I lean back against the wall, “You’re making a huge mistake. Leave with me.”
Madison looks conflicted for just a second like she wants to come with me but the corner of her lip raises. She steps past me and into the room with Jay without another word.
I bang the back of my head against the wall. “Fuck!” I yell. She shouldn’t be in there. I shouldn’t have let her go. I know what’s happening behind those doors. He’s gonna get her high, and then have his way with her then leave her there naked and exposed for anyone else who wants their chance with her. She’s gonna let him too because that’s what Madison does. It makes my stomach turn and I bet if Cash really knew, it would completely break him to know what she does and what guys do to his girl. If I were Cash, I wouldn’t be okay with this. There is no excuse, none. Even if the tables were turned and it was Macy, I wouldn’t let her self-destruct. Not like this.
I bang the back of my head again before storming out of the party and back to my empty room with my full bottle of whiskey.
When I arrive back at my dorm I slam the door shut and lock it, locking the world out. I can’t fucking take anything else. Trudging over to my bed, I sit down and run my hands through my hair. I can’t get the mental images of Madison and Jay together out of my mind. It’s fucked up. She’s fucked up. He’s fucked up. I’m fucked up.
Why can’t she just see how bad he is?
I pull open my desk drawer and pull out the bottle of whiskey I have hidden in there. Something drops to the floor but I don’t care right now. I need that burn. I need the numbness. Unscrewing the top, I take a pull directly from the bottle.
I put the bottle on the floor and reach behind me to pull my shirt off. It’s cool in here, the cinder block walls not offering much warmth but the whiskey does the trick. I toss my shirt on the floor and pick up the picture that fell out.
It’s Macy and me in Cannon Beach lying in the hammock where we spent most of our time when we were there. Just the two of us together. Macy’s face is slightly pink from spending the days playing around in the water. She has a hand placed on my cheek staring intently into my eyes.
I swallow hard trying to breathe in deep, easing the pain but nothing helps. My eyes burn like a motherfucker and I rub at them with the back of my hand.
“Fuck.” I reach down and take another swig, it does nothing but burn so I keep it up until the burn is suppressed and I feel numb.
I hold the picture so hard in my hand it starts to shake. Where did that girl go, the one who could never wipe the smile off her face? The one with the dreams bigger than life itself? The one with the master plan? That’s right. I fucked that all up. I killed our best friend. I ruined her dreams, wiped the smile off her face in a single moment, a night that hangs over our very existence three years later. I’ve ruined my dreams and the dreams of our friends. The fucked up thing is I continue to do it. I tried to stop. I laugh at myself. Who the fuck am I kidding? I didn’t try to stop, I don’t even want to. It’s the only way for me.
I have to get high and drunk to cope with this shell of a life I’ve created to keep the fucking voices and sounds quiet. It’s my survival. Macy doesn’t need or deserve that. She’s got too much going for her.
Time passes as I sit here and stare at the picture. Sometime later there is a knock on my door. I climb off the bed and go to open it. I know who it is even before opening the door. It’s Macy, she’s checking on me like she always does when I’m pissed the way I was at the party. She’s making sure I’m not still stuck in my own head with my thoughts. She wants to make sure I’m not going to do anything to harm myself, well, more than I already do.