30. I forgot
30
I FORGOT
HALLE
Spinning. The sink is spinning… around and around. The motion is dizzying. I hold on to the edges tighter, willing it to all stop. The beer I drank from losing beer pong, the shots I threw back, and the wine the girls handed me all threaten to come rushing back up. I splash cold water on my face, the shock of it helping to distract me from the spinning as I take deep breaths. Shit, I’m really drunk.
Everything was fun at first. My arms went up in the air, swaying back and forth in time with the music, matching the steady pulse beating within me. The night had welcomed me with open arms and excitement. I stare down at my toes, wiggling them for no reason other than it feels good. A quiet giggle falls from my parted lips at the relief it gives my feet.
Tonight, I let everything go, holding my promise to Connor to be his drinking buddy. It didn’t take long for the alcohol to pull me under, its warmth morphing my reality and loosening the ache I carry with me. The hollowness, the constant worry of being judged, and the crippling anxiety crowds bring. The fear of doing or saying something wrong all disappeared the further the night went on. Party games, stolen glances exchanged with Asher, and hours spent dancing with my girls.
Tipping my cup back, I wait for the last sip to hit, but nothing comes. Lowering it, I frown as I peer inside. The emptiness mocks me, and I scoff, sticking my tongue out at the cup. I fight with a different voice inside my head, the one telling me I don’t need another drink. But this carefree feeling coursing through me, the lightness I feel, is addictive and I don’t want it to end. It’s like taking one of my pills, only I’m awake, conscious in the moment. Just one more drink. One more and then I’ll let Asher steal me away.
I amble out to the kitchen, stepping over people who have passed out on the living room floor. The house reeks of sweat, beer, and sins. There’ll be some hard regrets and sore heads in the morning. It’s late into the night, and the party has thinned, moving out to the back with those still standing.
But I come up short the moment I step into the kitchen. Hunter is there, holding Madi in a tight hug. His head is buried in the crook of her neck, his shoulders trembling. Their eyes are closed, lost in the moment that feels like they’re in their own little world. Madi clings to him, her arms wrapped around his back so tightly that I think if she were to let go, he might just break.
Confusion sweeps through me, twisting in my stomach like a storm. I don’t want to intrude on whatever moment they’re sharing, so I step back and turn on silent feet, ready to escape through the back door unnoticed when Hunter’s voice freezes me in place.
“How has it been five years today?”
Everything stops.
Everything goes dark .
The world spins and closes in on itself. My chest tightens as I stare at them, the way they embrace each other. My head tilts to the side, piecing it all together, the nagging feeling I had today, the way Hunter trembles. All it takes is a second.
A second for the snap to happen inside my head.
The lights come back, blinding me. The music roars in my ears, pounding inside my skull. A tidal wave crashes over me, emotions and memories too strong to fight drag me under. My breaths come in short, and I stumble outside, heading straight for the table. No one exists. Nothing exists in this moment. I grab one of the full shots, my hand shaking, and knock it back, letting the burn rush down my throat. I grab another and then another, losing count at my fourth, fifth, maybe more. A hand grips my wrist, stopping me from going for one more, and I shove them off me, not hearing, not seeing. My legs carry me toward the back fence, where I fall to the grass.
My hands slam against my eyes, palms pressing so hard, trying to stop the memories from flooding in, but my mind spirals. Five years, the words echo, and my heart sinks, five years, and my chest hurts, five years, and the guilt seeps in. I start losing control. It’s not going to work. I need to turn it off before it buries me.
I forgot.
How could I forget?
I need it to not hurt. I need it to stop.
Scrambling to my feet, I stagger back inside toward the bathroom. Voices trail behind me in the hazy distance of my mind—Tessa’s sharp with worry and Jace’s laced with concern. Their words blur, asking if I’m okay, but I ignore them, not looking back and slamming the door.
Dropping to my knees and fumbling under the sink, I find the orange bottle, my shaky fingers curling around the cold plastic. I slide down against the door, clutching the bottle to my chest. The alcohol hits me all at once, sudden and unforgiving, and my head grows heavy, lolling to the side as a sob rips from my soul.
“HALLE!” Hunter shouts from the other side, banging on the door.
I pop the lid, the sound sharp and piercing through my ears. Shaking two pills out, my vision blurs around the edges as I stare down at them in the palm of my trembling hand. My mind screams at me to stop, but my heart calls to turn it all off. My breath hitches, closing my fist around the tiny white circles as a numbness wraps around my neck and down my arms.
“HALLE!” Hunter screams, sounding more panicked this time.
He feels miles away, like he’s in a dream, unreachable no matter how hard I try. I pop one pill into my mouth and swallow without a thought. The bitterness clings to my tongue as it sticks to the dry roof of my mouth.
“HALLE!” He slams into the door this time, and I fall forward.
“Shit,” he hisses as he reaches for me, pulling me up into a sitting position, his grip too tight, too urgent.
My eyes open in a glare. “How could you not talk to me about today?” I slur out.
He must sigh because his whiskey-soaked breath hits my face, thick and bitter.
“You’ve been doing so good, I didn’t want to cause you any pain,” he says.
“You have no right,” I say, anger fueling my tone.
He has none.
He wasn’t there .
The memory hits me like a punch to the gut; raw, jagged pain relentlessly crashes into me. My chest heaves, trying to breathe.
“Mom, you home?” I yell into the house, closing the front door.
Ray’s down at the local bar, drinking his stupid ass into a coma. My shift at the craft store flew by, and I couldn’t wait to get home, knowing Mom and I would get a few hours to ourselves.
“Mom!” I call again, louder this time, stepping into her room.
The sound of running water drifts from behind the bathroom door. She must be showering.
“Hey, I’m home,” I say more quietly, opening the door.
I look over at the shower, and everything stops.
“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” I scream inches from Hunter’s face.
The memory presses into me, suffocating me as Hunter tries to talk to me.
“Halle, please, sis. Don’t do this,” he pleads, grabbing at my hands desperately but I push him back.
“You don’t get to decide how I should feel on this day,” I snap, anger ripping through me.
“You didn’t find her,” the words tear at my throat.
Hunter’s face crumbles, and a tear falls from the corner of his eye. “Halle, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have talked to you this morning. We should’ve been remembering her together.”
His words weave through my mind but I don’t hear him.