Chapter 20
unsafe person
Elias
Nolan sits on the couch with his head in his hands after giving us some panicked, severely edited rendition of why Saige isn't here right now.
"So, you hit her. Way to fucking go."
"No, that's not what I said."
I know it isn't what he said, but I don't care.
I'm fucking pissed right now. I don't know why the hell he would kiss her in the first place—Nolan doesn't kiss people.
He doesn't even like anyone, and he barely fucking knows Saige.
"I said I pushed her, and I didn't mean to.
It was reactionary. I definitely didn't mean to push her that fucking hard. "
"Says the guy who threw a fucking coffee mug at me because I pulled her hair a little bit."
"Okay, you, Elias…" Dax says before dropping down next to Nolan and wrapping his arm around him.
"Can stop now. I think we all know you were doing a little more than pulling her hair a little bit.
You've made torturing her your M.O. for years, so settle down with the performative outrage, please. We get it; you love being mad."
"It's not fucking performative outrage," I snap back.
"Okay, then explain it," Dax challenges. "Why are you so mad that Saige isn't here? Why are you so concerned about her well-being? You don't allot the same level of care to your other enemies, and you have plenty."
I can't explain it. I'm still not sure I even understand it myself. I know it's an obsession, a sexual fixation. Sometimes I want to choke her, and sometimes I want to fuck her. Sometimes, I want to do both.
That's not abnormal for me.
But I like it better when she's here, even though I know she can't fucking stand me and she's fucking both of my roommates. That's not normal.
I feel weird when I haven't seen her for a long time. I'd say that I miss her, but that doesn't quite feel right. I know I panicked when I thought of her going to prison and not having access to her anymore.
And when I moved into West Pine last year, I felt like I was getting over her.
But you don't need to get over someone you were never with and never cared about to begin with.
I just needed to get her out of my system because I'd spent so much time consumed by how much I hated her and wanted to hurt her; I needed to move on and focus on other things.
So, I avoided going home, but I kept tabs on her. And when I found out she had a boyfriend—some scrawny goth-looking kid—I was fucking furious.
I ruined that, and I didn't feel bad about it, either. I knew it must have hurt her, and the thought of her in pain again because of me after so long…it didn't bother me. It felt nice to have some control over her again.
"She's my responsibility," I tell him.
Dax narrows his eyes and then laughs a little. "Okay, sure. But just so you know, if you're ever ready to be honest about it, I'd be willing to help you with her."
Now, Nolan looks up. "What do you mean by that?"
Dax ignores his question. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" he asks Nolan.
"I'm fine now, I just want to know where she is. I want to know if she's okay." He turns to me and asks, "Aren't you tracking her location?"
"Um, not anymore. She got pissed at me and turned it off today."
"Great, so we all pissed her off today. She's never fucking coming back," Nolan says.
Dax shrugs. "Um, what do you mean, all? I didn't do anything to her. She still likes me; I'm sure she'll text me back any minute."
I scoff. Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen after class today. It looks like Nolan knows something about that, too—that's the part he isn't telling us.
That's not really my fault. It's not like I wrote the fucking lesson.
"She thinks you don't like her," Nolan says.
Dax doesn't answer because he doesn't like her; we both know that. Instead, he sinks into the couch, props one foot up on the coffee table, and starts scrolling on his phone.
"See, she's fine," he says about a minute later. He turns the screen toward Nolan, and I can't resist crossing the room to see what it is, too.
It's a photo on that Kira girl's story of the two of them sitting on the floor in her dorm room taking tequila shots.
"She's not alone. She's with her friend. Maybe—given the circumstances—we should just let her drink with her friend and leave her alone for a minute."
Nolan's eyes widen with concern. "With a head injury?"
Dax shrugs. "It's not like she blacked out or anything, right? She'll be fine. I'll go get her later."
"I don't think she'll go with you," Nolan says.
Dax laughs a little. "Don't worry about whatever she said. Saige just says things like that sometimes because she thinks she has to. She doesn't mean it."
I hold back laughter. There's a lot of irony in that statement.
"I'm going to follow her friend now, and I'll send her a DM in a few hours."
Fuck a few hours. "What's her username?" I ask.
"Um…it's dont.stalk.kira.d," Dax says. "With a period between everything."
I type it in, and when her profile pops up, I click follow and then send her a message.
