I woke up to my phone vibrating under my pillow. I pulled it out, not even having the energy to be pissed, and looked at the screen. Jesse Stevens is calling. I let my head fall back down on the pillow while my finger lazily slid across the screen and tapped the speaker button.
"I was sleeping," I muttered, closing my eyes and hugging the pillow tight, trying not to let the comforting warmth and tiredness leave my body.
"Sorry, I just wanted to know you were still alive." His voice was low, yet somehow amused.
"I am. Goodbye."
My voice came out a lot angrier than I meant it to, but I didn't mind it.
"No, wait!" He sounded way more stressed than necessary, considering I hadn't even lifted a finger to try to end the call, so he had all the time in the world. "I'm also sorry I dragged you to the clubhouse the other night, I should've just taken you home, or possibly admitted you to the hospital, considering—"
"Considering what?" I interrupted. I tried to snap at him, but, well, not enough energy..
There was music in the background, loud noises muffled, like he wasn't directly with the noises, and I immediately knew he was at that house again— with him. I opened my eyes, slowly turned to look at my window and saw no light entering behind the curtains. I'd slept through the day, and yet I was still tired.
Jesse sighed on the other side of the call, I knew he ran his hand through his hair at the same time. He made some weird noise resembling something one makes when they don't know what to say, before saying, "Considering your condition." He paused, and even though the music was kind of annoying when I couldn't hear what song was playing, it was oddly calming having someone to talk to.
Before I could try to listen for more lyrical clues, he spoke again. "Look, I'm worried about you. What you're going through is hard and I've seen your friends out a lot the past few months, but I hadn't seen you until I found you by the river. You're alone. I don't want you to be alone, so please let me know if there's anything I can do to help—" He stopped abruptly, as if he was going to say something more, but I also heard a knock and a muffled, dark voice before he said, "I've got to go, but you can call me whenever, Livy, text me or whatever, I don't care, I'm here, alright?"
"Mhm."
The three beeps that signaled he hung up woke me up a bit more, and I glanced at the screen, seeing his texts asking if I was okay. Nothing else happened on my phone for twenty-four hours. Nothing.
No one sent any messages. It was like I was back to those days after, when my phone laid deadly still, even though the word had gone out to our extended family and other friends. My blood went cold as I thought about it, not getting a single call, not a single flower on my doorstep, though I knew my mom had gotten many.
No one cared. No one thought about me. Like they knew what I knew, that it was my fault.
Well, Jesse cared a bit... at least now, after he realized how bad I was doing— how badly I wanted it to just stop.
Shit. I sighed and tried not to think. My own thoughts were my greatest enemy, and at that moment I didn't want to, or had even the slightest interest in, engaging in another battle with my mind— so I just closed my eyes and hoped I'd fall asleep again.
-
My days consisted mostly of sleeping, laying under the warm covers because I didn't have the energy to leave them, and forcing myself to get up now and then to eat some instant noodles. I was way behind on my schoolwork, thanked myself for staying in school and receiving enough money for that to pay the bills while I still wasn't sure if I was going to live until I needed a job.
Thank fuck for student loans.
Though continuing my education was something I was debating. I loved what I was doing, I loved having the chance to develop my skill and knowledge, but I was so tired— of everything. I hadn't touched a pencil in months, I'd barely read anything but I'd kept up with what mandatory work I needed to do to stay enrolled, but... I was so tired.
As I chewed on the last pack of chicken-flavored noodles, I sighed. I needed to get to a grocery store, but to do that I needed to take a shower and find some clean clothes. All of that seemed like a lot of effort for something so small, but it needed to be done.. I couldn't walk out into the world looking like I was broken, then someone would see, and report back..
I huffed into the mirror. My hair was a mess, I hadn't brushed it in days, and it resembled a bird's nest more than my hair as I stared into the evil, reflecting surface. Under my eyes there were dark circles, even though I'd slept way more than I'd done in years the past months. When I finally sucked it up and brushed my hair, I also had it in me to put some dye into my roots and make sure I didn't look as bad as I felt. That was always the worst for me; the pity looks and the silent whisperings around me from people who knew what happened, but didn't dare speak to me. If they were afraid I'd fall to my knees and shatter like glass if they said hello, or if they thought I was fine and didn't need it— I had no idea.
The stupid water wasn't as warm as I'd liked, but it probably made me less smelly and more presentable— just to get a few more packs of noodles. After I'd dried myself off I pulled on a hoodie so I at least felt like I could hide myself a little more, and I bit my lip as I stared at the mascara laying on the sink. I succumbed and put it on, thinking of it as a last resort, as if it would make me feel better..
Once I finally got myself into the store, I made a beeline to the aisle I knew they kept the instant noodles and put four five-packs of the chicken-flavored ones into my basket. I got what I came for, so now I had to get out again. The crowd was suffocating me. Well, it was more my own, intrusive thoughts suffocating me and filling my ears with stupidity, telling me what everyone thought as they looked at me.
"Why didn't she just call?" my mind said to me, as I glanced at a woman by the cereals behind me. Then I looked at her child, sitting inside her cart. "She's supposed to be an adult, but she failed him."
The lines at the registers were way too long for me to just stand there without any distractions, so I decided to walk around a little, putting my hood up to minimize the odds of anyone recognizing me, and wondered if I should get some candy as well. My thoughts quieted down a little as I kept my eyes to myself, and fought the urge to scream. Just to get some frustration out.
I was always weak for mixing milk chocolate with salty chips, so I stared at the two items for a while, before reaching for them both and adding them to my basket. I turned to walk towards the registers, thinking I'd waited long enough, but walked right into a large, dark chest that blocked my vision of anything but the textured leather my nose had just met with.
