My fingers start to hurt just as the sun starts to rise. I finally put down the charcoal when the first colors come in the window, soft and golden. I drink a cup of water and listen to people using the toilet down the hall, the sounds of Leonard shuffling to the porch to drink coffee out of his pink mug.
My head is bursting from the beer. My eyes hurt and my mouth tastes terrible. I’m grateful that I don’t have to be back at True Grit for two more days. I peel off my clothes and sink to the futon and fall into a deep sleep.
—
When I wake up, it’s the afternoon, and my room is sweltering hot. I made it through the night, but I’m still jittery and tense. I want to talk to someone, but the only person I know is Mikey, and now I’ve probably ruined that. I decide to go to the library and email Casper. Like, maybe I should tell her I’ve failed, now, by drinking, by throwing myself at Mikey.
Outside, the heat is stifling already, but I don’t want to not wear my overalls because I feel more comfortable, protected, somehow, with them on. I go back into the apartment building and knock on Leonard’s door. He lends me a pair of scissors without a word. Upstairs, I cut a couple of pairs of overalls off at the knee. That way, I might be cooler, but my thighs are still hidden.
I’m sweating profusely by the time I get to the library. Everyone else seems so cool, even in this heat. Maybe I’ll get used to it after a while. There’s a thermometer outside the library. Ninety-seven degrees and not a cloud in sight.
I log on. I reply to Blue first, because I know she’ll know how I feel, exactly.
Dear Blue,
I am my own worst disaster. I did something stupid to someone. I just wanted to feel better. My own body is my deepest enemy. It wants, it wants, it wants, and when it does not get, it cries and cries and I punish it. How can you live in fear of your very self ? What is going to happen to us, Blue?
I wait, stupidly, like she’s going to respond right away. Of course she can’t—she’ll have to wait to sneak a turn at the computer and who knows when that will happen. But just writing it eases something in me.
And then I write to Casper, because I should tell her what I did. I tell her I drank three beers, that I tried to kiss Mikey, that I did kiss Mikey, and that he didn’t like it. But I also tell her I didn’t cut, even though not cutting made me exhausted.
I press Send. I just sit at the terminal for a little while, watching the people in the library. The longer I sit and watch them as they pick books, whisper on their phones, fall asleep in chairs, the more lonely I feel, the more weighted down inside. Everyone seems to have a grip on life but me. When is anything going to get better?
Mikey is waiting on the front steps of the building when I get back, a grocery sack next to him on the top step. I panic a little and start to walk past him, but he pulls the buds from his ears and grabs my hand.
He says, “Hey. Charlie. Don’t do this shit, okay? Sit down.”
I drop down heavily, avoiding his eyes, trying to block out the scent of him, the nearness.
Down the block, the line outside the plasma bank moves like a slow snake. I wipe sweat from my forehead self-consciously. I bet Bunny never sweats.
“Hey, look what I brought for you.” Mikey parts the top of the grocery sack so I can see what’s inside: a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, an apple, and an orange. I sigh. I’m so sick of peanut butter.
I pull out the apple, rub my thumbs over its shininess. “Thank you,” I say softly.
He clears his throat. “What happened, that can’t happen again. That was…not good. Kissing.”
A stinging, a tightening in my chest. Angrily, I say, “You kissed back, you know, before you…didn’t.”
“And you drank. I tasted the beer. You promised.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s a whisper, spoken to the sidewalk.
“Is that the only thing you’ve had to drink since you’ve been here?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yes!”
He sighs. “Charlie, do you know why I decided to go to college all the way out here? You and Ellis were exhausting. Your little games with each other, with me, that shit tired me out. Did you ever realize that? Probably not. You two were so wrapped up in yourselves.”
“You came to the hospital. You said you didn’t want me to die. I just thought…” My voice cracks. I press my head against my knees to block him out. I want to cry all over again. I thought, I thought? What did I think? That Mikey would like me, dumb little me?
“Of course I don’t want you to die! I never want you to die. You’re my friend. But I didn’t mean that I…that we…”
Mikey goes silent. After a while he says, “This is what it is, Charlie. I’m here, but I’m with somebody. I’ve moved forward. Coming out here really changed something for me. I’ve moved on. I made goals for myself. I want to help you get better, and I will, but I can only help you if you want to be helped.”
I lift up my head, blinking in the daylight. Mikey looks at me head-on.
“Okay?” he asks. He takes my hand. “Are we okay?”
What else am I supposed to say? “Okay,” I answer. “Okay.”
He stands up, all business, pulling me with him. The apple tumbles off my lap. Like the good person he is, he jogs down to the sidewalk to get it.
