7. Thea
seven
My phone buzzed on my nightstand, but I ached too much to roll over and look at it. It felt as if acid had been injected into my bones. Whoever messaged me could wait.
I pulled my fluffy, weighted blanket to my chin and closed my eyes against the pathetic tear that tried to slip out. Fuck this shit. My pain didn’t get to make me cry today.
I’d had too many good days in a row. A fibromyalgia flare-up was bound to happen sooner or later. I still remembered the day I got my official diagnosis. Lenny insisted I see doctor after doctor. I was jabbed with needles, x-rayed, jabbed with more needles, and even stuck inside an MRI machine. “Everything looks normal.” The doctor had said.
“Like hell it does!” Lenny spat back at him, tired to death of his mansplaining and the way he’d suggested perhaps I’d been experiencing PMS.
Finally, the doctor sighed. “Maybe it’s fibromyalgia, then. That’s the last stop on this train— the diagnosis we give when nothing else explains the pain.”
When nothing else explains the pain…
That sounded like a punk song lyric.
And now, I was thinking about Levi and his love of emo-punk music. I imagined him as a Mormon teenager, hiding his My Chemical Romance and The Used CDs inside the cases of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Janice Kapp Perry. I imagined him jamming out alone in his car where no one could hear him scream his heart out in his hilariously off-key singing voice.
That thought made me smile.
My phone buzzed again. I didn’t budge. Sometimes, if I settled into the perfect position, the pain would fade enough that I could bear it.
I had almost drifted off to sleep when I heard a key turn in the lock of my front door. Lenny was the only one with a key. I closed my eyes against the late afternoon sun drifting through my bedroom window. Lenny would let herself in and make her way back to my room.
When she appeared in my doorway a few moments later, wearing the gauziest, flowiest pink dress she owned, I croaked out, “Hello, Lenore.”
Lenny rolled her bright green eyes. Mine were like the watered-down version of hers— or maybe the sadder version. “Hi, sweetie.” Knowing I was teasing her, she ignored my faux formality and climbed into bed with me.
For some reason, I found it hilarious to tease her and pretend she was the distant aunt that most people had. The irony tickled me.
Lenny stroked my hair, engulfing me in her comforting cinnamon vanilla scent. She always smelled like Christmas, even in the middle of summer. What a weirdo. “Bad day?” she asked.
“Yep. Hurts like hell.”
“Have you tried—”
“A warm bath? Yoga? Pain killers? Weed? Yes, ma’am, to all of the above.” There was no cure for fibromyalgia, and very few things helped a flare-up when it hit. My choices were to deal with the pain with my head held high or deal with it curled up and crying.
Lenny sighed and rubbed my shoulder while I folded into the fetal position and chose the latter. “Sorry, Thea. I swear Mel used to get these aches when we were kids. I remember her crying in the middle of the night, so I’d get up and rub her legs sometimes. I always thought they went away but maybe she hid them from me. Wouldn’t have been the only thing.”
I loved and hated it when my aunt talked about my mom. I liked having little glimpses of who Melanie Traeger was, but they left a bitter taste in my mouth. She would forever be the woman who brought me into this world only to abandon me.
My phone buzzed again, cutting through the regret we both felt any time we brought up my mom.
“Let me get that for you, sweetie.” Lenny reached over and grabbed my phone from my nightstand. It didn’t bother me in the slightest. Lenny could read all my messages if she wanted. I had nothing to hide from her but the letters in my Google Drive.
“Who’s Levi?” Her eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, is he that darling boy I saw you with at the bar the other night? He looked so different from the alpha meatheads you usually set your sights on.”
I snorted. “Darling? Don’t get your hopes up, Lenore. He’s a friend.” But she did have a point about the alpha meatheads. It wasn’t so much that I set my sights on them. They were simply more confident and persistent than any other type of guy. Guys like my ex wore me down because I eventually got lonely and needed sex, but I never pursued them. I wrapped my blanket tighter around my shoulders. After waiting a few seconds, I asked, “What does Levi want?”
Not that I gave a shit. Just curious.
Lenny smirked at me and read, “Hey, Thea! Sorry, I know you’re probably busy, but I thought I’d throw this out there: Food and R-rated movies tonight?” Lenny chuckled and looked up at me from my phone. “R-rated movies, huh? How scandalous! Have we gone back in time, and you’re suddenly eleven years old again?”
I smiled and nodded. “He’s an Ex-Mormon who wasn’t allowed to do any of that stuff growing up. So yeah, it’s like going back in time and rewriting his story. It’s kind of fun.” I shrugged.
When I glanced over at Lenny, she was typing into my phone. “Hey!” I snapped and reached for it. “What are you doing? You have permission to read but not to send!”
