Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ishould have told my parents I didn’t want a party. It’s tomorrow night, and I’m already dreading it. I know I should be grateful. They’ve spent a lot of money on a lavish gathering for my eighteenth birthday. To me, it’s another night of having to be someone else. Of having to play a role.
I wish I had an appointment with Dr Finn today.
She’d be able to guide me into hopefully not melting down.
Which is exactly what I feel like I’m doing right now.
I should be paying attention to the teacher.
I honestly couldn’t tell you what he’s saying or has said for the last thirty minutes.
I’ve been trapped here in my own thoughts.
I could reach out to Ares. He’s right next to me.
Just touching him can sometimes quiet the noises in my mind.
When I look over at him, he’s scribbling down notes. I don’t want to distract him. So I pull out my journal. I’m still shocked he didn’t read it. He told me he was tempted but left it in the glove box and never opened it.
I don’t know if I would have the same restraint if I had access to all of his inner thoughts.
Dr Finn says I have clinical depression—although I’m not sure I needed a doctor to tell me that. I guess I already knew. I was just in denial about how severe my sadness was. I didn’t want to admit that I needed help.
There’s also the guilt that won’t leave me.
I have no reason to be so depressed. This is something I’ve been talking to Dr Finn about.
She assures me it’s not uncommon for people to suffer with depression without an event to trigger those feelings.
Knowing that doesn’t really help me feel like there isn’t something wrong with me, though.
There are about fifteen different questions Dr Finn gave me as journaling prompts. There are a few that are easy for me to answer, and I tend to stick with those, only choosing the more difficult ones on the odd occasion.
I scribble down the first question I want to answer.
What does your depression feel like right now? Where do you feel it most?
Right now, I’m sitting in math class. My depression feels like a huge wave is heading towards me, and I’m about to get swept out into the darkness. I feel it in my chest, in my stomach, and the sting in my eyes as I try to contain tears that want to fall free.
The next question I answer isn’t always an easy one to recognise. There are days that I don’t feel like I accomplish anything at all. But today, there was something I did that made me feel good.
What is something you accomplished today?
Today I made Ares laugh. Seems like a small thing, but it’s actually not that easy to make the guy laugh. He’s always so serious and doesn’t find a lot of things funny. I liked his laugh. I wish I could hear it more and I want to be the reason he finds joy and humour in the world.
Describe a memory that brings you comfort.
Being at my grandparents beach house for Christmas when I was little. It was always the best time with my family, relaxed and not as formal as other gatherings. I love my grandparents and spending time with them is always great.
That makes me think I should call my grandmother soon. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to her. And I haven’t spoken to my grandfather since he caught me smoking weed that one time.
What is something you’re grateful for today?
Ares. I’m grateful he forced his way into my life. I’m grateful he is so attentive and caring with me. I’m grateful for his patience, and I’m grateful he has made transitioning to this new school so much easier. I’m grateful that he loves me.
My pen drops to the ground. Holy shit. I just wrote that. He loves me. He does, right? I mean, why would he do everything he does if he didn’t? His actions tell me that he loves me. Why? I have no idea, but I do feel loved by Ares.
Ares bends and picks up my pen, holding it out to me. “You okay?” he whispers.
I think I’m in shock. I nod my head, but I need him to know that I appreciate him. Instead of explaining it, I hand him the journal, opened to the page I’ve just written in.
Ares gives me a questioning look but then glances down and reads the page. I wait for him to get to the last question I answered. Without looking back at me, he picks up his pen and starts writing. When he’s finished, he hands the journal back to me.
I look down and read what he wrote.
What I feel grateful for.
I’m grateful I get to love Zara McKinley. I’m grateful she chose me to be her partner, to be her shoulder to cry on, to be the one to lift her up when she’s down. I’m grateful I get to walk side by side with her. I’m grateful she is my world. Most of all, I’m grateful that I’m loved by her.
A tear falls from my eye, but it’s not out of sadness. It’s from an overwhelming sense of being loved. It’s from Ares’s words. I don’t think he will ever know how much they truly mean to me. How would I even begin to tell him?
I stare at my reflection. I’m wearing a light-pink sequined dress.
It ends at my knees with a tiny split up my left thigh.
The thin straps criss-cross at the back of the dress.
Paired with a pair of nude Louboutin strappy heels.
My hair is half down, a pink bow pinned to the back of my head.
My makeup is impeccable, professionally done.
My mum insisted on having a stylist come and help me get ready.
It’s too much. I’m only turning eighteen. I really don’t see why they have to make such a fuss about it. My sister has been messaging me all day, congratulating me on finally becoming an adult.
Turning eighteen is a rite of passage. I get that.
But it also comes with more responsibility.
One of my trust funds got released to me today.
One out of I think five that I have in my name.
They all come at various ages between now and when I turn twenty-five.
But I could easily live off the one I got today.
My children’s children could live off it and never have to struggle or work for anything.
It’s an insane amount of money to be responsible for.
I think I’m going to ask my dad to continue managing it.
I don’t need to have access to billions of dollars.
Why would any teenager need that?
If I’m honest, I guess I’ve always had access to that kind of money.
It’s not as if I’ve ever had to ask for anything.
I simply have a card I swipe and it works.
I’ve never had to look at price tags or think about how those purchases get paid for.
I know I’m blessed. I don’t begrudge my parents for the wealth we have.
They grew up this way as well. Our families’ money goes back generations, and with each new generation, the pot only gets bigger.
Sighing, I turn and check out the back of the dress.
I look good. I know I do. But I don’t feel good.
When I look at myself, I feel like I’m in someone else’s body, living a life I don’t deserve.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be wearing a five-thousand-dollar dress and three-thousand-dollar heels. I didn’t earn this luxury.
I really should have cancelled the party, made up some excuse to my mum as to why I couldn’t do it. I wonder if anyone would even notice if I didn’t go down and join them?
I open the bathroom cabinet to find my favourite perfume. There’s a bottle of sleeping pills in there from last year. I tried them, didn’t like how they made me feel the next day so I stopped.
I pick up the bottle and walk over to my bed. My hand shakes as I stare at it. This could be the answer. It would be easy, right? I wouldn’t feel anything. It would all stop. The pain, the sadness, the guilt. Everything would just end.