49. Lydia
Lydia
I’ve been hiding for weeks now—late nights staying out, passing out on random couches, and staying at Atlas’s place when I have nowhere else to go.
I still can’t stand to face Simone or Lani.
Atlas has a girlfriend now, you know. Cute.
Always around. Nice enough. Fun to get high with, I guess.
But sadly, the inconvenience of that now means I only get the drugs from him and a couch to sleep on sometimes.
The rest—the attention, the distraction, the sex I was also using him for—I now have to find somewhere else.
Which is fine, you know. I guess it pushed me to stop being so scared of what happened or whatever.
When I really started to need it again, like I was going through withdrawals, I had to go back to my old methods.
Hated that at first. The chase wasn’t fun anymore, too clouded with anxiety, but still fueled by this need that had to be satisfied.
I hated the way my hands would shake trying to undress a stranger, scared I wouldn’t be able to turn back if I wanted to.
I even bailed a couple of times, not being able to do it, being too trapped in my head about it all.
Other times, I’d have to be high enough not to feel anything at all.
I don’t know why I keep doing it. I don’t even remember it half the time.
Maybe that’s the point, though. It’s just…
another addiction. An illusion. A hit of borrowed closeness and intimacy to trick my brain into wanting to stay here.
Endorphins lying through their teeth—this feels good, you feel good, stay.
Even when it fades right after, and it always fades. So you just chase it. You always chase it. You keep chasing it until you burn yourself out and question what the point of any of this really is.
Other than the constant self-destruction and lack of self-respect, I’ve mostly just kept busy with school.
I pay just enough attention to keep my grades at a passing level and keep my place here.
Because let’s face it, what else do I have?
Where would I even go if I weren’t here?
This was the place I used to escape everything else…
and now it’s become just another place I feel trapped in.
I have nowhere else. Nothing else. If I fail out, there’s no next plan.
No next place. It’s just…me. And I’m the place I can’t outrun.
I don’t go back to the dorm until I’m sure the hallway’s quiet. It’s past midnight, and I’m praying the girls are asleep. I stand in the hall of our floor, forehead against the wall, waiting for the anxiety to pass. Maybe I can just grab clothes and disappear before anyone notices.
I slowly open the door, trying to slowly catch a glimpse of the room. The lights are low, and I see the TV’s on.
Shit.
I see Simone on the futon with a blanket tugged over her, and Lani is at the small corner desk in sweats, twisting a pen through her fingers. The TV screen is frozen on a paused YouTube haul because they must have been talking.
No one says anything when they notice me.
I drop my bag by my bed. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Lani says, cautiously.
Simone takes a breath. “Thought you might have dropped off the side of the earth.”
“I…” I start to say something…but I don’t know what to say, still too embarrassed to face them.
“You didn’t think we’d be here, did you?”
I shake my head.
Simone just nods. “Do you still plan on staying here, or should we put in a request for a new roommate?”
The question hurts, her tone hurts, this all fucking hurts. Because I know I hurt her. I know I deserve to feel this way. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.
“Simone—”
She shakes her head, stopping me. “Don’t, it doesn’t matter. You don’t want to be here; you’ve made that clear.”
Lani just watches, indifference written on her face. I know she’s on Simone’s side here. It’s the right side to be on.
“I’m sorry. I—” the apology spills out. “I didn’t mean any of what I said at that party. I was out of my head, and I was hurting, I…I’m so sorry, Sim…” I turn to Lani. “And you, too, Lani.”
Simone’s face cracks a little, but not enough to let me off the hook. “You said things that don’t get unsaid just because you were hurting.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I know. I was a complete bitch to you two. I was just scared of you seeing me like that…and angry at myself, honestly. I took that all out on you when I shouldn’t have. I don’t—” My voice wobbles. “I don’t want to be that kind of person.”
Simone sits up, pulling her blanket off and leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, watching me. “I love you,” she says gently. “I always will. But I can’t be your punching bag. Not anymore, Lyd.”
I nod, having to look away before I get choked up. “Okay.”
I can still feel her watching me, though, like she’s searching for her best friend behind all this mess—the girl she met in middle school that was never this cruel. “You can’t do that, you can’t say things like that and then just disappear.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s why I hid it all from you in the first place.
