Despair

Watch Me.

f**k me.

"You two did such a good job! I can't wait to see what you come up with for the presentation," the teacher said, and then I knew I was stuck with him— again. And not just stuck next to each other during class because she felt like pairing us, but now we have to get together for this since it's a lot of work.

"Do you... want to come home on Monday, after class?" Ian asks, tidily shoving the books into his backpack like it matters. "Or I could go to yours?"

"You can't come to my place," I state, shutting my locker. And it's not even because I don't want him there—which I don't—but we won't get anything done with all the screaming anyway.

"Oh, okay," he says, nodding. "Do you remember my address?"

"No." Do I? No. I mean...I remember what the door looks like, but that's it. I must have been like ten years old the last time I was there, if it's even the same house. "Text it to me, I guess."

"Yup! Have a good day." Smile. Always smiling. How does he still... do that.

"I'll try."

(18:22) yo

(18:56) bro

(19:15) dude

(19:42) DUDE

You have 2 missed calls from Jack

(19:45) f**k I fell asleep

(19:46) what? what's up?

(19:48) all good 

 (19:48) you coming?

Oh, yeah— it's Friday. Ethan, Jack, Dylan, and I play stuff on Fridays. Sometimes it's Mortal Kombat or L.A Noir, sometimes it's... Risk or Monopoly— we just like games. Monopoly gets way more heated than MK, anyway.

(19:52) yeah on my way

(19:57) ??

I roll off my bed to leave my room so I can splash some cold water on my face. I should have really gotten better sleep for this, but at least I napped. Maybe I won't leave yet, though. I can already hear my mom and Chloe from here.

I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace.

"He doesn't do anything, and I get yelled at?"

"It's always the principle of the least effort with you. Should he have done it? Yes."

Shit— the trash. I forgot.

"But you knew that he hadn't, so why couldn't you, so I don't have to come home and do it myself? You can always deal with him later."

"This is so... stupid and unfair!"

"Hey! Watch your tone, young lady."

Fuck it— I have to leave at some point. I slowly slip out of my room, trying not to be noticed, my backpack's already on as I cross the hallway and lock the bathroom door behind me.

"Where is he going?!" Chloe demands, and I already know what's coming next.

"Here we go again, Jesus. He meets his friends tonight."

"Are you kidding me?! He gets to go?"

Fuck's sake. I fling the door back open and: "I'm not a kid anymore, dude!"

"Exactly! God, how do you not realize what you're doing?! It's all because he's a boy."

"Don't be ridiculous, that has nothing to do with anything."

"Yes, it does!"

"No, Chloe! It's because he's younger, okay? You're the one that's supposed to be helping me, it'll be his turn in time."

"No! You were the exact same way with Dad— he didn't do anything, either."

"Stop bringing your father into this."

"I will when you stop defending him, too. Oliver's one thing, but—"

"I'm not, Chloe!"

Okay, I have to call bullshit, even for her.

"She's right," I spit out, walking back into the living room. Chloe's so confused. "You can't defend him."

"I'm not, I don't know why you two keep saying that," Mom insists, Chloe rolls her eyes and she's right again— we're just so tired of this s**t.

"Yes, you are. You always do. And he f*****g left, Mom," I snarl. How come she didn't get it yet? "He's not coming back, okay? He never was."

She just stares at me in some kind of taken aback disbelief, but I stare right back. I'm right. She knows I'm right.

"And it's been six goddamn years, okay? Six. So he's either... dead, alright? Or doesn't give a single f**k, but those are all the options."

"And I hope he's dead," Chloe mutters. I look at her and I can't... I can't argue with that. 

It'd hurt less.

"That's it. You two, go to your rooms and none of you are going anywhere tonight," she hisses, and Chloe starts screaming again, but I don't even bother this time. Before I can stop myself I've flipped her off, and before she can even react, my free hand's twisting the doorknob.

"Watch me."

In Your Eyes by The Weeknd.

By the time I get to Jack's house, I can see that everybody's already there— I'm late. But Jack's a really good guy and tells me that he made them wait.

"You want a beer?"

"Sure, thanks," I reply, digging into my pocket to turn off my phone since it won't stop ringing. "Do you think I can stay over tonight?"

Jack frowns, handing over the bottle. Yeah, it's been a while since I've asked, huh? "Uh, sure. I mean, I have to ask my dad but he'll probably say yes."

I nod, Jack's parents are so chill and loaded— he's lucky, too. "Thanks."

"Sure," he says with a squeeze of my shoulder. We walk over to the playroom and I start to feel my stress washing out a bit as I take off my backpack and sip from my beer when— No. What? Nah, it can't be him— it's not. It's gotta be some other bug-eyed little—

Oh, what the f**k.

"Oh, hi!"

But— but how. Why?!