fifteen

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"Psst, David," I whispered, lightly poking him on the arm to try and wake him up. He didn't even move an inch, so I repeated a little louder, "David! Wake up!"

David groaned, barely lifting up his head to mumble, "What time is it?"

Mona Sofia Greene, you will not swoon over David's deep, raspy morning voice. You will not.

"Um, like, two in the morning," I replied casually, holding back my laugh when I saw David's face go from slightly confused to what the fuck?. "I'm hungry."

"That's what you get for ordering a grilled cheese for dinner," he said in a duh tone, not even shifting in the bed. "What'd you wake me up for? Just go get something."

"David, I'm not fucking rummaging in your cabinets alone while your brother and sister in law have sex beside me," I snapped, frustratedly pushing my hair off my face. I had an issue with my hair; I loved it long, but anytime I wore it down, I just got angry if even one tiny piece of hair grazed my face. Having to talk to David at this time of night made my anger skyrocket tenfold. "Come downstairs."

"Ask me nicely," he propositioned back, pushing himself up off his stomach to raise a single eyebrow at me daringly.

"Are you my dad? Come downstairs with me," when he didn't move a muscle, I added a soft, "please."

"Could you form a question please? I don't think I'm quite understanding what you're trying to say," his lazy smile was too cocky, and I hated every fiber of my being for thinking it made him more attractive.

"You're an asshole, you know?" I frowned. David pulled his blanket up to his chin, turning away from me with a fake and obnoxious yawn.

"Man, I'm so sleepy..."

"Fine!" I groaned, crossing my arms over my chest. "David, will you please go downstairs with me please so I can please make some food please?"

"Now, was that so hard?" his sarcastic tone made me roll my eyes, and he quickly pulled on the black t-shirt thrown carelessly on his floor before leading me out of his room. I followed behind him quietly, careful not to step too loud or fall down the steps due to the slickness of my fuzzy socks. "Is that where you went to middle school?"

He was referring to my gray, oversized sweatshirt, printed with Jackson Middle School across the chest in a navy blue font. I tensed up, not even realizing this was the sweatshirt I chose to pair with my leggings for the night. I replied, "Uh, no. My mom was a school counselor. She, uh, worked at Jackson, but I went to the middle school closer to our house."

"Oh," David replied, clamming up at the subject matter. "Sorry. Uh, what do you—what do you want to eat?"

"Do you have any icecream or something?"

"You woke me up to eat some fucking icecream?" he frowned, and I shrugged carelessly in response, like I didn't understand what was wrong with it. David rolled his eyes, opening one of the two freezers and pulling out a few different cartons of icecream. "Chocolate, butter pecan, or mint chocolate?"

"Chocolate," I answered immediately, turning my nose up at just the idea of the other two flavors. I wasn't a grandma, and I didn't deserve to be in a mental institution (yet), so chocolate was the only viable option. "Which one of you freaks eats mint chocolate?"

"Em," he replied with a laugh. "So does my dad sometimes."

"Do they know they're both going to hell for eating cold, sweet toothpaste... for fun?"

"Do you know you're probably the most dramatic person on earth?" he asked, sliding the carton in front of me. He almost closed the freezer, but we decided it'd be too dark in the kitchen without it open, so he didn't. He quickly grabbed two spoons but no bowls, passing one to me with a light smile. He cracked the ice cream open and dug a huge spoonful out before he started talking again, mouth full of half melting chocolate icecream, "Can I ask you more about your family?"

"I guess," I answered after a few moments of thinking. If I had to cry, I'd have all night to do that. It didn't seem terrible. David (and John and Sam) told me about Talulah; I could tell them about Sofia and Andy. I began stuffing my face with icecream, one because it was amazing and two for moral support.

"What happened with your dad? You told me your mom died, and I know you live with your grandparents, so, like... is he in jail or something?"

I had to laugh, mainly because it was the only other option. If I cried, I'd feel stupid. So I laughed. "Uh... no. Do you want, like, a story time, or do you want me to just straight up tell you?"

"Story time," David shrugged as if the question was easy. "We have all night."

"Okay, then. Prepare yourself, because this one's a doozy," I warned, taking another bite of ice cream for emotional support. "Um, well, I already told you my dad didn't want children and formed basically no emotional attachment to me, right?"

"Yeah."

"When my mom died, the one thing that made us a family was just... gone," I tried to explain it in a way that didn't make my dad sound like a complete asshole, but it was hard. "I don't know. He got super depressed, and me and my mom look so much alike. I think he just couldn't get her out of his mind, ever. He resented me, I think. He never hit me or anything, but it's just something you know. He couldn't even look at me without thinking of my dead mother, you know? And he didn't even want me in the first place. The burden fell on him, when, in all honesty, he couldn't give two shits about me."

"I'm sure he cared about you," David tried to reassure me, but it only make me roll my eyes.

"He didn't. I don't care—that was just the way he was—but he didn't. Anyways, he woke me up for school every day, and a couple weeks before I moved here, I woke up late. I got ready in a rush and I came downstairs and he just... wasn't there. Usually, he waited at the table until I was ready because I didn't have my license until I moved in with my grandparents, but he wasn't. Then, I thought maybe the reason he didn't wake me up is because he was still asleep, so I went to his room and I found him hanging."

"Hanging?" David repeated for clarification.

"Hanging," I replied, blinking profusely to try and get rid of the tears accumulating on my water line. "His note just said I can't live without her, so. That was it."

"What the fuck? That's pretty shitty," he complained. The me of two months ago would've agreed. It was shitty. The only person I had left didn't just get to choose to leave me alone, no matter what he thought of me, no matter how many conditions he gave my mother before impregnating her. He didn't get to just leave me because he was sad. He had a responsibility, whether he wanted it or not. The me of today... didn't agree.

"He was depressed," I shrugged, biting my cheek as a way to stop my lip from trembling. I would not cry in front of David. I didn't even know why I was telling him. He'd probably use it against me eventually. "He should've gotten help, but he didn't. It's sad, obviously, but... I don't know. I don't resent him. He couldn't live on this earth without my mom, and I get that. I just... If I could do it over again, I'd ask him to kill hisself at the park or something. Seeing the dead body hanging was a little much, you know?"

"Did you ever?"

"Did I ever what?"

I knew what he was asking. I'd have to be clueless not to. I hoped he'd take the hint. He didn't.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?"

I stood abruptly, tossing my spoon into the sink a few feet away with a loud clang. "That's enough story time for tonight. Thanks for the icecream. I'll see you in the morning."

And thus, my night with David Dobrik.






this made me sad to write

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