My Love, My Drug, My Release

Chapter 66: Loneliness

I don't know how long I spent sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into space, the void filling my lungs instead of oxygen. It's hard to appreciate the sun until it falls out of the sky, submerging you in cold darkness. I took Thelma for granted, assumed she'd always be there for me, that she'd always love me, but just because some emotionally stunted rockstars fancied me, it didn't mean I was anything special. On the contrary, I took advantage of her, betrayed her trust, abused her sexuality- the fact that lesbian partners for teenage girls were few and far between- to cement her to my side, but I failed. I deserved loneliness.

"Lo?!"

Paul's voice snapped me out of my trance. I could smell the pizza he'd brought from lunch but, despite not having touched the salad my girlfriend- ex-girlfriend, now- prepared for me, I felt queasy at the idea of eating.

Not in the mood to see the man I cheated on Thelma with last night, I barrelled up the stairs before he made it to the kitchen but, instead of going to my room, I entered Jack's.

He was lying on his bed, shirtless, flipping through a Playboy magazine absentmindedly.

"Jesus Christ, Lo!" he shouted, throwing the magazine off to the side and sitting up against his headboard anxiously. "I could have been naked or wanking off, what the fuck are you-"

"Did you do it?"

He cocked a dark, bushy brow curiously. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"Did you attack Mr. Grant?"

My brother's upper lip twitch briefly before he sniffed and folded his arm. "No, I haven't seen him since before I ran away."

"Good, because he died in hospital, so the cops are looking for a murderer."

"What?!" His blue-green eyes bugged open in terror. "He died?"

"No, that was a test, and you failed."

"Well, what did you want me to do, Lo?" He jumped out of bed, redoing his belt and searching for his shirt. "The guy forced himself on you, did you expect me to sit on my ass and let him get away with it?"

"I expected you to be smart. You're an adult now; if you assault someone, you can go to jail."

Jack flipped his hand, dismissing my concern. "No one saw me, not even your teacher; I hit him from behind."

I laced my fingers through my hair, infuriated. "That's not the fucking point!"

"Then what's the fucking point?"

Before I could respond, the door swung open, Paul stepping over the threshold, tugging at his beard, concerned-looking. "I heard shouting; is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Jack snapped. "Jesus, doesn't anyone in this house knock."

A muscle in my stepdad's jaw twitched, but he decided to let it go. "Okay, well, lunch is here. I brought pizza in case either of you want some."

"Thanks."

My brother pulled on his striped, green t-shirt, tucking it into his jeans as he wiggled past Paul. We stood in silence until I heard Jackson's feet thumping down the stairs.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

He crossed the room, brushing his knuckles across the apple of my cheek. "You've been crying."

"No, I haven't."

I pulled away from him, touching my face only to feel wetness on my cheeks. I didn't recall crying, feeling nothing but cold emptiness after Thelma dumped me, but, infuriatingly, Paul knew more about my current state than I did. Despite being willing to beat up Mr. Grant for me, Jack didn't even care to comment on my current emotional state. Though I suppose it wasn't fair to criticize him for that since I barged into his room and immediately started interrogating him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, you're gonna gloat."

"Gloat about what?"

Huffing in annoyance, I pushed past him, leaving my brother's room. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

He caught me by the arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Something's hurting you; let me help."

"You can't help me!" I ripped my arm out of his grasp, breathing heavily. "This is your fault."

"Then let me fix it!"

We stared each other down, Paul with his hands on his hips, feet shoulder-width apart, me with arms wrapped around my torso, chin tucked to my chest. He always stood so powerfully, like a bearded, British superman. I craved that confidence, that sense of righteousness, but I still ended up curled in on myself like a bashful armadillo. Pathetic.

"Thelma dumped me," I whispered, buckling to his fearsome gaze.

His face and stance softened, hazel eyes heavy with concern, but there was also a sigh of relief, a smugness in the curl of his mouth that set my teeth on edge.

"I knew it, I knew you'd be self-satisfied about it, and after you came on to me over and over, made me cheat on her-"

"I didn't make you do anything-"

"And I had to lie to the person I love-"

"You don't know what love is-"

"Fuck you!" I screamed.

After a beat, Jack shouted up from the kitchen, "What's with all the yelling?"

"Don't worry about it," I shouted back. Diverting my eyes from Paul's penetrating gaze, I marched off to my room.

"Do you want me to bring you a piece of pizza?"

"No."

"Wait, Lo, please." He grabbed my doorknob, keeping me from escaping him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said. You know I never intend to hurt you."

My nostrils flared, face red as a hot ember. "And yet you do; you don't mean to hurt me, but it keeps happening. You say I don't know what love is, and yet you say you're in love with me, that you want to marry me. I was normal- I used to be a normal kid- and you ruined my life. Fuck off!"

He refused to release my door handle, even as I attempted to shove past him, jaw tight as steel wires. My rage finally peaked, the anger and resentment bubbling over and burning my insides. I pulled back my foot and gave him a sharp kick in the shin.

Paul grunted in pain, doubling over to clutch his lower leg, and I took the opportunity to dive into my room, locking the door behind me. I waited for his knock, expecting him to beg me to let him inside, to attempt to make things right, and probably end up sleeping with me again, but the knock never came. Maybe he'd finally given up on me. Maybe I was finally all alone.