"Sorry," I mumbled, not daring to look up once I saw the wolf on the badge the man was wearing, and took a step to the side to walk around him. I'd seen it before, and that alone made me know I didn't want to stop to chat. Unless—
"Don't be."
That voice...
I looked up on instinct, seeing the guy from the clubhouse— on the second floor, leaning against the railing. His auburn hair still attempting to hide the large scar on his face. Why was he there? In front of me? I saw some girls my age whisper with their eyes glued to him, but not in the "oh, my, what a hot guy"-way— no, they looked scared. And with good reason, I thought.
"Having a party?" His voice ignited something deep inside my being, but I tried to hide it.
My eyes flickered back to him, just as he nodded towards my very weird basket of items. I shrugged and said, "Party for one."
"Your boyfriend isn't coming?" When I got a confused look on my face, he clarified, "Jesse Stevens?"
"Oh, well, he's just a friend, but no, I'm gonna have a party with me, my bed and maybe a movie."
A movie sounded nice. I didn't even think of it before I said it out loud. Maybe I could see a lovely kid's movie, with a happy ending, or maybe a tragedy, something I knew would reflect how I felt, like Romeo and Juliet.. Though that was different, the situation felt similar. The thought was so nice, actually, that I smiled.
When I realized I probably looked like a maniac, I cleared my throat and asked, "What're you doing here?"
He arched a brow, shrugged with one shoulder and looked at the shelf next to us, picking up a bag of salty chips like the ones I already picked out. "Shopping," he said, as if it was supposed to surprise me.
It did, but that's beside the point. I didn't see any motorcycles outside when I parked, and I definitely didn't see any tall, handsome men when I looked around as I entered. He'd be easily visible over the aisles in the small store, but I didn't really feel like engaging in any more conversation with him; I just wanted to get back home under my blanket.
"I should get home, don't wanna be late for my party." I excused myself and stepped around him to get to the register.
He didn't reply, but somehow I could feel that he was behind me. Some kind of warmth behind me alerted me of his presence still lingering too close for comfort, but a part of my intrusive mind went quiet, as if he calmed it— as if him just being close was enough to make my mind stop spinning and focus for a while.
I smiled again when it was my turn to pay for my food, but this time it was a fake, polite smile to the cashier. I faintly recognized her from the hallways when I went to high school, but she wasn't focused on me at all; her full attention was on the guy behind me, and I didn't blame her. If I'd been looking his way I wouldn't be able to tear my eyes away either.
The noodles, chocolate and chips were in a paper bag faster than I'd ever managed before that day, and I quickly made my way back to my car, put them into the trunk and closed it, but as I was about to go around the car to get into the driver's seat, he was there.
He leaned against the silver car next to mine, his bag of salty chips open, and he put one into his mouth, arching his scarred eyebrow at me. The motion made my knees wobble just a little, the sheer honesty and challenge in that slight movement making me doubt everything I'd ever heart of him once again.
I wasn't sure what he wanted, so I just crossed my arms to seem annoyed that he didn't leave any room for me to get into my car, except if I literally climbed over his legs. I couldn't really care less— nothing made me really feel anything anyway, so it didn't matter whether or not I was actually annoyed, or wanted to climb him...
"Is something wrong?" I asked, arching a brow of my own towards him.
He shrugged again and said, "No, I just like talking to you." He put another chip into his mouth, smirking at me like he was telling me something more than what he was saying, but I didn't catch it. Instead, I rolled my eyes and moved to lift my legs over his so I could get into my car. His moved out of the way instantly and he spoke again. "You aren't scared of me."
Of course I wasn't. I had no reason to. Though I felt fear the other night when Jesse pulled me into that house, I now knew he was nothing to be scared of. "I don't even know you," I told him as I opened the door.
"But you know of me."
I closed the door again, turned towards him and said, "Yes, but I don't like rumors." With my arms crossed again, I saw a few people staring at us from the entrance to the store, and I really wasn't in the mood to get a phone call from my mom asking why I was hanging out with a guy like him, so I sighed and met his golden eyes with a slight smile. "May I leave?"
The thought of my mom finding out it was him made me even more anxious to leave as well, considering she'd probably heard all the rumors too. Her friends were among the most chatty, gossip-happy people I knew of, so it wouldn't take long until she found out..
"What's your name?" he asked, standing up straight, looking at me.
"Olivia," I replied, knowing Jesse would tell him— probably laugh at the same time— if I'd lied. My mind screamed at me for it, but I was exhausted and wanted it to end.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Helix," he said, holding his hand out to me.
I resisted the urge to say "I know" when I took his hand, and just nodded at him instead. His grip was firm, almost dominating, with his big hand holding onto mine for a little while longer than necessary. He kept looking into my eyes while I waited for him to let go, and when he finally did, he said, "I'll see you around, Olivia."
He put another chip into his mouth as he started walking backwards, the left corner of his mouth tilting upwards just the tiniest bit, and then he turned around and set course for his motorcycle that I just noticed by the entrance. When he came walking, the girls from earlier scattered quickly, but he didn't seem to notice— either that or he simply didn't care. I somehow thought the latter was the case.
I stood there watching as he mounted his bike, put on his helmet, and rolled the bag of chips together and put it inside his jacket. His head turned towards me, and I quickly looked in another direction while fumbling with the car door, finally getting in when I heard the bike's engine start and take off. My mind began attacking me right away, spewing words like "ungrateful", "worthless" and "stupid" into my already broken brain, like I didn't already know them.
The peaceful, not-so private trip to the grocery store was nothing like I planned. I cursed under my breath and grimaced, before heading home, thinking I at least got what I came for.