I hate hurting you. You’ve always been there, always taken care of me, always pulled me out of my own shit…
and—I don’t know, I was just tired of you having to do that, having to fix me, having to look out for me.
I hate myself for being the kind of friend that you need to do that for.
You’re too good of a friend to me, and I really don’t deserve you sometimes. ”
It’s silent as we all just sit there. Then Lani stands up, walking to our mini fridge and grabbing a water to hand to me.
The gesture feels like a small lifeline she’s handing me, one I don’t deserve.
Simone swallows. “Is the drug thing…a thing?” She winces at those words. “Like—how much are you doing, Lyd?”
I feel the lie form before she even finishes asking me. “Not much, I promise. It’s honestly rare,” I say, trying to casually laugh. “Like…only a handful of times. At parties. I swear.”
Lani leans a hip on the desk, eyes on me, calling bullshit from a mile away. “What was that in the dorm before, then?”
I pick at the label on the water bottle until it tears off. “I was having a really rough day,” I tell her. “That’s not a regular thing. I swear. I don’t need it or anything.”
“You would tell me if it was more, right? If it was a problem?” Simone asks. Her voice is small now. Not angry, just…scared, which is worse.
“Yeah,” I lift my eyes to her so she can see what she wants to see. What she’ll tell herself she sees, because it’s what she needs to believe. “I’d tell you.”
There’s a beat where all three of us know how easy it is to believe a good lie when it makes us feel better—safer.
Simone nods. “Okay.”
Lani exhales through her nose, filing away all the other questions she still has for another time. “So…spring break,” she says, randomly, needing to obviously change the subject. “What are y’all doing?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Haven’t thought about it much.”
I have, actually. Atlas, Kay—his girlfriend—and his roommates are all driving down to Houston. A mess of hotels, beach parties, cheap alcohol, drugs, and the heat. He texted me an open seat, and I sent back a text that basically said maybe.
“My sorority’s going to Fort Lauderdale,” Simone says, smiling, and I can tell she’s excited. Then she looks at me, all serious. “But I’ll stay if you need me to. Do you need me to?”
“Absolutely not,” I say, too fast. “You’re not missing that because of me.”
Her mouth tilts. “I wouldn’t be missing much. Just standing in a decorated beach house with fifteen girls named Kaylee.”
“All spelled differently at that,” Lani adds.
“Exactly,” Simone says, then gives me that look, and I know she’s serious about the offer. But I don’t need it. I’m not going to bring her down with me anymore. I want her to go have fun, not be stuck here babysitting me.
“Cali for me,” Lani says. “Sandro and I are flying home. It’s not my ideal break, but my mom is forcing us to come home.
You should come.” She points at me with the pen.
“We’ll show you all the good food spots, soak up some sunshine, and you can sleep for a week.
I could use the distraction from my family, actually. ”
It’s a nice mental picture. It’s also a city where I would get into the kind of trouble that might be fun in the moment, but would most definitely cost me in the long run.
“I don’t want to intrude, plus Sarah and Mark would be pissed if I went and visited your family before I went back home to see them,” I tell her, which is true, and easier than saying I don’t trust myself to not fuck up in front of you and your family.
“Why don’t you go see them?” Lani asks, trying to push me to do anything but be here alone.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “Dorms won’t be that empty. Maybe I’ll…catch up on sleep.” The lie tastes bitter, not my best, but not my worst.
Simone makes a face. “Gross.” She flops back, then pops back up. “Can we at least go shopping together before I leave? We all need spring break outfits, even if you’re just walking to the dining hall—sundresses, shorts, sunglasses you’ll lose in a couple of days, all of it.”
“Pass,” I say on instinct.
“Not pass,” Lani counters. “You’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for weeks and the same hoodie that looks like it’s seen war. You’re coming.”
“I like my war hoodie,” I mumble. “It’s comfy.”
“Great. Wear it to the mall so we can stage an intervention,” Simone says, already scrolling on her phone, thumbs rapidly firing away. “I’m putting it on the calendar.”
I throw my head back. “Fine.”
They start debating bikinis vs. one-pieces like the world isn’t on fire—mine is at least, but I guess I’ve gotten used to the warmth.
I let their noise wash over me, thankful to be back around them.
Thankful that was easier than I expected it to be.
Sad that I have to keep lying to them. Scared that they’ll hate me when they find out.
My phone buzzes against my thigh.