Page 94 of Sweet Chaos
I took a deep drag, feeling the rush of the nicotine hit my bloodstream, and said nothing. We were no longer a couple and I didn’t want to act like one.No more lighting her cigarette, you stupid fuck.
“Remember your seventeenth birthday? We got drunk on my dad’s whiskey and high on your weed and rode down to the beach on your bike. I was on your handlebars and you rode with one hand on the handlebar, your arm wrapped around me, so I wouldn’t fall off. And I remember thinking, I’d go to hell and back with this boy.”
She took a drag of her cigarette, her eyes on the ocean, her blonde hair lifted in the soft breeze while she tripped down memory lane, my least favorite place to visit. “It was late at night and the moon was out and we were floating in the ocean. And you sang Pearl Jam’s “Black.” It was so sad and angry and beautiful. Like you.”
I sucked on my cigarette, needing it to calm my nerves. I remembered that night so well. My mother had forgotten our birthday. Completely forgot about it. No cards, no gifts, no Happy Birthday, not a fucking mention of it. I remembered Sienna that night too. I remembered thinking that a girl like her would never end up with a thug like me. And I’d been right.
But now, instead of feeling like shit about it, I was grateful. Because I’d found something so much better. And I was already feeling antsy, wishing we could fast forward to the end of this conversation, so I could get the hell out of here. I’d even watchRiverdale, that’s how fucking desperate I was for this to end.
“Where did we go wrong, Dylan?”
I wanted to laugh at that question. Nothing about us had ever been right. “We don’t have that kind of time, princess.” I took a swig of my beer and a drag of my cigarette. Whose idea was this, to bring beer and cigarettes like we were two old friends sitting around shooting the shit?
“Did you ever love me?”
I took another swig of beer, thinking about her question. It was cocked and loaded, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the bullet exploded in my face. “There was a time I would have done anything for you. Anything you asked, I would have fucking done it. But you never…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn’t want to go down this road. I didn’t want to be on this beach with her, reliving old wounds and bitter words and all the shit that went down in our eight-year on-again, off-again disaster of a relationship.
“I never what?” she prompted, her voice so sad that I couldn’t even look at her because I knew what I’d see.
“You never believed in me,” I said, my voice low, with a bitterness that surprised me. You would have thought I’d be over it by now. “You never had one single ounce of faith in me. You were so fucking scared of being poor. Of living like I did. You were always half in and half out. And every time your father gave you an ultimatum, every single fucking time he threatened that you’d lose your trust fund or whatever the hell he was using to keep you in line… you dumped my ass and ran scared. You made promises you never kept. Over and over again. Different day, same old shit. You wanna talk? Really talk? You had a fucking abortion and never even told me.”
Yeah, that’s right. Let’s talk. That shut her up.
“Dylan…” Her voice quavered. My jaw clenched, and I took deep breaths through my nose. She was turning on the waterworks again. This was what she did.
“You wanted to talk. Fucking talk. Or we’ll go. Stop wasting my time. Stop fucking dragging me through all this shit all over again. You called me an asshole more times than I can count. But you made me fucking crazy, Sienna.”
“I did it for you,” she said quietly.
“For me?” I laughed harshly. “Didn’t you fucking know me at all? I would have done anything it took to take care of you and the baby.”
“I know that,” she said, her voice raised. “And that’s why I did it for you. God, Dylan. You were barely getting by. You were selling drugs and fighting to pay the rent and the bills for you and Remy because your piece of shit mother was never around. What was I supposed to do? Saddle you with more responsibility? It was my fault. I fucked up the birth control. I missed a few days and I should have told you, but I didn’t. I was so scared you’d do something crazy like drop out of school. And you were so smart. I couldn’t do that to you. Don’t you see? I did it for you.”
I swallowed hard, hearing the honesty in her voice, and I knew she was telling the truth. Yet all these years, she’d kept that to herself. And I realized it was because we never really talked. Not about the important shit. We just got mad and yelled at each other. Walked out in the middle of conversations.
“We were so young and so stupid, Dylan,” she said, brushing away her tears and taking a shaky breath. “We were so bad at love. But I loved you. So much. And I tried. I tried so hard to be the girl you needed but I didn’t know how. I was scared. You’re right. But it wasn’t money I was worried about. It was us. I was scared that I’d give up everything for you and then you’d leave me and where would I be?”
“Why did you think I would leave you?”
She shook her head. “Because I knew that you never loved me the way I loved you. Your mom did such a number on your head. You never even believed me when I told you I loved you. And I told you all the time. But you always threw it back in my face. You could never say the words in return. And it hurt. The more you held back, the harder I tried to be what you wanted. But the more I tried, the more I failed. It was like this vicious cycle and we kept going round and round and ending up back where we started. But I kept coming back for more. Because when it was good, nobody had ever made me feel the way you did. You were my drug. My crack. My addiction. And I’m so scared that I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you.” Her voice cracked on the words, and I didn’t know what to say or do.
I had never been scared of her leaving me. I always knew she’d come back. I was the one who finally ended things. If it had been left up to her, we’d still be doing the same old tired song and dance.
“Dylan,” she said softly.
“Yeah?” I answered as I ground out my cigarette in the sand.
“Can you… can you just hold me? I know we’re over but… please. Just one more time.”
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was Sienna in my arms. “Sienna, I don’t think . . .”
She ignored my words and moved closer, wrapping her arms around me. She buried her face in the crook of my neck, and placed her hand over my heart, and it was so wrong, but I was telling myself that it was okay. This girl was a part of my past, and we were awash with memories, nothing more. And maybe, like she’d said, I owed her this. Earlier, she had said she needed closure. And that’s what this was. Time to close the book on the past and move on.
The first time I ever saw Sienna, we were sixteen. It was the first day of our junior year in high school and I walked into my fourth period English class. The only desk available was in the back row, right behind Sienna.
I ignored her for most of that school year. Had immediately pegged her as the queen bee. Rich, spoiled, beautiful, smart. On her better days, she was funny and generous. She was also insecure and worried about every bite of food she put into her mouth. Her beach waves looked natural and carefree, but I knew it took her forty-five minutes, a shitload of styling products and three appliances to achieve. Same with her outfits. She used to spend a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to wear. Sienna pretended that people’s opinion of her didn’t matter but it wasn’t true. Sienna used to dress for me. Chose silky lingerie with me in mind.
“I’m so worried about losing you that sometimes I forget who I am without you.”
