just believe so call me Ms. Naive." I'm interrupted by the very on-topic rapping that Elijah is doing to some Jorja Smith song. She's been obsessed with UK artists lately.

I turn my head to look back at the babies who are playing with each others fingers as they allow themselves to be squeezed in safely by the belts of their car seats while they reach for one another.

"You okay Sam? You've been really quiet."

"I need another favor."

I thought I lost a friend a few months back. After the incident when I hired her to help me fix Garrison's fuck up, so that he'd still have a career and some sense of normalcy in his life. They were all really mad with me about that, and for a few weeks, Garrison and I were simply clients and nothing more.

Elijah and I weren't hanging out, the little lunches Garrison used to get invited to by Jabari, with two of the rookies who play on the team, stopped even. He was ousted from the team with most of them just feeling like he did what he did, even though it was never confirmed by Jabari or Kyler.

I was sad. I had no one to talk to, or turn to, other than Garrison.

And I'd like to say that he and I have kind of found our footing again. We've gotten close, we can speak to each other for long periods of time and laugh when we come across one another in the house at random times when we are usually apart doing our own things. We have started eating together again and I'd be lying if I sat here and said I didn't enjoy his company of late.

But it doesn't change the fact that I'm being forced to endure it when I'd rather be spending that time with someone else. Someone I haven't been able to talk to, text, hug, hold, fuck, anything.