Who Can Really Blame You?
Thirty one
“So you like him?” Talia asks me. I flop down onto the couch and sigh before answering.
“I don’t know,” I say into my phone.
“Be honest,” she orders me.
“I am being honest. I think he’s nice and all, but… it’s just bad timing you know?” I question, looking at my fingers as I move them around.
“It’s only bad because you’re letting it be,” she says. I stop my fingers and look to the wall opposite of me.
“Yeah, I know,” I say and take a pause before continuing. “I’m going to take a shower, so I’ll talk to you in a bit, Tal.”
“Fine,” she says, obviously kind of annoyed, “Everyone misses you. We really want to chill sometime, you know, like everyone.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I say for what feels like the millionth time this phone conversation.
“Don’t be,” she says, “I love you, go eat something.”
“I am eating, and I love you too,” I say, “Bye.”
I sigh.
When I get out of the shower, I nearly scream. Talia smirks up at me from the couch, where she’s laying with Hadley and Tayler.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, pulling the towel around my hips tighter..
“We came to hang out with you,” Hadley says, eying me. I shift my weight.
“Oh,” I say, “Okay… I need—Let me get dressed.”
I hurry into my room, and pull on some clothes quickly before I reappear in the living room.
“So, come sit with us,” Talia says, patting the spot next to her. I walk over to them unsurely. I have a weird feeling about this gathering.
“Hi, Ainsley,” Tayler says as I sit in between him and Talia.
“Hi,” I say, “What’s going on?”
Hadley sighs.
“We’re worried,” Talia says bluntly, “We want you to see someone. Your aunt is going to pay, and she’s all for this. She’s really, really worried about you.”
I groan.
“Why are you worried about me?” I ask tiredly. I am tired.
“You’re not eating,” Talia says first.
“I am too,” I say.
“You’re obviously not sleeping,” Hadley says gingerly. I don’t reply.
“You’re not talking to us,” Tayler adds in. I don’t look at any of them.
“We don’t want you to kill yourself or something,” Talia says sadly.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Why are you always sorry, but you never do anything?” Tayler asks me.
I don’t reply because I don’t know.
“We just want you to talk to this guy,” Hadley says, “He’s really good. He’s a grief counselor. He can help. Not just with your dad, but with Carter too.”
I tune out the rest of it out. Why did they have to bring up Carter, as if he has anything to do with me anymore. I finally cut her off angrily when I stand up and turn on them.
“Why do you guys assume whenever I have a problem it’s because me and Carter didn’t work out?” I shoot out, “I’m fine. I’m over it. I’m not a fucking child.”
“You’re acting like one,” Talia says angrily. Hadley puts a hand on her arm.
“Oh right, I’m immature, little miss “The world is my jungle gym”! I have a right to act how I please in my own home!” I exclaim.
Talia glares at me.
“We’re just trying to help—” Hadley tries to cut in.
“Well stop because it’s annoying and all it’s proving is that you guys don’t know me at all! I’ve always been like this, and you guys think because I grew a few inches that I lost some crazy amount of weight or something. Maybe if you noticed anything about me instead of yourselves then you’d realize that I am eating and that I can’t sleep because my mattress has a broken spring in it.” I rant.
They fall silent, until Talia stands and motions for her brother and Hadley to follow.
“You’re delusional,” she spits, “Don’t call me the bad friend here.”
She leaves the room, Tayler following a moment later. Hadley hesitates and looks at me.
“We’re worried,” she says sadly, and leaves the apartment through the kitchen after the twins.
After a few hours Mitchell texts me, asking if we can hang out as friends (of course). I agree and he promises to bring over a DVD for us to watch. I’ve just finished changing my clothes when I hear him knocking. I go to answer, and smile widely when he comes in, greeting me. I feel my heart sink when he holds up a liquor store bag, but I don’t have the heart to admit to this guy that my whole life has been fucked up by alcohol, so I just smile weakly and show him around my apartment. Mitchell goes back into the kitchen, and calls out to ask if I want a drink.
“Uh, sure,” I say hesitantly, and force myself to smile when he brings me a glass of something that tastes bitter and smells like the couch did at home. I ignore it and take a drink, before getting up to put in the DVD.
“So,” he says. I smile over my shoulder at him as I put the DVD in and lean back on my heels to stand. I sit down next to him, and grab the remote to go to the menu of the movie.
“So what?” I ask him, sitting back as the movie begins. It’s obviously a horror movie. I try not to pay attention to that either.
“So are you going to tell me why you would have liked me more four or five months ago?” he asks, “Which, by the way, tells me that you do kind of like me.”
I sigh and roll my eyes.
