I walked into my room to find Jamie sitting on the bed, as though she'd been waiting for me to return all this time. I was struck with a horrible bout of guilt, knowing she had nobody else, but still lingering among that guilt, was the desperation to hide away from this aspect of my life.
After being around Jamie for so many years, I often forgot that she was just a little girl. She had always been my friend and the age she had achieved in life never mattered. But now, I saw that little girl, with her beaded pigtails and missing front tooth, as she grinned from ear to ear. The look on her face and the way she jumped up from the bed to greet me ... It made me feel like she'd chosen me as not her friend but her adopted parent. And when had I ever agreed to take on that responsibility?
“I can't hang out, Jamie,” I muttered, as I headed for the closet door.
She followed, rotating her arms, telling me to tell her what I've been up to.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Just hanging out with Vinnie. I, uh, I moved in with him.”
She furrowed her brow with curiosity and pointed at her chest.
“No,” I said firmly, opening the door to pull out some clothes to bring to the apartment. “We’re not coming here to live with you. We have our own place.”
She frowned, her eyes filling with disappointment and rejection, but I couldn't let myself care. I was living my own life now, one free of ghosts, and I couldn't let her in without giving them all a free pass.
“I'm sorry.”
Ghosts couldn't produce tears, but like a newborn baby, they could display the emotion. They could cry, albeit soundlessly, and at that moment, Jamie's bottom lip began to quiver.
I tried to ignore her as best as I could, pulling clothes out of the closet to decide what to keep and what to get rid of. I kept my eyes down and my mind busy as best as I could, but she was always there. Always pouting and always staring. Driving the guilt home, like a stake through my heart.
“Jamie, stop.”
She dropped facedown onto the bed, shielding her head with her arms. But I didn't need to see her face to know she was crying and hurt.
“Knock it off,” I growled from between gritted teeth. “Stop it.”
I hated myself as I scolded and tried to get rid of her, my constant friend. But this was all a part of life, wasn't it? You move on, and your friends do, too. Sometimes you catch up at the local Starbucks, chatting while your kids argue over cookies, and then, you don't see each other again for another year—sometimes never. But you still have something in common with those friends: you all embrace and respect the changes in your lives.
Not Jamie, though.
I took a deep, controlled breath to collect my resolve, and said, “You need to leave me alone now.”
Jamie lifted her head, revealing the heartbreak in her eyes.
I shook my head, fighting off the annoying prick of emotion. “I don't know what to do for you anymore, Jamie. I can't help you. Just ... just leave.”
But no matter what I said or did, Jamie was here for a reason, and because I could never figure out what that reason was, she was stuck. She was here forever it seemed. But even so, I didn't have to deal with it. I had options now. And in a rush of determination, I dropped down at my desk and fished the snow-filled baggie from my pocket.
Jamie peered over my shoulder, innocent curiosity on her face, as I dug through my desk drawer to find an old compact disc and Blockbuster Video membership card. I couldn't stand to look at her, as I poured the coke from the bag and cut a couple of lines. She didn't know what I was doing, there was no way she could, but I did. I knew I was wiping the slate clean and making her disappear, and my heart snapped with every tap and push of the plastic card.
“I'm sorry, Jamie,” I said, as I took my position. “I really fucking am. I just ... I just can't do this anymore. I'm sorry.”
It went so fast, it always did. But, as much as I liked Vincent, he was never my best friend. I hadn't grown up with him. We hadn't binged movies and danced around to