Page 62 of False Start
There’s a rideshare driver less than four minutes away, so I don’t stick around inside. I put a trashcan next to Bobby and a bottle of water in front of him before I leave.
Then, I text Ryan.
CHECK IN ON BOBBY TODAY.
The textnever goes through as delivered, though. He’s blocked my number. I’m struggling to feel much of anything about it. I’m still nodding in and out during theride, and though it’s only a few minutes, it lasts ages. I’m pretty sure I went to high school with the driver, and he keeps trying to make small talk, even though I specifically requested a quiet ride.
The truth is, even if I wasn’t high, I probably wouldn’t remember him. I purposefully rejected most of that time out of my head, too fucked up from the damage caused by being theone thing is not like the othersin a town of less than twenty thousand people. My parents were fresh off the plane with barely any English under them to survive, my mother pregnant with expectations for a child who would never live up to them.
I ruined a lot of acid trips by letting my mind take me to that place where I watched myself from my mother’s point of view.
I wish I’d enjoyed the drugs back then. I never ended up making her proud anyway.
“Hey. You’re here.”The driver sounds annoyed.
It’s probably not the first time he’s tried to get my attention.
I thank him with a slurred mumble and roll my way out of the back. I’m pretty sure I tip him far more than necessary, but it’s payment to deal with me. The inclined driveway up to the door feels excessively steep today, and by the time I’m there, I just want to sit and rest.
The door opens instead, and I fall inside, catching myself with the side of my cast to keep from hitting my head on the ground.
Look at that—Icanfeel pain.
And it’s a splintering shock up my arm.
“Where the fuck have you been, Nia?” Kade’s voice is so angry that I’m hesitant to look up, and when I do, it’s worse than I expected. The look on their face is worry and disappointment and… rage. “Are you high?”
“N-no.” I squint, using the back of my hand to shade over my eyes as I look up at them.
“I haven’t seen you in days. I’ve been calling you since Sunday morning. You’ve missed practice, you missed your interview for the job at the school.” The scowl on Kade’s face is terrifying, and I’ve never regretted letting someone down so much. “And you’re fuckinghigh, Nia?”
K drops their head into their hands and takes deep breaths.
I’m so nauseous, I think opening my mouth would make me spew, so I just wait. And it’s a lifetime. Kade slowly removes their hands; their eyes are almost lifeless, and I fight the urge to look away when they speak.
“You have two minutes to get all of your shit and get out of my house.”
My blood runs cold.
“Kade.” I’m not sure they can even hear me.
“I love you, Nia. I love yousofucking much. You get me, and IthoughtI got you. I told you I had one rule. I can’t do this. I’m not going to watch you lose yourself the way I lost my sister.”
My heart breaks into a million pieces; I can’t ask them for more.
I somehow muster the strength to make my way into the house, the tears falling freely down my face with no hope of stopping. I’m not too unpacked, so it doesn’t take me long to gather all my things and throw them back intothe bags, but every item feels heavy, massive with the weight of my guilt, dense with the force of my mistakes.
It takes longer than two minutes, but Kade doesn’t make an issue of it. I give Tolkien one final scratch under the chin, using the top of his head to dry my tears before I walk out of the house. I don’t dare look in their direction, but I feel their grip around my arm, pulling me back in.
“You wouldn’t rather justtry?” they ask, but I can’t answer.
They wouldn’t like it. “Just let me go, Kade.” I pull away, but their grip is stronger.
“No! I will not be the villain in your story. I’m your fuckingfriend, Nia.”
I know they’re right, but I shake them off one final time, and they let me go.
“No, you’re not the villain.I am.” Not daring to look back in their direction, I just keep going. I walk until I’m certain I’m no longer in view. I walk a block, and then another.
