29. Simone #2
I laugh and let her lead me away from the crowd of people.
I bump into Lydia as I’m walking and grab her arm to keep her upright. She looks like she’s about to fall over.
Did we drink that much already?
“Whoa, you okay? How much did you drink? You don’t look good.”
“I don’t know,” she slurs. “But…I’m fine.”
Lani watches her closely, then she walks over and lifts her chin, trying to look at her face.
“Let’s go outside,” she says. Serious now.
I help guide her out to the front porch and sit her down on the steps.
Lani crouches in front of her, holding her face in both of her hands.
“Your pupils are fucking huge, Lyd…Fuck. Are you kidding me right now? What did you take?”
Her eyes flick toward me and then back to Lani. It looks like she doesn’t want Lani to say whatever she’s about to say in front of me.
But why?
I frown, confused about what’s happening right now. “What are you talking about? She just drank too much—”
“No,” Lani says flatly. “She’s high.”
“What?” My face pulls in confusion. “Did someone spike her drink? We were all drinking together—”
“No one spiked her drink. She took something, Simone,” Lani tells me, eyes never leaving Lydia’s. “She’s done drugs before…or still does them, apparently. I thought she had stopped. But I guess not.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No…no, she doesn’t do drugs—”
“She does…and obviously just did.” She looks down at her wrist as if there’s a watch there. “I don’t know, in the last ten minutes or so that she wasn’t with us.”
I stare at Lydia, completely caught off guard. This has to be some kind of joke.
“What is she talking about? When did you—how did you? Why didn’t I know?”
“Simone…I—,” she starts, but Lani cuts her off.
“I found her doing them a couple of months back. Twice. Once, I thought it was just party shit. The other, she was in our dorm, snorting something. Begged me not to tell you. Said she’d stop.” Her eyes narrow on Lydia. “Did you stop?”
Lani stares at Lydia and then lets out this disbelieving laugh. “You never fucking stopped, did you?”
Lydia shakes her head.
“Are you serious?” I ask. “And you never told me?”
“I…I hate making you always worry about me. And I’m…I’m okay—”
“This isn’t okay!” I snap, completely shocked and hurt…like physically hurt at the knowledge of her touching drugs…something she swore she would never do, something she promised me she would never do.
“I’m fine…” she says flatly, barely holding her eyes open now.
And I see it…I see my best friend becoming exactly who she was always afraid of being.
“You’re obviously not fine! I can’t believe this. After everything…after all the people you’ve watched in your life do the same thing…go down the same path—”
I see her switch flip. She pushes to stand, nearly falling, and shoves our hands away. “Fuck you…Fuck both of you.”
“Lydia—”
“No, don’t Lydia me! You don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in your own damn head all the time, stuck in memories you can’t get out, no matter what you do. You don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ll go insane if it doesn’t stop.”
I don’t know what to say. All I want to do is wrap her in a hug and take the shit she’s been through away, hold it for her so she doesn’t have to.
“I found a way to shut it off,” she says, “so I fucking took it, okay?”
“This isn’t the way,” Lani tells her, but her voice cracks as it comes out. “You could end up killing yourself.”
“Yeah? What if I told you I don’t give a fuck if I do?
“You don’t mean that…” I say so quietly that I’m not sure anyone hears me.
My heart is cracking open, and I can’t stop it. The thought of losing her makes me physically ill.
“Screw you. Screw both of you,” she tells us. “You only judge me because you don’t fucking know what it’s like.” She waves a hand between us. “With your perfect little happy lives, how could you?”
“That’s not fair,” I argue. “Nobody’s life is perfect.”
She throws her hands up and laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry.
That’s right. I forgot. Your boyfriend is trying to dump you and is probably a couple of states over right now, fucking as many college girls as he can because you’re the only pussy he’s ever gotten, and he’s finally gotten tired of it.
Such a sad fucking story. At least he didn’t beat the fuck out of you until you couldn’t get out of bed…
just to go and fucking kill himself in front of you and blame you for all the fucked up things he did to you!
Face it, Simone! You’re too perfect sometimes.
He probably got so fucking bored with you that he wanted to blow his own brains out.
So he would rather just dump you instead and go live his life, not wanting to be drained by you any longer! ”
I feel the tears running down my face before I even register that I’m crying.
I don’t know who this girl is standing in front of me.
Lydia—my best friend—has said a lot of hurtful things over the years when she was hurting…but nothing…nothing this deep.
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or the pain I feel for her…or the fact that she’s probably fucking right. But I feel like someone just stabbed several knives into my chest and is just standing there, letting me bleed out.
The front door bursts open, and Tank stumbles past us, leaping off the porch toward a car idling at the curb.
I didn’t even know he was at this party.
All of our heads turn, and I see Mason in the passenger seat.
Our eyes lock, and I wipe away the tears, feeling embarrassed.
He yells at Tank to hurry up, and then they’re gone.
“We’re taking you home,” Lani says. “Let’s get in the car.”
“No,” she snaps. “I’m walking.”
“It’ll take you over an hour to get back on foot—”
“Don’t care,” she spits, walking off and not even turning back.
I can’t move. I can’t even breathe. Everything hurts.
I’m confused.
I’m mad.
I’m fucking sad.
I hate all of this so much.