Page 78 of Not Dating Material

“Yeah, but as we’ve already established tonight, I’m not the standard to base anything off of.”

“Whatever you say, Seven.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like … it has meaning.”

“Maybe if I say it like that enough, you’ll finally believe it.”

“I can promise you that will never, ever be the case. But thanks for trying.”

Little does he know that I’m never going to give up on him.

The others come back not long after, and we spend the night playing drinking games and getting way too sloppy and hungover for the swim Elle drags us to the next morning. It’s not until we’re driving home the next afternoon, my head heavy with dehydration, that I realize for the first time since moving into the house I haven’t felt like the odd one out. I’m not sure if it will last, but I’ll hold on to that feeling for as long as I can.

Chapter 21

SEVEN

My least favorite time is night. When it’s dark. The house is silent. My thoughts get too loud. Some people say they can’t remember their childhood, or only parts of it, and I wish I was that lucky.

For me, those memories are a constant. The haunting faces, the brutal hands. The tightening in my stomach deepens, twists, making my body feel like I might lose control. I roll onto my front, face buried in the pillow I’m clutching onto, but it doesn’t help. I’ll take a monster in my closet any day over the ones that exist in my head.

Times like this, I wish I could reach out to Xander. Text him to come here and let me hold him like I used to when we were younger, but I hate putting that on him because then the memories will get him too. Xander has way too many other things going on in his head to fit all the things in mine as well.

Xander’s issues come from his neglect.

Mine come from having way too much attention.

I draw my knee up to my chest, fingers finding the Medusa tattoo on my foot. It’s easy enough to remind myself I’m safe now; I’m bigger, stronger, the protector. But that damned kid inside me won’t stop pressing his feelings on me, won’t stop trying to drag me under with him.

Everything feels so … hopeless. Dark. What’s the point of even fighting when it’s not like my situation is uncommon? I’m just another washed-up statistic.

The isolation, the loneliness, the rampant thoughts sweeping me under are so hard to fight against. Xander helps, he always does, but I will never, ever ask for it, and unless he comes to me while I’m already like this, I’m good at hiding.

Fighting the depression in my chest, I throw off my blankets, force myself out of bed, and pull on some sleep shorts, then head for the home office.

The stillness of the house presses against me as I walk, but when I drop down into my desk chair, hear the familiar purr of my computers waking up, some of the panicky feelings lessen. I still feel like shirtsleeves, still want to bow forward and let myself cry, but I resist the urge.

The click of the keys is loud as I log in to my fan site.

Kill Diver is a retro video game turned blockbuster movie turned universe. There are books, a TV series, spin-offs, all along with the conspiracy theories, and I’m deep in it all. One of the short-term foster homes I stayed in after I was beaten so badly that child services stepped in had the video game, and from there, I was hooked. I started my site at the local library, before Kill Diver was much of anything. It was a place I could hide, could build up an obsession about this world I loved, and lose myself in it for hours.

I never expected a community. I never expected the fan fiction options to explode or the fan art to be shared there constantly. We’ve got chat threads and topics about every part of the universe, and it’s growing more popular and active every day.

I have no idea what I’d do without this community. I’m protective of it. Even Xander doesn’t know how deep it all goes.

Is Omron actually Diver?

That theory always makes me smile because it’s a common one, and everyone who posts about it thinks they’re the first to have figured it out. It would be a mind melt if it was true—the whole objective of the game is for Omron to hunt down and kill the character called Diver. The problem is, no one knows if Diver actually exists.

Making your audience question everything sure is one way to build a franchise, and at this point, I think I’ll be disappointed if Diver is ever revealed. That’ll mean things are all over.

I write back to the comment thread and then answer a few more. Unlike how blunt I can be in real life, I’m gentle with my replies, wanting to make sure that the forums are a safe space for anyone like me. I’m quick to boot out troublemakers, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.

Slowly, the panic and wildfire thoughts dry up, and I’m engulfed by the fictional world. Fully immersed, to the point reality ceases to exist and the world of Kill Diver is the only one.

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