No Name | Completed

Chapter 69 - Fall

"My name is Alice Dessen. I'm from the New England area—"

A snoring sound came from the phone and my face fell.

"Seriously Jess—" My heart stopped. "Adam, I mean, I'm sorry." I tossed my notebook to the table and rest my head into my hands. Squeezing my eyes tight, I sighed, fighting the overwhelming urge to cry.

"Alice," he said quietly. "You sure you don't want me to come down for a few days?"

I swallowed, taking in one deep breath at a time and after a few daunting seconds, I sat up straight and smoothed my hair in the process.

"No, I'm good."

I was. Good, I mean. It had been almost four months since I got back to Texas and everything was good. Classes were good. The songs I had been writing were good. Even our football team this year was good.

"Are you sure?" He pushed. "I heard about—"

"Don't!"

My heart rate was up, my hands were clenched.

"I'm sorry, hey," he paused and I could almost imagine him scooting closer to me. "I'm sorry, No Name."

"Don't be," I breathe out, releasing the pen from my fist. I watched it roll off the couch and bounce to the wood floor.

Silence. I hated silence. I would do just about anything to avoid the echo of my own thoughts. Things would start to look up and then, bam! His damn face would pop up.

"Look, I don't mean to pry, but did you," he pushed. "Did you go to the doctor?"

I didn't blame him for fearing the question. In my defense, it was a touchy subject.

Almost two months ago I began having what I thought were asthma attacks. I was sent to the campus clinic and after a few tests, it turned out they were panic attacks.

I didn't take it well. In fact, I refused to believe it. Looking back, I was slightly embarrassed by my deliberate head in the sand. How kind the doctor must have been to let me try to convince myself it was indeed an asthma attack.

Jared flew down after Lissa and Demi completely tattled on me. He stayed a week and we fought everyday over whether or not I should take the medication they recommended. He wanted me to obviously. I defended myself. After all, I made it through my father's death without it. I could make it through this.

"No, it's better actually." I brushed some dust off of the pen and set it back on the table.

"Really?"

"Yep."

I could hear him shift positions.

"Are you eating again?"

A rage began to boil inside of me. I was so sick and tired of people asking me questions. I was good.

"Yes, dad."

"Okay, okay, let's get back to your work."

I rolled my shoulders and cracked my neck to try and release some tension, ready to change the topic to anything else.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, so your beginning sucks. Honestly, remind me the point of this again?"

"It's our final project that's due at the end of the program. They want us to write our life, but like in a story form." I laid on the couch and covered my eyes with my arm. "They believe it helps us detach so we can write objectively."

"I get that I guess."

"Yeah, we're supposed to write a song around it in the end."

"So why do you have to do it now?"

"Because," I sighed. "People like Brayden exist and they want to make sure we're putting our all into it the entire time."

Adam chuckled. "What a story you'll have."

"Brayden's is probably about girls and cows."

He laughed harder. "There she is," he said softly.

Yeah, here I am.

"Told you," I said. "I'm good."

"Are you going home next week?" He asked.

"For what?" I asked, grabbing my notebook again.

"Thanksgiving," he said, dragging out the word like I should have known.

"Oh right, no"

He was silent.

"Because of him?" he asked cautiously.

"No, Adam, because of the girl he's dating. Look, I've got to go, I'll call you later."

Before he could protest, I pressed end and tossed my phone onto the coffee table.

Tears were prickling at the corner of my eyes and I could feel it again. The heat, it was spreading.

"Just breathe Alice," I whispered to myself.

In...out...in...out...in...out...in...out.

I snatched a pillow from the couch as the tears finally fell free.

I threw open the balcony door and quickly laid on the patio floor, hugging the pillow to my chest.

I couldn't control the sobs, they were ugly, they were deep. I wasn't even sure where they were coming from because while I knew I was heartbroken, this was so stupid.

In. Out.

He's dating her.

In. Out. In. Out.

I hate him.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

I love him.

In.

And there was the truth.

Out.

Just when I realized how I felt about him, he was gone.

In.

I lost him.

Out.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears soak my hair, but it was slowing. It always did. It always passed, but the thoughts that it brought on...those were the knives to my already open wound.

It was exactly why I would not be going home.

I couldn't handle seeing him. Christmas was inevitable, but that at least gave me an extra month to get this under control, to move on.

I let out a deep, shaky breath.

This is your chance. A chance to tell your story in a way that will heal you and break others. A chance to remind the world they're only human. A chance to see yourself in the mirror and to finally understand the meaning, 'broken is beautiful.' The song that will come out of it is determined by your willingness to explore yourself, to revisit dark places, to write some endings so you may have new beginnings. Good luck.

I swallowed and sat back up.

"I can do this," I whispered to myself. "I can't quit."

You have the gift.

It struck me, but not as fearfully as it used to. It was getting easier, revisiting his memories.

And for him, the man who was the sole reason I was in the program, I would do it. I would tell my story. Even the parts that were still painfully happening.

I stood and walked into the bathroom, flipping the sink on. I splashed my face with water to cool my skin that felt like a live wire.

I shut the water off and dried my face off. When I pulled the towel down and rest it back on the rack, it revealed my messy reflection. My hands were shaking and my face was red with swollen eyes.

I would do it for the girl in the mirror, the girl who has been through too much to let Jesse Vanderlin be the last straw.