Page 101 of Dirty Roulette
Ihaven’t done much, other than rotting in bed and leaving an impression of my fetal position. All I want to do is sleep, but I can’t. My brain blew a fuse, and it forgot how sleep works. I’ve stared at the fan whirring above me for hours. The tick from a loose screw fills the stale air, and the hanging rod rocks side to side like it might rip off the ceiling at any second.
Mum encouraged me to go back to the dorms and wait it out. I waited thirty minutes before I showed up at her doorstep again. I can’t regurgitate the past and formulate words about what happened to Ryder, or relive the events at the concert, and the guys groping me. It’s a night terror and I can’t wake up.
Charlie is dead silent and off the radar too. She’s given me the cold shoulder before, but I don’t even get the notification that she read my messages. When I call it goes straight to voicemail. It’s a proven fact that she can’t block anyone for more than twenty-four hours but it's been five days since the concert. I really screwed up.
Ryder, the only remaining solace I thought I had left, was hauled off in handcuffs. There are no shoulders for me to lean on. I’ve spun around the idea that Charlie is dead. I’ve plotted out Ryder going to prison and a brick wall separating us. The only way to talk to each other would be through a corded phone, separated by a glass window, for fifteen minutes once a month.
I’ve sobbed, hurting from losing both of them. I lost count of how many times I wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my hoodie but it’s been enough times my skin burns and bunches around the rims of my eyes. I’m convinced my tears have given me a rash.
Scrolling through my social media makes it worse. The number of messages in red keeps getting bigger. Every hour there are twenty more. There are over a hundred friend requests from random dudes. The calls, the text messages. I can’t handle it anymore. I turned off my phone, and at this point, I need to change my number and get the hell out of dodge.
After my brain runs a marathon of emotions, Idofinally sleep. When I wake up, I'm already tired and ready for bed again. Mourning doves sing their songs by the window. When I go to the bathroom, I’m faced with meeting my reflection in the mirror. I look pale, like a corpse shoved in a morgue freezer. It takes me two seconds to fall to my knees and throw up in the toilet bowl. The fun yellow bile swimming in my stomach comes up in globs.
The past three days have been like this. I go through the same process and brush my teeth, scraping my tongue clean from the sour taste. I’m lightheaded, my brain throbbing as I use the wall to support my weight as I trudge out of the bathroom. Mum and Rey have already left for work, leaving the trailer to be still and quiet.
My feet creak down the hallway to the small kitchen. When I open the fridge, my stomach churns even more while I stare at a gallon ofmilk, butter, eggs, and a case of beer. I forgot this part of living here. Mum doesn’t buy a lot of food so I’d eat at Charlie’s. At this rate, if I don’t try to eat I’m going to shrivel up into dust particles. I let the door close and the fridge seals shut with a soft click.
The screen door rattles as fists bang on the door. I’m jump-scared to look at a shadow moving around the patio. “Payton!” They cup their eyes glancing through the windows shielded by blinds. It’s Ryder. I’m quick to unlock the door and the screen flings open.
“They let you go?” I ask.
Ryder stumbles over his feet, coming in. His hair is disheveled, he hasn’t shaved with the patchiness along his jawline. Bloodshot eyes meet mine, and I think I’m staring right into my reflection.
“Why won’t you answer your phone? I tried calling you.”
I smell the Hennessy on him. It’s seeping off his skin, and I don’t even think he realizes he’s over here with how glazed over his eyes are. It’s ten in the morning and he’s wasted.
“How much did you drink?”
“Why are you ignoring my calls?” He grasps my shoulders with firm hands, shaking me as if it will get the answer out of me.
“I’m not going to talk to you like this.”
“Where is Charlie? You always know where she is.”
“I don’t know where she is.” I shake my head and a hard pulse rockets in my chest. I can almost taste my bloody heart in the back of my throat.
“I trusted... I trusted you. I could have stopped him...” He releases me and runs his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. He hitches a sob and his back meets the wall as he runs a hand down his wet face. “I don’t even know how to tell my mom, I don’t know where my sister is.”
“You haven’t heard from her either?”
“No one has! If you two didn’t steal my Jeep or that damn vodka, none of this would have happened!”
“So you came over here to tell me it's my fault. Everything is my fault! I wish you’d get it! I wish you’d understand why I didn’t want to tell her anything!”
“Get what? Tell me!”
“I never dated anyone in high school because I wanted to be with you. I thought after prom I had a chance but you came home with Brittni, and it fucked me up. I didn’t want anyone but you, and then I saw what dating did to Charlie. I watched her get burned, and now I can’t be with the one person that I fell in love with. I would have never stood a chance with you if Roulette didn’t happen. How do you think I am supposed to feel, how was I gonna tell her how I felt about you without it backfiring? But you proved to me everything Charlie warned me of. I’ll never be happy with you!”
“So I’m the one who hurt you?” Ryder runs a hand over his mouth. “Don’t sit here and tell me you’re in love with me. You left, you walked out on me and told me you didn’t think we should see each other anymore.”
I’m right there with him, sobbing so hard I can’t even manage to swallow the large lump lodged in my throat. I might as well vomit all over myself because bile is swimming again, and I’m surprised it hasn’t burned a hole right through my stomach.
“Shut up!” I scream harder than the damn metalheads I blast through my speakers.
“No! I’ve loved you for fucking years! I’ve done nothing but protect you two. I’m the one scaring the assholes off because I know what they want. I’ve been dragging you two out of parties, I’m the one who intervened with Roulette. I got my ass beat to help you. I sat in a jail cellfor two nights because again you two keep making stupid-ass choices. Don’t sit here and tell me you love me.”
I stalk up to him and ram my palms against his chest as relentlessly as I can. “Shut the hell up!” I punch and bang on his chest, using all my weight, but he doesn’t budge. “Leave! Get the hell out!”