“I just really liked my friend Carter and things didn’t work out, and I’m kind of hung up on him,” I admit.
“That’s all?” he asks. I nod. “That happened to me in 9th grade and then I got a boyfriend like 6 months later and I got over it. It’ll pass.”
“Clever mentioning of getting a boyfriend,” I tease him, “And thanks.”
He nods, and we both turn back to the movie, with me taking another drink from my glass.
I hide my face in my hands as the murderer goes after the main character. Mitchell laughs at me a little bit.
“Oh, shut up,” I beg. He throws an arm around me comfortingly. I suddenly feel very safe, and then it hits me. I do like him enough, and I shouldn’t let Carter hold me back like this, and if Mitchell asks me, I’ll say yes. I need to get over Carter, and this may be the only way to do it.
Mitchell does shut up about my fear of stupid movies finally, but I’m still very happy to see the end credits of the movie. We don’t move from the couch.
“So,” he says again, quieter. I look up from his shoulder to him. I smile.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“I had fun,” he says.
“Me too,” I reply, patting his hand. He takes a grip on my fingers and doesn’t let go. I don’t really try to stop him.
“Just promise to rethink it?” he asks hopefully.
“Yeah,” I agree easily. He smiles, and stands up.
“Well then, I’ll be off,” he says, bowing dorkily, and heading to the door. “You can keep the liquor,” he adds in.
I nod and wave as he leaves. Then I go pour the bottle down the drain.
“So, you’re going to date him then?” Nick asks me.
“I don’t know,” I groan, flopping down onto the floor next to him.
“Do you like him?”
“Duh, yes.”
“Then date him, unless you’re just using him to get over Carter. Then I have to say that it’s a bad idea.”
I watch my fingers fiddle around in my lap.
“I don’t know,” I say softly, “I just don’t want to hold myself back from a nice guy just because of him.”
Nick nods, and puts down the CDs he was just about to shelf.
“How old is he?” Nick asks after a moment’s pause.
“Uh, I think 18. Definitely not over 19,” I say.
“You’re only 16,” he reminds me.
“Age matters?” I ask, standing up, “I just wanted your opinion. Yes or no?”
“Go for it, if you want to,” he shrugs. I nod after a long moment and turn back to the counters. “But,” he calls out, “Don’t drink just because you don’t want to explain your dad. It’s not you.”
I nod, and head back behind the counter to ring up a girl with 13 facial piercings.
“I don’t know,” I say into my phone.
“Be honest,” she orders me.
“I am being honest. I think he’s nice and all, but… it’s just bad timing you know?” I question, looking at my fingers as I move them around.
“It’s only bad because you’re letting it be,” she says. I stop my fingers and look to the wall opposite of me.
“Yeah, I know,” I say and take a pause before continuing. “I’m going to take a shower, so I’ll talk to you in a bit, Tal.”
“Fine,” she says, obviously kind of annoyed, “Everyone misses you. We really want to chill sometime, you know, like everyone.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I say for what feels like the millionth time this phone conversation.
“Don’t be,” she says, “I love you, go eat something.”
“I am eating, and I love you too,” I say, “Bye.”
I sigh.
When I get out of the shower, I nearly scream. Talia smirks up at me from the couch, where she’s laying with Hadley and Tayler.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, pulling the towel around my hips tighter..
“We came to hang out with you,” Hadley says, eying me. I shift my weight.
“Oh,” I say, “Okay… I need—Let me get dressed.”
I hurry into my room, and pull on some clothes quickly before I reappear in the living room.
“So, come sit with us,” Talia says, patting the spot next to her. I walk over to them unsurely. I have a weird feeling about this gathering.
“Hi, Ainsley,” Tayler says as I sit in between him and Talia.
“Hi,” I say, “What’s going on?”
Hadley sighs.
“We’re worried,” Talia says bluntly, “We want you to see someone. Your aunt is going to pay, and she’s all for this. She’s really, really worried about you.”
I groan.
“Why are you worried about me?” I ask tiredly. I am tired.
“You’re not eating,” Talia says first.
“I am too,” I say.
“You’re obviously not sleeping,” Hadley says gingerly. I don’t reply.
“You’re not talking to us,” Tayler adds in. I don’t look at any of them.
“We don’t want you to kill yourself or something,” Talia says sadly.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Why are you always sorry, but you never do anything?” Tayler asks me.
I don’t reply because I don’t know.
“We just want you to talk to this guy,” Hadley says, “He’s really good. He’s a grief counselor. He can help. Not just with your dad, but with Carter too.”
I tune out the rest of it out. Why did they have to bring up Carter, as if he has anything to do with me anymore. I finally cut her off angrily when I stand up and turn on them.
