Page 80 of Perfectly Us
“I’m sorry about your friend,” Alex says, caressing my bicep as we lay in my bed, the sheet hanging low on his naked hips. The moon shines through the open blinds, bathing his tanned skin in a soft silver glow.
Dad was only joking when he said I couldn’t close the door when Alex came over. After dinner, we hung out with Dad for a while and watched TV with him; then we came upstairs once Jesse showed up, and the two of them went on the back patio.
I told Alex about Trey.
He kissed me after I said I was okay, my voice shaking. Because he knew I was lying. I wasn’t okay. I was hurting. And he saw it. A kiss turned to more, and then we fell back on my bed, hands sliding under shirts and mouths softly meeting. The sex was more tender than usual. Slower. No rush to the finish line. The intimacy of it scared me.
The way I feel about Alex is beyond comprehension.
“Trey was the first one who talked to me when I got to the camp,” I say, tracing the rays of moonlight on his chest. “He greeted me with a huge smile and said we were all chosen to save the world, like we were the Avengers or something. It took away some of my nerves. He did that with everyone, making sure we were all okay. I didn’t talk to him as much as I should’ve after we left.”
“Don’t do that to yourself.” Alex kisses my shoulder, hand sliding across my bare stomach. “I know it’s easy to blame yourself. Hell, I’m the poster boy for it. But it’s not your fault.”
“I know.”
Idoknow it’s not my fault. I can’t help but look over at that drawer again, one cast in shadow in the dark room. The guilt in my chest, wrapped around my heart like barbed wire, has nothing to do with Trey. Not really. I’m upset about his death, but more than anything, I think I’m afraid.
“Will you stay the night with me?” I ask.
Alex snuggles closer. “You couldn’t make me leave even if you tried. I’m your stalker, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I kiss his forehead and settle against the pillow, closing my eyes.
I dream of the street.
Rain falls heavy on the concrete, and thunder rumbles, sounding like it’s on all sides of me as I run. I look up at the gray sky just as lightning flashes. My feet carry me forward, shoes pounding on the hard ground.
And then I stop.
So does the rain.
I stand still, facing what looks like the end of the street up ahead. It’s not the end though. It will keep going on forever if I let it. Denial does that. Keeps us charging ahead full swing, blocking out the truth. Running from it.
“When you did it… did you want to die?”
Alex’s question from so long ago fills my head, echoes all around me. Stuck on a haunting loop. I have the urge to take off running again, to leave this dark place in my mind. I don’t want to face it. I don’t want to go back there.
But I have to. There’s no escaping it anymore. It’s the only way to truly move forward. Slowly, hesitantly, I turn around.
In the middle of the street is a folded piece of paper.
My chin trembles as I approach it. I try to wake myself up as panic bubbles inside my chest. Panic so intense that it feels like my insides turn to molten lava, like fire is spreading through every inch of me. Or maybe it’s beestings I feel, a thousand tiny pricks all over my body.
I fall to my knees in front of the folded page. A breeze sweeps in, flipping the top flap open.
Dad,
I’m so sorry. I just can’t do—
I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to read anymore. I don’t need to read it though. I know exactly what it says.
A suicide letter. One my dad never found. He rushed to my side when he found me bleeding out and didn’t have time to see anything else.
As I look at the letter, the memory of Dad’s screams fill my head. God, I’ll never forget them for as long as I live.
“Shiloh? Shiloh! Oh my god. No, no, no. Hey, buddy, look at me. Open your eyes. Don’t leave me, kiddo.”
I wake up with a sharp cry, tears pooling from my eyes. Alex stirs beside me and sits up.
