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So why did she run away? Was it too much? Did we hurt her in any way? Did she change her mind?
Twisting on the bed, I lie on my back to stare at the ceiling. My cracked cell phone is on the bedside stand. I could text her. Call her. Ask her what happened.
But that’s pushing, right? Like, if she wants to talk about it, maybe she will come to me. Maybe I should wait, give her time.
I’m also concerned about Joel, although he’s right next door, snoring softly into his pillow. Did I push him too hard again? Did he buy my this-is-just-sex-and-nothing-more-to-me act?
Does he even care?
Fuck, no, I’m not going into this. As if my brain needs any more fuel, any more shit to grapple with. Insomnia is a fact of my life, and this is making it worse.
I grab my drawing pad from the bedside table, thinking to work on the comic I’m creating with Joel’s story ideas. That usually relaxes me. I flick through the pages, smudging my fingers with black. They’re shaking.
I drop the pad on the stand and sigh. A breeze is coming through my open window. With a frustrated sigh, I get up and pad over to look outside.
City lights. They remind me of another city, another time. Another life, one I thought I left behind but I find every night in my nightmares. A place I both miss and dread. A time I was both myself and a frightened kid without hope.
Joel made Madison my home, my city. He’s my country, my continent. My god. I’ll never forget all he did for me. I’ll fucking worship him, worship the ground he stands on, every day, for as long as he lets me.
Shit, now I sound crazy. Maybe I am. Hell knows I thought so for a while.
In the dark hours of night, as I lean out of my window, trying to find a sign, a path, I wonder if it’s ever going to be enough.
***
Candy is avoiding me at work. After waking up and going in search for coffee in the kitchen only to realize Joel is avoiding me, too, this is fucked-up.
Just great.
To top it off, my concentration is worse than usual. I can’t set the books straight on the shelves, I spill coffee over a coffee table edition of Fantastic Animals, and when I stumble, stubbing my shoe into a display, I bring everything down with me.
Candy comes to help me get up and straighten the place. She asks if I’m okay, and I only nod. My hands are shaking.
Everyone’s freaking out. Maybe it’s my turn. Anyway, I’m tired. Been struggling to get on with the reading material for the GED, and it’s like banging my head against the wall. Throw in the fact I didn’t catch a wink last night, and I’m officially done in.
“Jet…” Candy is stealing quick glances at me as she arranges the books in a circle on the stand. Today she’s dressed in a short dress with a wide skirt that shows off her curvy legs. “Did you have a fight with Joel?”
“No, why?”
“You’ve been scowling at me all day.”
“I wasn’t.” Is that why she has been avoiding me? “Had a fight with books.”
“What do you mean?”
“Reading. All those damn books for the GED. And the essays I need to write. Dammit.” I grip my hair, tug on it. “I’ll never make it. I’ll never pass that test. I should go back to bartending.”
“No.” She rounds up on me, so fiercely I take a step back, my eyes opening wide. “You can’t give up. This is about your future. Do you want to be a bartender forever?”
“Hey, I’m good at it. And at least I don’t have to write essays about it.” I can’t quite keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Maybe pouring drinks is all I’ll ever be good at.”
“There’s nothing wrong with bartending.” She takes my hand, turns it over, studies my palm like she would a painting, turning it this way and that. As if it’s a book and she’s reading it. “The only question is whether it’s what you want to do for the rest of your life.”
“That sounds like a long time nobody has any power over,” I grumble. As if anyone can know how long they’ll live. Life is too short.
My hands are shaking again, and my breathing is harsh. It seems to echo between the shelves.
“I offered to help you with the reading. Let me.” She takes my other hand, too, squeezes it. Her chocolate eyes are warm. No panic, no fear there. It’s so eas
