Page 93 of Strange Lad

We sit in charged silence for a few minutes until the door opens. Shame and embarrassment consume me, so I keep my eyes on my lap. I am not ready to see the disgust—the rejection I know is coming.

How could it not?

The few people that have seen me freak out like that took it personally. And with how much Jorge cares, there’s no way he didn’t view it as a direct attack on him—that I hated what we did. That I saw him as a threat. I wish I could place the blame on him; it’d certainly be easier and relieve me of the toxic thoughts in my brain, but I can’t. It’s me. I’m broken.

I’m the only one who can turn such a beautiful moment black.

“Phoenix,” he rasps, voice cracking.

“I’ll be right back,” Phoenix whispers to me, and they leave me alone in the room.

What’s happening right now is what Jorge has feared for this past year. All of our lies becoming known.

Instead of following him, protecting him, and keeping him safe from Phoenix’s wrath, I’m crippled. So fucking worthless I want the floor to open up and swallow me. Jorge doesn’t deserve to face this alone.

None of this was his fault.

I’m the one who made him promise.

I’m the one who lost my shit for no reason.

I’m the one who pushed him off me like he was a monster trying to eat my heart.

“Fuck,” I whimper, holding my forehead.

The urge to numb it all comes in fast and hot. Like a metal brand scorching my chest, I jerk. I pat down my pockets like I’ll find something in there. Something to take me away from it all. All I find is my cellphone. I pull it out, click the powerbutton, and debate calling Kristen. She’s my unofficial sponsor. I’ve never actually called her before.

I scroll up and see Jorge’s contact ID, his pretty face grinning so brightly for his special picture. The one he took just for me. If I break my sobriety, if I reject the life I’ve created for myself and fall back on my old habits, I’ll lose him for good.

Every moment of the past fifteen months will be fornothing.

“Tell me why!” I hear Phoenix’s guttural scream.

Life rushes back through my limbs, and I jump to my feet. I’m scared to death, but I can’t let Jorge do this alone. It’snothis fault, damn it. I hurry to the front door, out of breath and rigid. Yanking open the door, I am met with three pairs of eyes. The brown pair with flecks of gold smash the broken bits of me into microscopic fragments. I’ve only ever seen him this upset once before, when his grandmother died.

“It’s not his fault,” I rush out, putting my body in front of his. I want to take him into my arms and protect him from my brother, but I can’t. Not yet. Not so soon. “I made him promise me.”

Jorge’s cries are like knives digging into my back, filleting me open.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Oli? I have been waiting for you. You could have come to me with anything.”

Bullshit.

Anger swirls low in my gut as I recall all the times I tried. Sure, two of them stand out the most, but there were countless others. I triedmanytimes. “I did,” I say, low and deadly.

“No, you didn’t. I never knew. I—”

“I did come to you.” I slash my hand through the air, knots forming in my intestines as he tries to deny it like I would lie about this shit. “I begged you to talk to me, and you didn’t.” He fucking didn’t.

The one person I trusted enough to tell, the one person whosworeto always be there for me, and he left me in the dust.

“When? When?!” Phoenix yells. Denial is ugly on him.

“Eight years ago!” I yell right back. “I told you to yourfaceI needed to tell you something important!” My chest heaves as emotions I have tried so hard to ignore come flooding to the surface.

Blinking through fresh tears, Phoenix shakes his head. Still clinging to denial. “Rosie’s funeral? Oli, I was fucking grieving!” Excuses. Endless excuses.

“So was I! Grieving the death of my goddamn soul!” Becauseyourfriend raped me. I want to say it. God, I want to fucking scream it to the heavens and beyond.

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