Sam and Deena B.S.F (Before Sarah Fier)

Deena Johnson Part 8

I struggle to think of the last time I hung out with Simon alone. Before it was always with Sam or Kate, but now, I'm thoroughly questioning my absence with someone who I call my best friend. It's weird to think that I wasn't as close as I thought we were.

"Am I an asshole?" I asked Simon while we were in his room, alone. It smelt musky but not in a nauseating way, and his room was painfully blue from his navy-lined walls to his royal blue bed-spread. Simon in his red jacket popped like he was out of place in his own room. He turned to me, he was messing around with his alarm clock that had broken and scrunched his face to my question.

"Uh, why are you asking?"Simon plops into his desk chair, and scoots to his bed where I remain sitting still.

"That's a dumb question, dude. Of course you're an asshole! Someone's gotta be." He said in a joking way. "But, like, for reals, what's going on with you? You're so tense, tenser than usual. It's killing my vibe, man."

I roll my eyes and lay back in his bed.

"Is this about Sam-- sorry, I mean, 'The One Who Shall Not Be Named'?"

"You can say 'Sam', I don't care." Simon scoots in to me closer.

"Seems like you do." He said, poking my side. I turn over so my back's facing him. I hear him sigh and get up, jumping onto his bed.

"Talk to me, I'm a fantastic listener. I listen to Kate drone about cheerleaders and Student Body, all that shit. You'll feel better afterwards, I can guarantee you that. The Simon Special. " Simon sits with his legs crossed, he reminds me of a preschooler, he acts like it too. I sat up to face him, my legs crossed too.

"I don't know what to say." I struggle to make eye contact with him.

"Just spill your thoughts. Even if it's a little stupid." I take a moment to think hard on what to say because there are a million things racing in my head but they all have to do with Sam.

"OK, here, what if I ask you questions and all you have to do is just answer." I nod and wait for him to ask away.

"How are you feeling?" I shrug because genuinely, I don't know what I'm feeling. I get confused with my own emotions. I don't know if I'm angry or if I'm just disappointed in myself. I don't know if I'm pissed at Sam or if I just miss her.

"I dunno I... I feel so much but nothing at all? Fuck, this was dumb, nevermind." I go to lay back down, but Simon grabs my hand and forces me to stay.

"No, no, stop. Dude, it's okay. You're feeling a lot of things right now, right?" I nod.

"What are you feeling? Anger, depression, what?"

"Both, I guess, I don't know."

"Is it because of her?"

"Not sure..." My voice trails off, I have nothing left to say. I didn't expect to feel myself forming tears in my eyes. I look down so he can't see, but the tears fall onto his royal blue comforter and I feel Simon's hands come to my face and he wipes my tears while looking at me with such soft eyes. I lean into him and he welcomes me into his arms and I just sob. He squeezes me tight and I melt into him more. He's always been a good hugger.

I remember we were like ten and Simon was teaching me how to ride his skateboard he'd gotten for his birthday. It was summer, so the asphalt was so hot and rough and I was going down a small hill in Simon's neighborhood. We'd spent the whole afternoon riding down that hill and Simon being himself, he'd fallen at least a dozen times and scraped his legs and arms on that hot road but every time he'd fallen, he got back up immediately and didn't even yell or cry. He'd give me the board for my turn and cheered me on. And then on one of my turns I hit a rock on the hill and the board flew off from my feet, and my helpless body dragged itself all the way down that burning asphalt. I stopped right at the bottom of that hill and began to scream and cry at the piercing scrapes on my hands and knees and Simon came rushing to me. He was on his knees, his knees and legs covered in similar cuts and scrapes, but he didn't yelp or anything, he just grabbed me up and held me and just hugged me until I stopped screaming into his chest. Then he walked me back to his house and his mom and Simon helped wash and cover my wounds up. Afterwards we watched cartoons in his living room and that's all I can remember.

I thought of that memory as Simon held me in his arms and I stopped crying after a while. He felt so warm, so comforting and fuzzy. I felt his hand on my head and he just held me there.

"I feel so alone, Simon." I said, my voice delicate.

"But you're not alone. I'm right here, man." He pulls away so I can look him in the eye. "You've got me still. Always. And Kate, but she's not here, but other than that, you've got me. I'm not so terrible, right?" He said with a little laugh at the end. I smile briefly and wipe my face with my sleeve. I remain silent while he thinks.

"Oh... I see." He continues, "So this is about Sam then. Hmm."

"Why is everything about her? It's like my whole fucking life has been swallowed up and digested by her and I can't escape it."

"You make it sound like it's such a bad thing." He said.

"Is it not?" I say, my voice getting harsh.

"No? It isn't. Well, I mean to you right now at this very moment, yeah it's a bad thing for you. Which I get, but the way I see it, it's a beautiful thing you and Sam have. Or had..."

I fall into my hands and Simon stammers on, trying to recover my attention.

"Forget I said that! Never mind it. What I'm trying to say is that, whatever you and Sam have or had, it's still a thing to cherish and be happy for."

"What are you even saying, Si?"

I watch him smile, his big goofy smile and his voice gets a little higher.

"It's the way you looked at her, man. Whenever we were in a group, I would

catch you just staring at her with the little smirk you do, and I could feel it. I could feel the electricity between you two, it was magical, even for me! I don't know, you don't get a ton of those moments in life, dude. And when you do, you have to recognize it and take it by the balls and make it your own! I feel like you forgot to enjoy it, man."

"What's left for me to enjoy? It all fucking sucks, because I think back to the

good shit with her, and I know it's a solar system away for me to get that back. I can sit here and enjoy all of our memories but after, what am I left with? Nothing. Why should I let myself suffer with what I had, when I can just let it all go?"

Simon shakes his head and grabs my shoulders so he knows I'm listening.

"Let yourself feel broken, Deena. Give yourself time to just feel it all out. You

don't, right? You don't let yourself feel anything that's uncomfortable for you. Yeah, it makes all the hurt go away for a while, but that shit adds up, you know?"

I shake my head, sucking in my teeth. Tears began to well again but I could care less if Simon sees.

"I'd rather not feel anything than feel anything at all."

I've gotten so used to shoving any form of emotions down my throat so I don't have to feel it and get all gushy and whatever. I'd rather be numb instead of feeling pain and having to experience that because it hurts too much to endure. Being vulnerable is like a chore to me. It's too much work being emotional. Making myself move on even when the pain is indescribable is easier than making my way through all of it when I don't even know if I could survive it in the end.

Simon looks at me, his eyebrows slightly down, he looks sad for me.

"Don't pity me, Simon. It's the last thing I want right now." He sighs, rolling his eyes.

"You can't expect me to sit here and not want to help you. I can see it in your face and you just want me to do nothing?" He said, in a helpless tone. "You're one hell of a fool to think I wouldn't do shit for you." He said as I looked down. He puts his hand on my shoulder and just keeps it there. 

I see his eyes trailing off behind me and I turn around. Simon's street is covered in a white sheet of snow. I look back to him and he's smiling. He looks at me and then jumps out of bed and runs out of his room. I hear the front door slam, and see Simon outside in his front yard, wearing just shorts and his red zip-up. He leans over and forms a snowball while shaking his hands from how cold it is, and throws the snowball at the window and I jolt, but laugh. He gestures for me to join him and so I do. We threw snowballs at each other until our fingers went numb. 

We laid in the snow and watched the gray sky turn dark. It was freezing, but after a while, it felt like nothing.