Rachel Dyken - Toxic

“Well…” Kiersten cleared her throat loudly then kicked me under the table. “It was great seeing you!”

“You too.” Raylynn looked at me one last time then, shoulders slumping, walked off.

“You ass!” Kiersten kicked my shin again. “And yo? Did you say yo? No one as white as you should ever say that word. Ever. I don’t care if you get kidnapped and the only way to be free is to either say yo or gnaw your own arm off. Gnaw the arm, Gabe. Don’t say…yo.”

“Who said yo?” a male voice interrupted.

“Ah, Wolf.” I teased, happy that I wasn’t alone anymore with Kiersten’s peering eyes and difficult questions.

“Turtle,” he fired back.

“Gabe said yo.”

“Out loud?” Wes all but shouted. “Is he trying to get jumped?”

I groaned into my hands and waited for them to stop talking about me like I wasn’t there.

It was a regular occurrence with them. Kiersten would say something like I’m worried about Gabe, then Wes would say, Is he not eating? and I’d raise my hand and say, He’s just fine, he ate a burrito a half hour ago.

“Guys!” I snapped, and dropped my hands to the table. “I’m fine, everything is fine. I said yo, I’m gangster, deal with it.”

They both stared at me as if I’d just announced I was going to be a monk.

“I heard something this morning.” Wes reached for Kiersten’s coffee and took a long sip then leaned back against the chair. If I wasn’t his best friend I’d effing hate him. He was the ideal All American Football Star. Quarterback, dark blond hair, blue eyes, buff, easy going. Yup, I’d freaking hate him.

“Oh yeah?” My eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Gossip Girl, what did you hear?” I took a long sip of coffee.

“Dry spell.”

I spit out the coffee onto the table and all but choked to death. Damn Lisa, damn family, damn cousin. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Right.” Wes licked his lips but dropped it. He leaned over and kissed Kiersten on the top of her head, then pulled her silky scarf tighter around her body.

That simple motion — almost made me lose it.

The tightening of a scarf — made me want to end my own life. If people only knew — if only I could trust people enough to tell, to explain, how wrecked I was on the inside.

But no. I was playing a part. I was Gabe. I would never be him again, I would never be my past again.

Kiersten laughed and kissed Wes’s nose.

It was too much. Everything was suddenly too much, and in that moment I knew. It was too much four years ago — my time was up. The storm cloud was coming. “Look guys, I gotta run.”

“Alright.” Kiersten barely took her eyes off Wes. “See you for Taco Tuesday?”

“Yup.” I didn’t turn around. I didn’t wave. I grabbed my shit, and I ran out that door like the fires of hell were licking at my heels.

Because for the first time in four years — the time bomb was about to go off and I wasn’t so sure how I was going to handle everything.

My phone went off with a text.

Puget Sound N: She needs you. Can you call and sing? Or maybe send her a picture text?

Oh look, the bomb… it was ticking.

Me: Yeah. I’ll call in a few.

People will go through their entire lives justifying every damn decision…they’ll fight for all the wrong things, until finally the right thing stares at them square in the face. That’s when the choices start to matter. Because in the end, you’re a creature of habit. So you may want to choose right, but choose wrong in the end — because you’re so damn used to it. It’s tragic, then again, life’s tragic, don’t you think? —Wes M.

Gabe

“The dry spell’s really getting to you, isn’t it?” Lisa felt my forehead.

I smacked her hand away and rolled my eyes.

“You can’t call it a dry spell when it’s by choice,” I grumbled. “And by the way, thanks for telling Wes.” I’d run out of the Starbucks and headed directly to Lisa’s dorm room in hopes of talking to her about everything. Instead, she’d answered the door, her sweet smile conveying without words that she would always be there for me and she’d always understand.

Except this time — I had refused to burden her.

I looked at her now, several days after making that decision, and realized that had been our entire relationship. I give you my pain, you give me yours. And I was sick of it. I hated that she was part of it, and I hated that for the first time in four years I’d finally decided to grow a pair of balls and leave her the hell out of it — she didn’t deserve the darkness.

I, however, did.

“And cranky.” She plopped down onto the couch and messed up my hair with her hands. “You need to get out more.”

“Question.” I put the TV on mute and pushed her away. “Weren’t you telling me a few weeks ago that I was going either going to die alone or from too many STDs?”

Lisa’s blue eyes twinkled in amusement as she snatched the remote and turned the volume back up “Don’t be dramatic. I said you were going to die alone with STD’s.” She flipped her dark wavy hair over her shoulder and laughed.

“Right. Big difference, awesome encouragement. Cousin of the year.” I groaned and leaned back against the couch. I was just getting comfortable when a pillow hit me in the face.

Swearing a blue streak, I jumped to my feet.

Wes held out the pillow and tilted his head. “Rough morning? Where’d you go anyways?”

“Dude.” I croaked and just shook my head. Not him, not again. I was cracking.

The door to the dorm opened, revealing a tuckered out Kiersten. She was sweating like crazy, so I could only assume Wes made her workout with him after our morning study session. Swear, they did everything together, practically lived together since they’d gotten engaged. I didn’t mind — correction I didn’t mind that much, but the PDA was getting a little tiring. Case in point — today at the coffee shop I probably escaped right before he swallowed her whole.

“You look like someone just died,” Kiersten joked coming up alongside Wes and leaning against him.

