Messy

Jared

He took me seriously. The idiot. This whole situation is very entertaining.

But you know what? We might as well do it. Rid the world of a dark force.

Evan and I are meeting up today. He's supposed to meet me in my truck. We're going to the gym where nobody will be able to hear us over the machines and buff dudes working out. It's the perfect place to plot. It's where I go to spend time alone. Watch movies on my laptop and listen to music and do schoolwork.

Ha. Can you imagine? The Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman. Doing his homework? Ridiculous. Absolute insanity.

I just kind of don't do my homework. Then, when tests come around, I just get 100% on everything because I'm a genius. It makes people mad. They study for tests and do their homework, 50 or less. Me? Always a high score. I'm just that cool. But I'm not smart. I do a lot of stupid stuff. Like just yesterday, I convinced someone to... Well, let's pretend that's the dumbest thing I've ever done. Even if it isn't.

I've been waiting in my truck for fifteen minutes. Finally, Evan climbs into the passenger side of the truck. My meeting with Evan today is helpful to the truck. So my parents will pay for my car insurance.

"So you finally decided to show up." I comment.

"Sorry. Mr. Kelly wanted to chat after class."

I laugh. "What about?"

"I wasn't really paying attention." He sounds nervous.

And of course he would be nervous. We're doing something horrifying and illegal. It doesn't sound fun, does it? I would be scared if I was him.

But I'm not scared. Why should I be?

Okay, there are obvious reasons that I should be scared.

But I've made myself numb to pretty much everything. I don't do "feelings" anymore. Not since eighth grade...

I don't want to talk about what happened in eighth grade. Maybe later. It's the only thing I feel anymore. The hurt. I'm either feeling nothing, or I'm feeling the wound in my heart. It's still there and it still hurts worse than anything I've ever felt in my life.

Back to the real world. Back to now.

"So..."

"We're really doing this?" Evan stops me. He's picking at the hem of his shirt.

"Only if you say so." It's mean of me to make him choose. I don't care. He deserves to feel pain.

"P-people can't see the letter. It will end me."

"So we're doing it."

"Yeah, I guess."

A moment of awkward silence passes.

"I can't believe this is the first time I've actually had a conversation with you since..." Evan says, trailing off.

So he wants to talk about that.

I don't.

I don't want to talk about it.

"I can." Is all I say. Quick and cold. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"You don't wanna talk about it." It isn't a question, but it seeks approval.

"I never want to talk about it."

I never want to talk about it. I think about it every day, though. I will never forget.