Your Inaccessible Light

That Friday, I go to the mall with Amber so she can take me to what is, according to her, Nevada’s best ice cream parlour. I’m excited but a little bit apprehensive. I still haven’t gotten used to socialising again. I have no reason to be nervous; I’m not exactly shy after all. I think it’s just because I’ve secluded myself for so long, the concept of going out with people all the time feels foreign. Since the late September evenings are getting chilly, I am dressed in red skinny jeans, a white top and hooded leather jacket. As we walk into the crowded restaurant and take a seat in a booth towards the back, I browse through the menu.

“Chocolate cookie dough is the best,” she informs me.

“They used to do the nicest cookie dough in Florida.”

“Trust me, it can’t be as good as this.”

“I’ll have to decide that for myself,” I grin as the waiter comes over and quickly takes our orders.

“So do you like it here?” Amber asks me, “In Nevada I mean?”

“Yeah,” I say honestly, “I wasn’t sure at first but I think I prefer it to living in Florida. The people here are really nice.” That’s not a lie. Sure, life is far from perfect but here I can at least start to move forward. I don’t hide away in my room all day like I did in Florida. I definitely go to school a lot more than I used to. I don’t have to deal with people feeling sorry for me all the time. I know people were only being nice, but it drove me insane when everyone kept saying ‘Sorry for your loss.’ What’s sorry going to do? Sorry isn’t going to bring my brother back. Sorry isn’t going to change the fact I lost the one person that meant something to me.

“That’s good. You really surprised me, you know?”

“Why’s that?” I ask.

“You’re not like other people. Most people automatically fall into the clique that’s most suited to them and then they avoid everyone else who is not part of that clique. Even I’m guilty of doing that; I rarely speak to people outside of our friendship group. But you seem to get on with everybody. Obviously, Harlee and the guys love you. You talk to pretty much everyone. Apparently even Ronnie Radke can’t stay away from you. You don’t change who you are depending on who you’re with; like you never try to be someone else. You’re just you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Definitely. It’s really good that you never judge people.”

“I just don’t see the point in treating someone differently based on their social status.”

“Me either, but I’ll admit I judge people based on their reputation. I know I shouldn’t but take Ronnie for example, I heard he’s bad news so I stayed away. You’re possibly the first girl that’s got close to him in a non-sexual way, and suddenly there’s this whole new side of him. I never thought I’d say this but I’m kind of excited for watching them play tomorrow.”

“Me too,” I agree, “But seriously, you make me sound like some kind of saint.”

“Maybe you are,” she smirks. I can’t deny it’s nice being thought of that way, but I’m ninety nine per cent sure I wouldn’t be as accepting of Ronnie if it wasn’t for Austin. If it wasn’t for Austin, I would probably just stereotype Ronnie as an intimidating waste-of-space troublemaker and avoid him just the same as most people in this school do. For the first time, I see that something almost good has come from Austin’s death. I feel a pang of guilt as soon as I speak those words, but maybe they are true. Would I ever have given Ronnie a chance if it wasn’t for my half-brother? Would I see past all the drugs and the alcohol to a lonely and hurting boy wanting nothing more than to be understood? Or would I be just as ignorant and judgemental as everyone else?

Later that evening, Amber and I are back at my house watching movies. My father is still at work and my mother is asleep upstairs. I’m glad, because I don’t want Amber, or any of my friends for that matter, seeing the miserable and depressing pair that is my parents. About an hour after the sun has set, there is a knock at the door. I rack my brains for who it could possibly be turning up at this time. Amber’s parents aren’t collecting her for another half an hour so it can’t be them. Curiously, I unbolt the door and open it to reveal an intoxicated Ronnie.

“Hey doll,” he chuckles to himself, his eyes bloodshot.

“What do you want?” I ask as I involuntarily tense up, noting the half empty liquor bottle in his hand. I don’t want this right now. I can’t do this. Especially not when Amber is sitting on the couch just a few feet away, her eyes wide in surprise.

“I wanted to see you,” Ronnie smirks, cupping my face with his hand and leaning in towards me. His face is so close to mine I can smell the alcohol on his breath. I pull away from his grasp because he’s making me feel uncomfortable.

“You need to leave,” I tell Ronnie, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What? Are you busy or something?” he slurs, peering over my shoulder and into the house. His eyes fall on Amber and he chuckles to himself again. Amber smiles nervously. I wonder if she’s as scared as I am right now, or if she just finds it a bit odd?

“You need to go home Ronnie,” I tell him again, more firmly this time.

“I have nowhere to go,” he cries, raising his voice slightly.

“Keep it down,” I order, “My mum is asleep.”

“My dad’s being an ass and won’t let me in the house.”

“Is it any wonder in the state you’re in? Why don’t you stay at Max’s?”

“I’ve just been there but he’s being a dick.”

“How exactly?”

“We were having some beer right,” he slurs, “And some liquor. And then we had…we had a line each…just one. And he wouldn’t let me have anymore. He won’t fucking let me have anymore. Well fuck him cos look what I’ve got here.” He pulls a small bag of white powder out of his pocket and waves it in front of my face. Without thinking, I snatch the bag from his hand, taking him by surprise. He follows me into the house. I know this can’t end well.