“Why do you guys assume whenever I have a problem it’s because me and Carter didn’t work out?” I shoot out, “I’m fine. I’m over it. I’m not a fucking child.”
“You’re acting like one,” Talia says angrily. Hadley puts a hand on her arm.
“Oh right, I’m immature, little miss “The world is my jungle gym”! I have a right to act how I please in my own home!” I exclaim.
Talia glares at me.
“We’re just trying to help—” Hadley tries to cut in.
“Well stop because it’s annoying and all it’s proving is that you guys don’t know me at all! I’ve always been like this, and you guys think because I grew a few inches that I lost some crazy amount of weight or something. Maybe if you noticed anything about me instead of yourselves then you’d realize that I am eating and that I can’t sleep because my mattress has a broken spring in it.” I rant.
They fall silent, until Talia stands and motions for her brother and Hadley to follow.
“You’re delusional,” she spits, “Don’t call me the bad friend here.”
She leaves the room, Tayler following a moment later. Hadley hesitates and looks at me.
“We’re worried,” she says sadly, and leaves the apartment through the kitchen after the twins.
After a few hours Mitchell texts me, asking if we can hang out as friends (of course). I agree and he promises to bring over a DVD for us to watch. I’ve just finished changing my clothes when I hear him knocking. I go to answer, and smile widely when he comes in, greeting me. I feel my heart sink when he holds up a liquor store bag, but I don’t have the heart to admit to this guy that my whole life has been fucked up by alcohol, so I just smile weakly and show him around my apartment. Mitchell goes back into the kitchen, and calls out to ask if I want a drink.
“Uh, sure,” I say hesitantly, and force myself to smile when he brings me a glass of something that tastes bitter and smells like the couch did at home. I ignore it and take a drink, before getting up to put in the DVD.
“So,” he says. I smile over my shoulder at him as I put the DVD in and lean back on my heels to stand. I sit down next to him, and grab the remote to go to the menu of the movie.
“So what?” I ask him, sitting back as the movie begins. It’s obviously a horror movie. I try not to pay attention to that either.
“So are you going to tell me why you would have liked me more four or five months ago?” he asks, “Which, by the way, tells me that you do kind of like me.”
I sigh and roll my eyes.
“I just really liked my friend Carter and things didn’t work out, and I’m kind of hung up on him,” I admit.
“That’s all?” he asks. I nod. “That happened to me in 9th grade and then I got a boyfriend like 6 months later and I got over it. It’ll pass.”
“Clever mentioning of getting a boyfriend,” I tease him, “And thanks.”
He nods, and we both turn back to the movie, with me taking another drink from my glass.
I hide my face in my hands as the murderer goes after the main character. Mitchell laughs at me a little bit.
“Oh, shut up,” I beg. He throws an arm around me comfortingly. I suddenly feel very safe, and then it hits me. I do like him enough, and I shouldn’t let Carter hold me back like this, and if Mitchell asks me, I’ll say yes. I need to get over Carter, and this may be the only way to do it.
Mitchell does shut up about my fear of stupid movies finally, but I’m still very happy to see the end credits of the movie. We don’t move from the couch.
“So,” he says again, quieter. I look up from his shoulder to him. I smile.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“I had fun,” he says.
“Me too,” I reply, patting his hand. He takes a grip on my fingers and doesn’t let go. I don’t really try to stop him.
“Just promise to rethink it?” he asks hopefully.
“Yeah,” I agree easily. He smiles, and stands up.
“Well then, I’ll be off,” he says, bowing dorkily, and heading to the door. “You can keep the liquor,” he adds in.
I nod and wave as he leaves. Then I go pour the bottle down the drain.
“So, you’re going to date him then?” Nick asks me.
“I don’t know,” I groan, flopping down onto the floor next to him.
“Do you like him?”
“Duh, yes.”
“Then date him, unless you’re just using him to get over Carter. Then I have to say that it’s a bad idea.”
I watch my fingers fiddle around in my lap.
“I don’t know,” I say softly, “I just don’t want to hold myself back from a nice guy just because of him.”
Nick nods, and puts down the CDs he was just about to shelf.
“How old is he?” Nick asks after a moment’s pause.
“Uh, I think 18. Definitely not over 19,” I say.
“You’re only 16,” he reminds me.
“Age matters?” I ask, standing up, “I just wanted your opinion. Yes or no?”
“Go for it, if you want to,” he shrugs. I nod after a long moment and turn back to the counters. “But,” he calls out, “Don’t drink just because you don’t want to explain your dad. It’s not you.”
I nod, and head back behind the counter to ring up a girl with 13 facial piercings.