Damn. Perfect-looking couple. They’d have beautiful kids. Wow, I’ve completely lost my shit. Was I really thinking about them procreating? And getting emotional about it? Oh look, there’s something in my eye. A freaking tear. Hell, I needed to get out.

“Hah.” My eyes narrowed. “Still too soon.”

“Damn, no death jokes?” Wes laughed and pulled a sweaty Kiersten into his arms, attacking her mouth with such force that I, Gabe Hyde, slut of the year, felt like blushing.

“Guys, not here by the food.” I pointed to the fruit on the table. “It’s weird.”

“Making out next to bananas?” Wes pulled away from Kiersten. “Really, man? Coming from you? Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

The room fell silent. Great. Perfect. I shrugged and forced a smile. “Oh, you know, my demented cousin claims it’s a dry spell.”

“Right.” Wes snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot about that fun little piece of information.”

“For the last time!” I all but yelled. “It’s not a dry spell if it’s by choice!” I rarely yelled. Everyone stared at me like I’d just lost my shit. I was a lover not a fighter. The slutty flirt that slept with anything it could. The guy who could charm the pants off a federal judge. Yelling? Anger? Yeah… I bit my lower lip and scowled at the floor. Tick-tock, tick-tock. I really was losing it.

“Right.” Wes’s eyes narrowed. “Hey, uh, Gabe, I need help with something. Can you come with me to my room real quick?”

“Sure,” I said slowly, my eyes darting between him and Kiersten. She pretended to be totally oblivious to the tension between me and Wes.

“See ya, at dinner, Wes.” She kissed his cheek and skipped into her room slamming the door behind her.

“Use protection.” Lisa called after Wes and me once we reached the door.

“Hilarious!” I yelled above her laughter.

We walked in silence to Wes’s room. Why did I suddenly feel like I was about to get a dad lecture? I was sweating. What the hell!

The elevator was silent as it made its way to the sixth floor. You could hear a pin drop. I followed Wes down the hall and finally into his room.

Even though he’d gone through cancer treatments at the beginning of last year, they still allowed him to stay as Freshman RA, so at least I knew we wouldn’t have roommates barging in on us while he laid into me about raising my voice around girls.

Once we were inside, he shut the door, locked it, and threw one of his footballs at my face.

“Why?” I ducked. He threw another one. I barely caught it before it smashed into my nose. “What the hell, Wes!”

“Finally!” He all but shouted. “A reaction. You’re like a freaking zombie. What gives? And don’t lie. Kiersten said you were acting weird this morning too.”

I yawned, attempting to look bored, even though my palms were sweating something fierce. “Nothing, man, just school stuff.”

“School stuff?” Wes repeated. “You really wanna go with that excuse?”

“Drugs?” I offered.

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

“Wes—”

“What?” He took a seat by his desk and crossed his arms. “What’s going on?”

I didn’t spill my guts. I knew I owed him everything — hell, I felt like he practically saved my life when he almost died, he made me feel like living again. His strength was like gravity, pulling everyone within a fifty-mile radius into its center. You couldn’t help but want to be better when you were around him, and that was the problem.

“I’m aging man, and we both know cancer can come back at any time.”

“Seriously!” I threw the football back at his face. “This is what I’m talking about!”

“What?” He caught the football and twirled it in the air. “Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

I groaned into my hands, “You’re so damn perfect. It really is irritating as hell.”

“Thanks.” He flashed a smile.

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

I groaned again.

“Gabe—”

I reached into my pocket — the locket was cold against my fingertips. “Have you ever messed up so bad that—”

“That what?”

I averted my gaze. “I just… you’re my best friend, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like you never do anything terrible. You’re smarter than most therapists, you have tons of money, you’re like a freaking god around this place… Oh right, and a walking miracle. Check all those off the list. I know life hasn’t been easy for you, but you don’t mess up, you roll with the punches and move on. I just wish I knew how to do that.”

Wes laughed out loud. “Wow, a little freaked out that your opinion of me is that high. Do I really need to make a list of all the times I’ve screwed up in life?”

“It would help,” I grumbled, crossing my arms.

A few seconds of utter and complete silence went by. I didn’t mind though. Wes and I were like that. We didn’t always have to be talking or arguing or laughing. Sometimes silence was what I needed most and he knew that about me. He knew more than anyone — even Lisa. And I had a sneaking suspicion he knew every damn part I played was an act.

“What’s really going on?”

“The weight.” I cursed. “It’s wrapped around my legs, pulling me deeper into the darkest depths of the ocean and for once, I want to let it.”

“Why?”

My head snapped up. Wes’s eyes didn’t hold judgment, just concern. “Because I deserve to sink.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, you don’t get it.” I got up and started pacing. “You know how you always felt like nobody understood? Remember when you said you’d drink shitty coffee the rest of your life if you could just live? Remember all those talks about people just walking through life without a damn clue about your pain? Your journey?”

Wes nodded.

I started to sweat. I gripped the locket harder until it had to be making an imprint onto my fingertips. “How does a person deserve life?”

“Trick question,” Wes answered softly. “We don’t.”

My phone simultaneously buzzed and sounded in my pocket, interrupting our talk. It was my mom’s ringtone — she’d called at least five times in the last hour. I knew I should probably talk to her, but it just brought up too many bad memories. And, I was officially late for class.

I stabbed at the ignore button and grimaced at Wes. “Listen, I gotta go. Can we talk later?”