“Too late!” After the chime indicated she’d sent a message, Lenny handed over my phone. Despite the death glare I aimed her way, she kissed my forehead and then slid out of my bed. “I have to get to the bar tonight, sweetie, but don’t forget brunch on Wednesday! If you’re not feeling well, I’ll bring it over here. Let me know!”
“Yeah, whatever.” I opened my message thread with Levi and groaned out loud as Lenny made her way toward my front door. “You gave him my address?” I shouted after her.
She let out her evil cackle before closing my front door behind her.
Levi replied before I had time to clean up Lenny’s mess.
Awesome! I’ll be there in a few!
I facepalmed and groaned again. Pain burned through my entire body. I looked like a homeless person in my oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. I hadn’t washed my hair or put on any makeup, but for some intangible reason, I didn’t tell Levi not to come. For some highly illogical reason, I dragged my aching body out of bed and stumbled to my bathroom. Like a clinically insane person, I brushed my hair, used a little dry shampoo, and swiped some mascara onto my lashes.
Then, as if there wasn’t enough psycho on this mountainous pile of lunacy, I switched my t-shirt for a fitted tank. I raised my eyebrows at my reflection and whispered, “What the hell are you doing, Thea?”
Before I could thoroughly question my reasons, I heard a knock at my front door. Step by aching step, I went from the bathroom through the kitchen to the living room and pulled open the door.
Levi looked around my porch at the random pieces of junk art I had displayed there, not noticing that I’d answered the door. He leaned closer to examine an angel made of corrugated metal sheets and recycled cans.
“That was fast, Levi.” My voice startled him, and his eyes shot up to meet mine. “Were you sitting in your car waiting for me to answer your text?”
He laughed and nodded. “Yep. I’ve done nothing all day but pace around my hotel room, debating on whether or not I should text you.”
I blinked at him. “You’re not serious.” I’d gotten the feeling before that Levi might want more than friendship from me. No. I didn’t have more than friendship to give. I didn’t know if I even had that much to offer. No. I didn’t. No.
“Of course not. I went to Mesa Verde National Park today.” He pointed at the angel on my porch. “This one is cool. It’s like an imperfect anti-angel. Did you make it?”
The anti-angel. Damn. I liked that. “Uh, no. I bought it at a farmer’s market. I’m good with paint, not 3D objects.” I stepped back to let Levi into my house. “How was Mesa Verde?” I’d been on several school field trips to see the famous cliff dwellings and knew them well.
Levi smiled. “Awesome. I think I like hiking. I think it could be my thing.” He glanced around my cluttered living room and kitchen. There were dishes in the sink from days ago, stacks of junk mail on the counter, and laundry piled on my squishy yellow sofa. The garbage needed to be taken out. I’d been playing that game to see how much more I could shove in for two days.
But all he said was, “Are all these paintings yours?” He’d only been looking at the art on my walls.
“Uh, most of them.”
“Wow. You’re crazy talented.” He made his way around my living room, examining each painting. Somehow, it made me feel naked and like he could see right into my black soul when he looked at my art, especially when he stopped at my self-portrait. I’d painted a midnight black demon with glowing red eyes and, over the top, my translucent human face.
Levi reached out and ran his hands over my face in the painting. “Whoa,” he whispered.
It felt like he’d gently run his fingers over my actual face, and I flinched at the tenderness. I cleared my throat. “So I’m in tons of pain today, and I’m going to hang out on my bed. There’s a TV in there so we can watch something. If it’s weird for you to sit on my bed, the floor is super comfy.” I turned and headed for my bedroom, feeling slightly shaky.
Levi followed me and said, “I’m sorry you’re in pain. Is there anything I can do?”
“Shut up.” I climbed into my bed, feeling so done talking about myself. “What should we watch?”
Levi studied my face for a minute, but I refused to make eye contact. Finally, he sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, looking like he did feel uncomfortable in my bedroom. “I’ve heard the Deadpool movies are awesome.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you a Marvel fan?”
He glared at me. “Maybe. So what, Thea?”
“Superhero movies are so cliché! But, fine. Deadpool it is!”
Halfway into the first movie, Levi finally made his way up my bed to lean against my extra pillow. He kept his arms folded and legs crossed. His entire body seemed rigid, and he kept several feet between us. I thought messing with him and scooting a little closer might be fun. Would he scoot away? If he moved any farther, he’d fall off the bed. I imagined the whole scene and laughed out loud.
Levi smiled, probably thinking I’d succumbed to Ryan Reynolds’ wit. I would never.
“Are you hungry? We should order something,” Levi said.
