Page 82 of Outspoken

Even though I've been soberthislong, Brody and everyone else still see me as Volatile Amber, always teetering on the edge of disaster—a little kid who needs to be protected from sticking her finger in electrical outlets. How can I move forward when everyone treats me this way?

As of today, I’m done. If this is how life is sober, I’m fuckingdone.

“How’s the day going?” Frank asks, shading his eyes from the sun to glance up at me from his chair.

I respond with a fake cheerfulness, “Oh, pretty good, so no need to worry yourself. My life is boring and this week will be uneventful.”

He nods. “I'm still here if you need me. How about coming over for dinner tonight? Give an old man some company.”

“I have to study, but how about next week?”

“You know where to find me—sittin' here all by my lonesome.” He gives me a cheesy grin.

I return his smile and then point at his hidden beer. “You ever thought of giving that up? Not that I’m one to talk.”

He clicks his tongue and toes the dirt. “Thought about it. Thought of giving it up so I’m around longer for the grandkids. It’s hard to shake.”

“Very hard.”

He shrugs. “Thinking about it more lately.”

“Well, you’ve got something to live for. I’m sure your grandkids would love to see more of pop-pop.”

He doesn’t smile at my term of endearment like I thought he would. Instead, his bushy white eyebrows tense as he studies me. “You’ve got plenty to live for too, sweetheart. You’re young, with so much ahead of you.”

I look away, feeling equally ashamed and embarrassed—and a little sick that so many people know about my last overdose. “I, um, didn’t mean it like that, just…I know your family will be happy having you around.”

“So will yours.”

Well, this got awkward.

He adds, “Sure you don’t want to have dinner with me tonight? I’m an awful cook, so we’ll order something.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I should, um, study. The semester ends soon.”

“Mind if I come by this week to say hi? Don’t want your brother mad at me.”

My shoulders droop.No one is ever going to trust me, are they?I understand the irony of wanting their trust while planning to do something that proves why they shouldn't trust me, but I wonder if others believed in me more, would I be able to handle the urges better?

“Sure,” I tell Frank with a forced smile. “That’s fine. See you later.”

I wave goodbye and walk off.

Clenching my jaw, I stroll along the street toward Jackie's. Only a few more days of this crap. Soon, I'll have the chance to forget—to escape—all of this. One glorious night of freedom.

I pull my phone from my pocket to text Ashley. We’ve been messaging more lately, and she found a great party for us on Friday. Frank and Jackie—my babysitters—will be out of town until Sunday, making it the perfect time.

Before I can message Ashley, though, a text from Miguel pops up.

Butterflies fill my stomach, so I send soldiers in to stab them with spears. I shouldn’t feel all gooey from seeing his name, and I shouldn’twantto hear from him. If he’s trying to apologize, waiting two weeks is too long.

I’m conflicted, so I walk into Jackie’s house, nod hello to her, and then go to my room before checking the message. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I tap the notification.

Miguel:Hey. I’m sorry about Rico’s party. I know that sounds lame, but I’ve been in agony over it and doing a lot of thinking about what you said. I don’t have answers, but I NEVER wanted to hurt you like that. If you can’t ever forgive me, I understand. I regret how I acted and how I wasn't upfront with you. I’m sorry my actions caused you pain. It haunts my soul and I regret it with all my heart.

I also wanted to tell you that Brody called and asked me to check on you while they’re out of town. I’m not hiding things again, so I wanted you to know. I won’t come by, though, even if Brody pounds me for it. I wasn’t respecting you before, but no more mistakes like that. I respect you. You said you don’t like people babysitting you, and I hear you. You have my trust. And you probably don’t want to see me, huh? But I’m always here, so don't hesitate to call if something comes up. I’ll send you my address too, if you ever need a place to chill. That’s it. I’m sorry.

I press my phone against my stomach, feeling weepy, which isdefinitelymy default emotion now.

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