Tell Saige she needs to text me or come home now.
Seconds later, she starts typing a reply.
Saige said you can go fuck yourself. Leave us alone. BYYEEEEEE!
So, her friend is just as mouthy as she is. That's a match made in fucking hell.
A few seconds later, I get a notification that she's tagged me in a story. Even before I open it, I can tell it's a picture of her flipping off the camera.
I shake my head and read the text. Hey, @elias.thorpe7 and @itsdaxluckyyou: It doesn't surprise me that your reading comprehension is shit, but the username is actually DON'T stalk Kira. So don't. Fucking. Stalk me.
She ends it with a peace sign emoji followed by a few more middle fingers.
"I don't think I like this friend," Dax grumbles. "She seems like a bad influence. I mean, I get it with you. You're kind of a dick, but I'm handsome and super nice. I wasn't even going to say anything about the fact that they went to the liquor store with my credit card."
"I don't think we should say anything else at all," I tell him. "We're not going to be able to use her to find Saige if she blocks us."
"Wow, did hell just freeze over?"
"What do you mean?"
"I thought for sure I was going to have to talk you out of going over there and burning the whole dorm down."
"I don't really care what her little friend thinks. And I think you're right—we know where she is, and we can go get her. We'll give her some semblance of freedom; that will make her feel better, and then we'll be able to either drag her or scare her ass back here."
I doubt it'll even be that difficult. I think she's making up half of this stalker shit because she doesn't want to leave.
It's the only thing that makes sense.
"I just can't believe I hurt her," Nolan says, his voice breaking. He leans forward again, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, raking his fingers through his hair. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"
"Saige has that effect on people."
"That's not fucking funny, Elias," he snaps. "It's not helpful, either. This isn't a joke to me."
I shrug. "Sorry."
Dax rubs his back. "Nothing is wrong with you," he assures him. "It was a mistake. And I told her that not smoking was mandatory if she was going to stay here."
"Don't do that. It's not her fault."
"Okay…I'm sorry."
"I think I'm going to go home. I can't just sit here."
"That's the worst thing you could do while you're in this headspace, and I think you know that. Anyway, she'll be back, and you want to see her, don't you?" Dax asks him.
I know I'm not fucking going anywhere. She ruined my Friday night plans. Although if I'm being honest, my liver could probably use a break, anyway.
"Yeah, I do."
"And just in case you didn't know this already, you don't owe her any explanation that you're uncomfortable giving, all right?"
"Yeah, I know." Nolan sighs. "I think I'm going to go for another run."
"Don't do that," Dax says. "Let's go to the pub. We can have a few drinks; it'll be loud and dark. It'll help pass the time. Then we'll bring Saige home, okay?"
"All right, fine."
"Let me just go change." Dax looks at me as he heads for the stairs. "You want to come?"
"No, I'll find something else to do."
"You mean someone else?"
I smile a little, giving him a noncommittal shrug. "We'll see."
But I know damn well that won't be happening. I don't even want to try anymore—not after what happened at the concert.
After the two of them leave, I park my ass on the couch and find something to watch, refreshing Kira's Instagram to check for new stories about every fifteen minutes.
Hours later, she finally posts a new one, showing the two of them at a house party.
Fucking great. She's with her friend, sure, but the last time she went to a house party with said friend, she tried to go home with fucking Miles, the wife killer.
Surely, she wouldn't do something like that; I mean, she's getting fucked senseless here every night and some mornings, too.
And I would know—I listen through the wall with my fist wrapped around my dick.
I think I'll go sit in front of their residence hall. If Kira comes back alone, I'm going to fucking lose it. If she doesn't, I'll toss Saige over my shoulder and drag her ass back here.
I picture how she'd react; that'd surely garner unwanted attention. I find myself wondering if I can get chloroform online and then immediately shut it down.
I don't hurt women. I haven't even wanted to look at a girl more than once in years. Why the fuck am I like this when it comes to Saige?
Why don't I just let her go?
I flip off the television, thinking I'll go for a walk; maybe I can even find the house. Before I get up, Dax walks through the front door, helping a very drunk Nolan stumble inside with him. "I'm going to need some help getting him up the stairs," Dax says.
"Nolan, is it okay if I put your arm over my shoulder to help you upstairs?" I ask as I approach them.