Page 83 of Trailer Trash

“Please don’t be from Evan. Please don’t be from Evan.”

Harlow,

I didn’t get to finish saying the most important part.

Thank you for everything, and I am sorry.

I owe you my life.

If you ever want to talk, as a friend, I am here for you.

Love always,

Evan

He scribbled his phone number at the bottom. I exhale a long breath, staring at the note as my heart rages in my chest.

Why did he have to do this? He is supposed to be my past, not present, and certainly not in my future.

I set the roses and my purse on the counter. They seem less threatening with the ‘friend’ reference rather than romantic interest. Plus, my trash is full.

I look back once and freeze. Simple flowers, yet a strange feeling settles over me, unwelcome and dark. I flick off the kitchen light, as if that will make them — and this feeling — disappear.

In bed, I toss and turn before finally sleeping for six hours. When my alarm wakes me, I study for a while, pack my things, and head to class. From there, I go straight to Killian’s for my seven o’clock shift.

Sleep. School. Killian’s.

Repeat.

For some reason, the flowers stay on my kitchen counter. I finally throw them away a few weeks later, but their ghost lingers, and I sometimes stare where they once sat.

22

Killian

The lowly CNA pet my head like I’m a fucking dog.

And I loved it.

I got what I wanted a week ago. I fucked her. I should be over this shit.

Then she pet me.

Keeping her as whatever she is shouldn’t be a big deal. I’m not attached. I’m bored.

I walk through the front door, nod at Mom, and head for the stairs. Harlow will be here in an hour. I need to shower.

“Wait, honey,” says Mom. “How was work?”

“Good. The drive sucks. I want to move closer.”

Her face drains of all color. “Do you mean move out?”

I sigh, annoyed because I only live here for her. At some point, she needs to accept I won’t stay forever.

“Your kid is supposed to move out,” I remind her. “Jagger and River did.”

“They’re different than you.”