no savior.

no help

I sit back in my chair, "What's this got to do with me?"

"I was wondering if you would be willing to testify in Charlie's trial?"

"Hell no," I immediately shoot him down. I have a enough on my plate. I don't need court on it too.

"I don't think you understand the severity of this situation."

"I've been working with her I understand plenty."

"Then you know that there's no way this girl is fit to stand trial and the judge has given us enough extensions. This is not making it better," he pleads, "Ms. KJ please! She needs someone who knows her to speak for her if she doesn't recover enough! She needs you in her corner. More importantly, I need you to look her mother in the eye and tell that bitch no one's scared of her. Excuse my language."

"Get Ms. Lea to do it," I realize I sound like a kid, but I don't want to testify. As he tells me everything, my mind runs all the facts back. Fact: Charlie's mother was trash. Fact: Charlie's mother was bold trash. How else could you sexually assault your own daughter, then say you didn't and then believe you're going to get a jury to believe this lie as well? I didn't believe I was strong enough to look that type of evil in the eye my damn self, let alone be strong for Charlie too.

"I'm sorry," I apologize, "But I wouldn't be any help."

"I was afraid you'd say that," he hands me a white envelope, "Kaylie Jane Michaels, consider yourself served."

***

"So you're getting no strings attached sex, whenever you want, and you're mad about it?" Beck poured me a glass of moscato.

"You know," I turned to him, "I'm getting sick of y'all doing the thing where you repeat me and make me feel stupid."

After work, I'd driven to Beck's needing a break from Layne. Which of course he didn't really understand, but supported my headassery anyway.

"So you don't think you make sense either?" he takes a seat across from me, "Wow the dissonance."

"Can I stay here tonight?" I beg, "I'm starting to get...." I lower my voice, "Sore."

"You have to be shitting me, KJ," he rolls his eyes, "You can tell her 'no' you know?"

"No I can't!" I press, "The way she looks at me? I can't say 'no'," Even in her absence I can hear her voice, pulling me in, "It's like she's got a spell over me. Like I'm on drugs. Shit, I can't speak at all sometimes, Beck. She says jump and I'm already in the air."

"You do realize you've just described what it is to be in love, right?" he asks. I give him an annoyed look and he backs off, "Fine. You can stay. One night, only. And I'm not giving you my bed this time."

"Thanks," the doorbell rings and he returns with a pizza, his half with pepperoni and my half with jalapenos.

A large pizza and bottle of wine later, we're stretched in his bed, friendship style, with his head at one end and mine at the other.

"Can you explain it to me?" his deep voice still catches me off guard at times, "Like what---?"

"I get it," I exhale, "And I don't know, either. But she makes me feel things that I really thought were dead."

"I'm still hearing all positives, here," he teases.

"I know I know," I blow out a puff of air, partially wishing I had a blunt right now, "There's a lot of hurt there though too. Am I just supposed to pretend we don't have a past?"

"I think this is the part of the conversation you need to be having with her," he replies, "Good night."

"Good night."