I'm So Sorry

Chapter Ten

I narrow my eyes. Jessie isn't a great liar. She has this twitch, I've noticed. When she lies, her leg starts to bounce; right after she finishes talking. It's how I've caught her before. When she tells the truth, she doesn't bounce her leg.

I don't press it though.

"Wonder where she wandered off to then?" Olivia questions.

"Like you care," I say, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not going to keep fighting you, Ben. So fuck off." Olivia leans back in her chair. "You're no fun to fight anymore, I've sucked you dry."

The fire immediately jumps to life as soon as Olivia stops talking, and a few of us jump back, Jessie gasping loudly.

"Got it," Randy chuckles. He pulls the cig out from his mouth and scratches his chin. "That fire put up a fight, but it's all under control now. Just gotta keep an eye on it."

"Great," Sandra says, her hand over her heart. "Maybe next time warn us if you're going to light a fire like that."

Randy shrugs. "You knew. You saw me light the newspaper. That means 'Look out, kids. Fire!'"

Sandra just stares at Randy. So do I. He's acting even weirder tonight than he usually acts. He takes a puff of the cig and blows the smoke out over the fire, a sigh of relief sounding from him.

What the hell?

Randy

Today is a bad day. I'm thinking about her a lot and I can't shake her off. She's just there. It's like she's sitting in Shannon's usual seat and she's just smiling and teasing me like she did all the time. But I know she's not here. I know she's not coming back. I know that I'm just seeing all of this.

But is it wrong that I want to? That I pretend she's real?

In my head, she laughed when I made that comment to Sandra, and she called me smart when I said you have to be careful with fire. I said that for her. Because the fire makes me think of her.

Everything makes me think of her.

I just wish there was a way that I could let this go. I wish I could let her go. I haven't been able to do that for two years.

I haven't been able to let her go for two fucking years.

How is anyone supposed to let this go? I laugh to myself. They can't, it's literally impossible.

I take the smoke from my mouth and chuck it into the fire, knowing that I'll regret that in about five minutes. If I could, I'd smoke 24/7. I hate being without a cigarette in my hand for more than a few hours. Some people, like my family, don't seem to get why I smoke. Why I drink.

Why I do drugs.

It's easier this way, to distract myself with harmful things. Because the distraction keeps the real pain away.

People lie to me, and people deceive me.

People hurt me, and they hurt the people around me.

People watched me suffer.

People left me to die.

That's why I stopped caring about others. When I realized that no one cared about me, and the one person I cared about left me, I had to put my foot down.

All of these things that happened to me were thrown at me. I didn't make these choices. I didn't choose this lifestyle.

Before her there was no need to drink or smoke or hang out with the people I do. Before her I cared about what people thought. Before her? I was happy.

Now what am I? A miserable excuse for a human being. I'm just this extra person in Shannon's group because I can't be alone. Shannon knows that. She doesn't know why I like being here with all of them. She'll never know why. No one will. But she lets me stay with everyone. She's never objected to us being in the same friends group. It's strange that she would want me here.

It's strange that anyone could want me.

I sit back down in my chair and pick up my water, the taste of shitty nicotine leaving my tongue and the water refreshing for me.

I don't care anymore. I don't want to care.

I want to feel numb.

Too bad there's no drug that can do that permanently for me. Nothing seems to work on me. I can do whatever I want. It's never done anything for me. I've never been high. Never been drunk. I blame that on her. I blame everything that's wrong with me on her.

Except blaming it on her is useless and painful.

But it's the thing that makes the most sense.

I sigh. There's no use arguing over this. There's no use dwelling on the past. She's gone now. She's gone and I'm still here and I'm the one suffering. That's all I know.

I pick up the bag with the s'mores stuff inside and hold it up to the group. With fake enthusiasm I say, "Who wants a marshmallow?"

Shannon

How did I end up on the floor?