Dizzy

“Hey.” Paul steps in front of me. “Is this a personal conversation or can I join?”

Without replying, I shake my head at him.

“Dylan, let’s just chill. You know I’m down for any reason to party, but,” he shrugs. “I mean, I know about everything.”

“Nope. Not going there.” I push open the sliding glass door and go inside. Paul’s right behind me. “We’re not Dr. Phil’in it.”

He grabs my arm as I try to walk into the kitchen for the phone. “Dude, I’m your best friend. I know you, Dylan. Anyone would feel screwed up after all this. I mean, shit, she’s really back after all this time?”

Ripping my arm away, I collapse in the kitchen chair. “You probably know more than I do. I didn’t stick around to find out the particulars, but yeah, she’s back. I don’t care about anything else.”

“I don’t know any more than you do. Your dad called to see if you were with me, told me she was back, and I said I hadn’t seen you and came here.” He scratches his shaved head, obviously about to delve into territory we’re usually not in together. “If you like, wa

I kind of want to... to spill it all, but I can’t.

“You want to help me? Then let’s get this house packed full of people. I want…” I want to forget. “I want to party.”

Paul blows out a breath. “No.”

His words make me stumble. Paul not want to party? Is the whole world falling apart, and I wasn’t told that either? “No? Fine. I’ll do it without you.”

“She kissed that guy in the park, Dylan. I saw it. She didn’t bring us there because she wanted us to have a good time. She did it so she could hook up.”

Red is all I see. I’m shaking as I turn on him. “What the hell are you talking about? Why are you bringing that stuff up now? Why are you lying?”

“Because, bro, it’s time to man up. You know what it was like. I didn’t even live with you, and I know what it was like. She wasn’t happy. Hell, she didn’t give a shit. You’re never going to move on until you wake up and stop rewriting your own fucking past!”

Unable to stop myself, I lunge, toppling into Paul and making him fall to the ground. He rolls, I roll, both of us trying to get the best of the other. My body is on fire. My head is gone now.

“I didn’t rewrite my past! You’re just jealous because she did stuff with us your mom didn’t! How can you say that shit to me?”

Another roll and Paul’s on top. “Because I’m your best friend, and I’m tired of seeing her win. After all this time, I’m tired of seeing her hurt you!”

“So you decided to do it?” I yell at him.

“No! I’m trying to tell you she didn’t deserve you guys. I’m trying to make you have a fucking life and not let her ruin it anymore.”

My hands drop away from him and his from me. I’m sitting on the floor. Water wets my face, ru

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... I just think you need to acknowledge it or whatever. It wasn’t perfect like you want to believe it was.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. I’m not sure if I knew all along and couldn’t admit it, if I blocked it out, or what. But I know.

“I used to hear them sometimes… her yelling at him late at night. I think… I mean, I don’t remember it all, but I’m pretty sure she used to go out a lot. Leave me with Derrick. I thought it was fun.”

But it wasn’t cool, was it? I’m sitting with my knees up, my back against the wall. My arms wrap around them, my head falls forward, and I let it out.

“Why? Why couldn’t I see it before?”

Paul shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s like post-partum depression or something.”

Looking at him, I shake my head. “That’s for pregnant chicks, you idiot. It’s post-traumatic.”

“That, too. Maybe you had both.”

We laugh, and somehow I feel a little lighter. “None of you guys said anything. You, Derrick, Dad. You all just let me go around in freaking La La Land for years.”

“That’s because we like… careforyouandshit.” He scratches his head, so I can’t see his face. He might have mumbled, but I heard him. Even if he didn’t speak, I heard him.

“Yeah… yeah.”

He scoots away, and we both stand up. Now I find it in me to feel a little weird. Not because I don’t trust him or that I think he’d tell anyone, just because… well, I just cried in front of my best friend.

But somehow it doesn’t matter. “Seriously… Thanks.”

Paul holds out his hand, and this time when we bump fists, our hands linger there a little.

“You owe me one, though.” He doesn’t let me ask him what. “Don’t run. You’re not the type. Don’t let this shit eat you alive anymore, Dylan. She doesn’t deserve it. No. You don’t deserve it.”

And he’s right. I have no idea how he got so smart or if he’s always been this smart, but I never saw it. Or he never showed me. He’s right though. I’m tried, so tired of ru

“Can you get ahold of them? Tell them I want her to come here. Her. No one else.”

Paul nods, takes out his phone, and then he’s gone.

Twenty-Four

~ Ziah ~

My alarm is piercing. Even more than normal. I know I fell asleep because I don’t remember Mom coming home and because I’m hanging on the edge of my bed banging the top of my stupid alarm. I snatch my phone off the floor as my fingers finally find the snooze button.

Nothing.

No replies to texts, no voicemails. Nothing. Am I on day two now? Three? Even Derrick said he was headed out of town to find him, leaving his fiancé behind. Tomorrow night is supposed to be the rehearsal di

I really, really thought if one of us was going to screw things up, it would be him. And maybe he is the one screwing everything up, but it’s also me. One or two sentences would have kept him on the phone, but I didn’t say them. At the same time, I could have told him a million different times. “James and I are talking again. It’s awkward, and I’ll never be more than friends with him. But we’re talking.” And I didn’t.

Then when Dylan called, maybe he wouldn’t have hung up. Maybe I could have cheered him up the way he’s done with me over and over. Instead he’s disappeared, and I know that part of it’s my fault.

My heart drops. And then it drops again when I remember my calculus mid-term is today. Time to pretend the last bit of Ziah’s world didn’t just fall apart.

***

There is no concentrating on anything. My brain won’t focus. I’m in this haze of frustration, anger, and sadness. Oh, and sleeplessness.

I feel defeated after calculus. Everyone’s done with our test and is trying to relax and joke around on our last day before spring break. I’m trying to stay awake.

James seems okay. He’s two rows over and a chair up from me. Rachelle is laughing with him in our final few minutes before the bell. And it hurts a bit. She’s not as pretty as me, which I know sounds mean, but she’s definitely sweeter. James looks half-interested, and I’m sure it won’t take much for him to be wholly interested.

I’m staring at the way he’s looking at her. Sort of like the way we started looking at one another more than a year ago. Definitely interested. But cautious. Our eyes catch just before the bell rings. I leap out of my chair to get to the door before he catches me.

Talking to James isn’t high on my list. Except… I sort of left him hanging at my house the other day. Crap.

“Ziah!” He steps up behind me almost touching as I stop at my locker. We may be broken up, but after so much time together, he has no problem invading my personal space.

“What’s up?” I try my best neutral smile.

“No offense, but you look like hell.” He leans sideways on the locker next to mine. It’s not a “James” thing to do. He doesn’t lean.