Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER TEN. summer bummer.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I NEVER BELIEVED IN THE PHRASE 'misery loves company', that was until I experienced the analogy first-hand. I find myself in the same place as I did exactly a week ago; leaving Dr. Fraser's office, with my phone in hand, constantly ringing Lola with the hope that she'll finally pick up. It's true, she failed to 'call me back whenever' as per her promise, and I've seen her a total time of one throughout these long, seven days — solely to join her on a dog walk that I hated attending, but I'd do anything for her company. Disappointingly, we uttered maybe three sentences at most in conversation, four of which were about Jason (now, I know the math doesn't add up, but it's hyperbolic. Lola asked me more questions about that fool than the total breaths we've both taken in our lifetime).
My jaw tenses when the call leads to voicemail for another time, and I hang up the second I hear that Godforsaken beep. Rather than giving up completely, I go to call her on FaceTime, hoping she'll answer this time and will provide me insight into what's better than spending quality time with her best friend. To my surprise, or lack thereof, the call is instantly declined. I'd be concerned if this was a one-off occurrence, but this has been happening ever since that night at the Boneyard, and I'm smart enough to piece together a puzzle that I know spells out 'trouble'. Rather, it spells out 'your best friend is a backstabbing cunt who deserves to be put in her place', but let me not jump to conclusions that hard before I sprain an ankle.
Therapy has somehow made me more miserable than usual — you'd expect it to do the opposite — leading me into a desperate state of searching for human interaction. My next option would be Steffie, though I've forced her into going out with me almost every day recently, and I'd imagine she'll want to follow in Lola's footsteps and take a break from me. If anyone has the right to be exhausted as a result of my company, it should be myself. Please, I've lived in this body for eighteen years, when will I be allowed to take a hiatus?
The next, dreaded choice I have is to contact Jason, and I hesitantly do so through video call again. My eyes stay glued to the text on the top of the screen whilst waiting for any form of connection, which is confirmed to be a farfetched version of reality as he also hangs up on me. I can excuse Lola's actions based on the fact that we've been inseparable for years and understandably need to breathe away from each other, but Jason is supposed to be obsessed with me. I'm the one who's meant to hate him, I cannot allow for the roles to reverse.
