Spiral

Chapter EIGHT

Seph

"You don't think I'm disgusting?" I ask Kian, my voice quiet and my head against his chest.

"Seph, I think you're amazing, and beautiful." His arms tighten around me. "We all have flaws."

"What are yours?" I want to know. I'm talking into his chest.

   "Besides drug dealing?"

I pull back and look up at him. "Yeah."

He considers this for a second. "I'm really bad at math."

"Not sure if that's the same as mine."

He laughs a bit and I step back. "I guess you're right."

I look at him for a minute and really think this all through. We're very different. But he knows me at my worst and he's not running away. I turn and go back to the open truck door and hop back in. He doesn't immediately follow me and I can't help but wonder if he's considering his next move, too. When he does come back to the truck, he's quiet. Once he's beside me again, he looks over. I'm looking straight ahead.

"Is that why you said you're already dying?" he asks, calmly. as he puts the truck into drive.

I'm confused. "What?"

"The night we met. I told you that smoking will kill you. It was a joke. But you said I'm already dying."

He remembered that? Even I forgot I said that to him that night.

"Yeah. I guess." I glance out the window. Everything is so dark as he gets back on the road to bring me home.

"Seph... I want to help you."

My hands need something to do so I pick up the water bottle and take a big sip. He keeps driving but glances at me because I ignore him.

"Seph."

   "You can't help me," I snap. I don't know why I'm snapping at him. We just had a really nice moment leaning against his truck in the parking lot.

"Why not?"

I take in a deep breath. "I don't know how to stop. It's been three years of this and it feels like I'll never be normal."

"Can I help by being someone you can call if you need to talk?" he wants to know.

I know he's just trying to help but it's annoying me for some reason. My parents think that if I just eat or just stop this, I'll be fine. It doesn't work like that.

"Yeah. Maybe."

   "Can I help by... caring about you? And wanting you to be healthy?"

"I don't know how that helps."

He winces at that and I know it was stupid to say but I'm sick of people thinking I can just stop doing this because someone wants me to. I have an illness. An addiction. I need more than someone caring about me.

"How long have you smoked?" I ask, because I want to try to explain this to him.

   "Like four years."

"And it's addiction, right? You crave it? You feel better when you get that first inhale?"

Kian looks annoyed for a second and then nods.

"I smoke because I love it. I like how it makes me feel. But I avoid food because I'm addicted to looking a certain way. When I was a gymnast, I liked how I looked and felt. But after I broke my foot I was stuck in the hospital and in bed and I gained weight. I lost that feeling that I had been so attached to. That's when I started to eat less. And what I did eat, I... got rid of it."