Page 73 of The Lies We Tell Ourselves

“You’re a shell of who you were, sweetie.” Ava sighed as she sat on my bed and pulled back the blankets covering my face. “It hurts to see you like this and not be able to help you,” she added and wiped away the tears trickling down her face. I’d shut my emotions off the second I’d walked through my door that day, but now they hit me with the force of a Category 5 hurricane.

A whimper ripped its way out of me as tears stung my eyes. I pushed myself up, pulled Dillon’s hoodie on, and lifted the hood to cover my face as the tears started to fall. “It was him. Everything…w-was…b-because of him.” I pulled my knees up and hugged them to me and tipped my head back against the headboard as I exhaled a pained breath. “I thought…he s-said that… he loved…I loved him.”

The bed dipped on both sides of me. My tears turned into a raging torrent as my heart broke all over again. Small arms wrapped around my back, while larger ones—Mal’s—wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me into him. My sobs turned to gut-wrenching cries as I let out everything I’d tried to bury that had been eating away at me for the last six weeks. The memories that haunted me when I closed my eyes. I don’t know how long they held me in a cocoon of their arms, but I was grateful they did.

After what seemed like hours, my cries abated. My aching eyes pulsed and my throat was sore. Their faces were wet with tears of their own and made me feel like the worst friend in the world. Ava pushed the hood off my head and combed her fingers through the tangled mess. “Will you tell us what happened, Jamie?” I gasped as a fresh wave of pain pummeled me and licked my salty lips.

“Yes,” I rasped. “But, can I have a shower first? I’m sure you think I stink.”

“There’s no think about it, JJ. You reek,” Mal said with a chuckle. “Are you hungry? We can order something while you shower and get some clean clothes on.”

“And we’ll change your bed too,” Ava said softly. “Then we will help you anyway we can, okay?”

My gaze ping-ponged between their earnest eyes. I tried my best to smile for them, but it came out more like a grimace. “I don’t want to be a burden,” I whispered.

“You’re not, JJ. We’re your friends, and you’re hurting.”

“And we help pick up our friends when they’re down, right Mal?”

He nodded. “Exactly. Now off you go, and we’ll get this mess cleaned up and maybe open a window too.” He pinched his nose with his fingers, and I stuck my tongue out at him, making him laugh. The first proper one I’d heard in weeks.

“Get moving, stinker!” Ava shooed me from my bed before heading over to my closet to get some sweatpants and a sparkly tee that Mal and I got when we went shopping. God, that seemed like years ago now.

“How does pizza sound?” Mal said, eyes trained on me as I shuffled to the bathroom.

“Sure. Pepperoni supreme and garlic breadsticks with ranch on the side?”

“As if we’d forget your favorite, angel.”

“Thanks.” My lips curled up as I stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I already felt drained physically and emotionally. I didn’t know how I’d get through explaining to them everything that had happened—there was so much I’d kept from them. What would they think of me? Telling them about my dad and Uncle Daire was one thing; they at least had some distance from that. But they barely knew anything about me and Dillon, except that I had a crush on him and we’d spent the night together on his birthday.

Hot water pummeled my shoulders, working out the knots and washing the stink off my skin. I closed my eyes and braced against the cool tiled wall, letting the steam work its magic and help clear my blocked nose. By the time I’d cleaned up, dried off, and was getting dressed, Ava knocked on the door to tell me our pizza had arrived and to hurry my tushy up before she ate mine. My stomach revolted at the idea of food, but I’d force some down if it made them happy. I’d done enough to hurt them recently.

“Wow! Who do we have here then?” Mal said around the slice in his mouth as I walked out the bathroom in a cloud of steam. “You look like someone we haven’t seen in a while.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and crawled back onto my bed between them. “Mmm, this smells amazing.” And to my surprise, my stomach growled, making Ava snicker and choke on her soda.

“Jesus. Warn a girl before you let that monster out.” A beat of silence followed before we all burst out laughing. Pizza and drinks passed in the blink of an eye, and it kinda felt like old times, almost like the last couple of months hadn’t happened. But I could feel it blanketing the room, no matter how much my best friends did to lighten the mood. I knew they were concerned about me. It was written alI over their faces and in their not-so-subtle side glances. I was waiting for Mal to start pushing seeing a therapist again; it was only a matter of time.

I knew it was because he cared, but it made me feel inadequate, like a burden. Someone who couldn’t look after themselves.They once saw me as a ray of sunshine, but now I was hidden behind the storm clouds. I was homesick. Not for a place, but for the person I’m not sure exists anymore.

“Now,” Ava said as she dusted her hands off and stacked the empty boxes on the trash can. “We want the truth, angel. What’s going on?” Always cutting straight to the root of the problem, she had a knack for getting to the heart of the issue without making you feel like crap.

“I’d really rather not,” I muttered, playing with one of my curls and refusing to meet her eyes that I could feel boring in to me.

“Well, tough shit, sweet cheeks. This is a friendervention.”

“I think you mean interfriendsion, Ava?” Mal said.

“Nope! No, no, no. It’s an intervention.” Ava threw her hands up in the air, then snapped her fingers at me. “Whatever! You’re talking. Now.”

I looked at Mal for support, but he just smiled with resignation, a total contrast to Ava’s take no shit attitude. I was really doing this. They left me no other option, and I didn’t want to keep hurting them with my silence. They didn’t deserve to be treated this way, so I hastily stitched half my broken pieces together and faced it head on.

“It was him.” Just saying the words was a blow I didn’t know I could survive, but I needed to allow myself to feel it to remind me why I couldn’t just ignore what he’d done. “Everything that’s been done to me since the opening party, why I’ve been targeted by students, and… and…”

“I thought things were like, you know, good?” She shrugged.

“Me too, Aves.” I yanked on my curls as frustration washed over me. I can’t believe I’d been naive enough to think things would pick up between us where they left off five years ago. That we’d still be the same people, and that he’d still be the boy I loved. But time was a cruel mistress. It had morphed him into someone I didn’t recognize, yet was callous enough to fill my mind with memories of fleeting glances, lingering touches, and stolen moments.

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