Who Can Really Blame You?

Dan hands me a note, which I read aloud.

“You’re going home?” Talia asks him, “You should sleep over!”

I live four blocks away. Dan writes to me.

“He lives nearby. Let the boy sleep in his own bed,” I tell her. She huffs, but hugs him goodbye anyways. We all say bye to him, and he waves before leaving.

“I’m going to sleep,” Hadley says, yawning. I glance at the time.

“Is Dan okay to walk home at midnight?” I ask.

“He’s Dan,” Tayler shrugs, “He was raised in the hood.”

Hadley rolls her eyes and goes into the spare room.

“He wasn’t raised in the hood,” I snort. Tayler glares at me.

“Fine, if I’m so stupid, I’m going to sleep too!” he huffs and runs into the bedroom with Hadley. She screams.

“You scared me!” She yells at him.

“What do you think he did?” Carter asks Talia, who shrugs and goes to inspect the situation.

“You tired?” I ask Carter, who shakes his head, “Me neither.”

“What do you wanna do?” he asks me.

“Hang out?” I ask. He shrugs and lies down on the couch, his head next to my knees.

“Let’s find a movie on TV,” he says, “Hopefully that dinosaur movie is on.”

“I’m tired,” Carter yawns, his head in my lap. I look away from the TV, where cartoon dinosaurs are speaking English, and look at Carter, whose eyes are closed.

“Me too,” I say, but I don’t move. Suddenly he rolls off the couch and falls onto the floor. I stare at him. “Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he says smiling, pushing himself up, and standing, “Just waking myself up so I can go get into your comfy bed.”

I roll my eyes and let him pull me up. Times like these make me sigh. It’s just that stuff like that makes me realize how much I like him, and how close he is, but how it won’t ever be anything. I stare at my feet as we head to my room. I open the door, flip in the switch and head to the closet. I hear Carter dive onto the bed. I kneel next to my closet and look through the clothes I haven’t put away yet. I throw him a pair of pants to change into, and go back looking for a pair for me. I don’t hear him moving, so I stop what I’m doing and turn to him. Carter’s sitting on the bed, staring at me and holding the pants I just threw him in his hands.

“What?” I ask, feeling my face turn pink from his gaze. He doesn’t answer right away, which makes me uneasy.

“Are you over me yet?” Carter asks after a minute of us looking at each other. I turn red, and turn back to what I was just doing, but I’m not really looking anymore. I just want him to drop it. “Ainsley?” he asks me.

“I’m trying, okay?” I say dejectedly, staring at the wall ahead of me, and dropping the clothes that were in my hand onto the floor. Carter moves after a minute and kneels next to me. He touches my hand. “Don’t,” I say. He pulls his hand back.

“Why not?” he asks me. I look at my knees.

“It hurts,” I say quietly. He sighs, and tries to touch my hand again. “Stop!” I exclaim, scrambling away from him, and standing shakily by my bed. “This isn’t fair,” I say, covering my face.

“Ains,” he says pleadingly.

“No,” I mutter, “Just… just go to bed. I have to… I have to do something.”

I rush out of the room, slide on my shoes and grab my keys.

I don’t know where I’m going, but it just hurts too much to be here. Maybe if I stay in motion, then it won’t hit me. Maybe I won’t feel what’s happening.

I don’t realize where I’m going until I get there. I enter the hospital, and tell the receptionist my dad’s name.

“Visiting hours are over,” she says matter of factly.

“I… I realize that,” I say, “But his liver’s failing and I know how fast that can go down. Don’t make me miss the last hours of his life, please.”

She tells me how to get there, and tells me to tell anyone that asks that I didn’t talk to her. I nod, and head off.

“Hey dad,” I say, entering his room. He’s awake, and his eyes are yellow, like his skin.

“Ainsley,” he says, surprised. I sit next to him, take his hand, and rest my forehead on both of our hands.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“I’m fine,” he says, “They’re looking for a donor for me right now.”

“That’s good,” I say, but tears come anyways.

“What’s the matter?” he asks, patting my arm.

“This has been the worst two weeks of my life,” I admit. My dad sighs.

“Not all because of me, right?” he asks.

“No,” I say, “Not all because of you.”

“What’s happened?” he asks me.

“I miss you,” I answer instead.

“Ainsley,” he says, reminding me of him when I was little and he wasn’t a drunk, and he honestly cared. I feel my heart sink sadly. “Tell me what’s happened,” he orders me.

“I really like someone dad,” I start, after a moment of silence, “It hurts.”

“I know,” he sighs, and squeezes my hand.

“Max and I had made up, and then he just went and hurt me again,” I say, “And I just missed you.”

“You saw me three days ago,” he reminds me. I sit up.

“That wasn’t you,” I tell him, “This is you. You care again.”

My dad falls silent.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts. I stop him.

“No,” I say, “I’m not mad. Don’t be sorry.”

“You know what, Ainsley?” My dad asks after a long silence.

“What?” I ask him, looking up.

“That boy’s an idiot for not caring about you. You’re the best kid I’ve ever raised,” my dad says, leaning further back into his pillows.

“I’m the only kid you’ve ever raised,” I remind him.

“And I’m damn proud of that,” he mutters, closing his eyes, “I got it right the first time.”

I sneak back into my apartment, the sun just coming up, and I’m surprised to see everyone sitting on the couch, quiet, but awake.

“Hey guys,” I say, avoiding Carter’s eyes, and rubbing the back of my neck.

“Where the hell have you been?” Talia asks me, obviously pissed. Everyone looks a bit pissed.

“Visiting my dad,” I reply slowly. Everyone’s faces soften.

“Why’d you leave?” Tayler asks me. I don’t answer; just mutter something about using the bathroom. I lock the door and lay down in the tub. I just don’t want this to be happening.

He probably hates me, even if he does like guys. He never signed up for anything with me, except maybe an occasional friendly conversation. He’s probably grossed out. He slept in the same bed with someone who likes him. I can picture it now. He’s going to give me that awkward “I just want to be your friend” speech, the one that I’m terrified of being on the receiving end of, but only because I’ve given it twice now. I know what those speeches mean, because I’m so pro at them. He may want to be my friend, like I did with Max, but the conversation makes it awkward. The speech is doomed from the start. It happened to Max and me. It happens to everyone that gives or receives the speech. I don’t think I could be happy without being Carter’s friend.

I only realize that everyone was knocking when Tayler’s picked the lock and everyone’s come in, blocking my escape. I only realize that I’ve been crying when Hadley falls onto her knees next to me and hugs me to her.

“What’s happening with you, baby?” she asks me, as I clutch at her shoulders.

What is happening? Am I really crying this hard over Carter?

No, I realize. I’m crying because my dad might die. I’m crying because I keep imagining Carter treating me like Max did. I keep crying because things were finally looking up and nothing really changed. Everything’s the same, but only in the worst ways.

Someone climbs into the tub with me, now that my legs have found their way under me, and they put their arms around me and Hadley. It’s Talia, and I can tell because it smells like Talia.

One of her arms leaves my shoulders, and a surprised sound comes from Tayler, and is followed a moment later by his arms going around us all.

“Carter,” Talia says, but no more arms come. “Carter,” she says again, in a different tone, apparently picking up her head to look at him.

“He doesn’t want me to,” Carter says quietly, and I squeeze my eyes closed tighter as I hear the door close quietly.

When we all pull away, Carter’s gone.

I tell everyone that I’m going to sleep, and that I’ll see them later. No one argues.