He distracted me from my plan with food. Well played. “Chinese!” I yelled before he could suggest anything else. I’d been craving mushroom chicken and chow mein all day. I still had the tab open on my laptop to order from Golden Spoon. I winced in pain as I tried to stand.
Levi jumped up. “Don’t move. What do you need?”
I rolled my eyes but laid back on my pillows. “My laptop is on the kitchen table. I already have the food I want entered on the website for Golden Spoon.”
“I’m on it.”
Half of me wanted to protest, while the other half didn’t want to move again for the rest of the night. I could let Levi order the damn food. What could that hurt?
A few minutes later, Levi returned to my room carrying my laptop and looking somber. “Uh, so the food is ordered.” He set my computer on my nightstand and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a deep breath. “Look, I know this is none of my business, and honestly, I didn’t mean to read it. It was open on your laptop, and the first line caught my eye…”
He trailed off, and my stomach clenched as the realization hit me. I wrote another suicide letter before I curled up in bed. This one was short. It said:
It’s agony, and I’m done. I don’t want to exist anymore. Don’t waste your tears when I’m gone. I was never worth it.
I sat up quickly and snatched my laptop from the nightstand. “Shit,” I mumbled. No one had seen these. No one knew I wrote them. Shit. Shit. Shit. I didn’t owe Levi an explanation, but I dreaded the pity and the offer to help that was sure to leave Levi’s mouth in the next ten seconds. I didn’t want the damn suicide hotline number or the suggestion to try therapy again.
I prepared to tell him to leave when he sat softly on the edge of my bed. “I’ve been there.” He studied the wood grain on my bedroom floor. “After I told my wife I didn’t believe anymore and stopped going to church, I felt useless, worthless, and like the world would be better off without me. Then she told the rest of my family, thinking that would help save me. It made everything worse, and I turned fully suicidal.”
He sat up straight and met my curious gaze. How did he talk so openly about his pain? Levi sighed and continued. “It’s hard to say what snapped me out of it. I guess I woke up one day and wanted my life — not the one I had, but the one I would create.” He rested his hand on my knee and said, “I hope you want your life one day, Thea.”
Typically, that would have felt patronizing and would have ignited my fury, but coming from Levi, it felt entirely genuine. His hand on my knee felt so perfect and gentle, too. I didn’t even want to swat it away. “I’m not…” I swallowed. “I’m not going to hurt myself. It’s this weird thing I do because death fascinates me. I… my mom…” my voice shook. The last person I’d ever told about my mom was Jo when we were thirteen. My ex-boyfriend of two years didn’t even know. I always told him she died in a car accident, which was partially true.
“Thea,” Levi’s thumb stroked my knee where it rested. It comforted me and stilled my racing heart. “You don’t have to explain.” His eyes were so warm and honest.
“I know, but I want to.” That wasn’t a lie. For the final inexplicable reason of the night, I desperately wanted to tell someone about my mom. It felt like that little secret clawed at my insides, trying to get out.
He nodded. “Then I want to listen.”
“My mom had postpartum depression and ran her car off a bridge when I was only five months old.” I rolled my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek. “That, um, that hurts, ya know? And it makes me wonder about my value and what makes a person give up.” I angrily swiped at my tears. Lenny was the only person that had ever seen me cry. “And sometimes my fibromyalgia pain gets so intense that any way to make it stop sounds like a good idea. But I’m not going to hurt myself.”
The words kept spilling from my mouth even though I begged myself to shut up. “I’ve been to three different therapists. One was awful, and two were great. I’ve tried pills, and I hated them. I think I have a sad brain, but it’s fine. I’m not going to hurt myself. I’m not.” Now that Levi looked right at me, all raw and exposed, I truly didn’t want to hurt myself. It was like he shed the light of day on my darkness and made it look less ugly.
Levi’s hand never left my knee. “I don’t think you’ll hurt yourself either, Thea. You’ll find your reason to stay.” He took my hand in his free one and ran his thumb over the skull ring on my pointer finger. “And I’m sorry about your mom. That sucks.”
“Sucks balls.” I agreed, wiping another traitorous tear.
Levi smiled. “Big hairy balls.”
I laughed through my tears. “Gross. Why do they have to be hairy?”
“To illustrate how bad it sucks, Thea.”
After we both laughed, I wiped my last tear and patted Levi’s hand with my free one. “Thanks for not making this a big deal,” I said.
“I’ve got you.” The doorbell rang, signaling the Chinese delivery. Levi stood to answer the door, letting my hand fall back into my lap. Before he left my bedroom, he turned and said, “And thanks for opening up to me. It makes me feel like we’re real friends.” His smile was freaking adorable. Levi was excited to be my friend.
Why did that make my stomach flutter?