Page 85 of Random Encounter

Thirty

Adrienne

Maybe I was destined to live in guest rooms for the rest of my life.

The thought was more bleak than I wanted to feel. Or maybe I just didn’t want to feel right now. Not anything. Because some of the thoughts in my head were dark and some were cruel and hope was there too, though it was so very hard to grasp and it seemed like the last thing I should be focusing on.

I sat on the bed in the guest room in Graham’s house—technically I supposed it was Cole’s house, but they both lived here with Luna, so that was all semantics.

And was I really having a mental conversation with myself over house ownership?

It was better than the alternative—putting words to my more insistent and pervasive thoughts.

I was propped up by and surrounded by more pillows than a Bed, Bath, & Beyond, so I could make myself comfortable however I needed. I had pain pills for the shoulder. The thought of taking those was a little terrifying, because if they blanked my mind I might like it too much and if they didn’t…

I didn’t want to sleep with intense, drug-induced dreams.

Luna knocked on the open door frame, and came in without waiting for an answer. She sat at the other end of the bed. “How are you doing?” She radiated concern and sympathy.

Which made a tight lump grow in my throat. “I don’t know.”

She pulled her legs under her and crossed them. “Okay.”

I didn’t like the silence that sank in, sitting heavy in my joints. Pressing against my lungs. It was like being alone, but now someone was watching me mentally fracture like a late-in-life Picasso. “You didn’t bring your cards. I thought you might offer to read for me or something.”

“No,” Luna said plainly.

“Why not?”

“It’s not what you need right now.”

A bitter laugh slipped past my lips. “How do you know that? I don’t know what I need right now.”

“Just a feeling.” Her tone was kind and free of judgement.

What was I supposed to say?

Silence stretched on. Why was Luna still here? Not that I minded her company, but this wasn’t company—it was as confusing as everything else. What was I supposed to think? To feel? Was one of us supposed to say something?

“I’m just tired of it all.” My own words caught off-guard, coming from nowhere but feeling right. “I’m tired of people who think they deserve anything their whims demand. Of people who think only they matter. Who don’t stop to consider the consequences of their actions… or don’t care.”

I paused, surprised at my own words—not that I blurted them out without thinking, but that I was able to put any form to my feelings, even if it was a vague blob of a form. I waited for Luna to reply. To argue or add her thoughts. Anything.

She looked up, understanding in her gaze. “I get that.”

“I believed all the rules when I was growing up.” Apparently I wasn’t done. “Sometimes I feel like I was wrong to do so. Like everyone else knew they were more like loose guidelines that could be ignored unless someone needed to be kept down.”

“Which rules?” Luna asked.

“Do unto others,” I recited. “If you work hard, that’s how you get ahead. That life rewards the industrious. That if things go wrong in your life—if you fail, if someone else does better than you, if the world beats you down and kicks you in the gut until you can’t breathe and you don’t know how you’re going to make it to tomorrow, that it’s your own fault.” I drew in a deep breath, to make sure I still could. I didn’t feel as bleak as that sounded, but there were times in the past where I had.

“Maybe it is my fault.” The words flew out more from habit than because they tasted real. “Some things are, but not everything. I’m not perfect. I blurt out inappropriate things. I let opportunity pass me by because I’m scared. But I’m trying to. To do right by me. To not harm others along the way. And not because I should, but because I want to. I want the people around me to feel good, and I don’t want to feel shitty either. I never want to be responsible for someone else’s suffering. I don’t want to miss out on experiences. I want to experience the world, and I don’t mind hard work. What I mind are people who think they can grind the rest of us under the heel of their boot because in their mind no one is more important than them.

“People lie and cheat and steal and run their ex-wives off the road and assault women they’ve dated and think it’s their right because they want to and as long as they smile at the right people and believe their own bullshit, they so frequently get away with it. And the people they hurt, the people who let it happen because they think it’s their fault or because they don’t see it or because they think if they’re just a little nicer…”

I forced myself to stop, before I lost anymore track of my own words, and focused on Luna. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I agree.”

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