Page 94 of Severance

“We haven’t talked about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think it’s that important.” My voice pitches and I start to lose it.

“Yes, it is. What if he’s some Satan worshipper?”

A strained laugh escapes my mouth. “I assure you he’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Dad, please.” I draw a deep breath. “He treats me really well and he doesn’t mind meeting you, but you need to understand that I like him and I’m going to keep seeing him, regardless of whether you like him or not. You need to accept that fact and let me figure it out for myself.”

My mother is silent.

My father rubs his forehead and says, “Fine, but we’re not discussing any move until I meet him.”

25. After

I’ve been questioning my decision-making ability a great deal lately.

Dark places with lots of people are a trigger. They freak me out. Why I thought going to the charity event Blaze and Jess organized was smart, I have no idea. I’m a sweaty mess, looking over my shoulder every two seconds to make sure no one who comes through the main entrance is carrying any firearms. There are several security guards circling the venue and a few more outside, but it doesn’t make me feel any safer. The crowd’s growing by the minute, and what was supposed to be an intimate gathering is now turning into the main downtown event of the weekend.

The small table for two I’ve been ushered to is surrounded by yelling people, and I have no idea who Jess paired me up to sit with, but they’re not here yet. My phone is charcoal-hot in my palm because I’m still waiting to hear back from Mikah. The last message I sent him last night is still unread, which is typical and not something I normally get upset about. At least not anymore. I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance ever since he stood me up and didn’t bother to offer an explanation. Although today feels different because it’s his last day in Portland, and even though I want to see him before he leaves for Seattle, my pride won’t let me mention it.

“Are you good, hon?” Jess’s voice drifts at me from somewhere. Her fruity perfume fills the stuffy air around me as she steps out of the human mass to check on me.

“Yes. I’m good.” I motion at my glass of water that Blaze spiced up with some vodka a little while ago to help with my anxiety since my pills haven’t been doing shit. But the truth is, I’m freaking out.

“Okay, text me if you need anything?” Jess touches my shoulder and waves at Luke, who’s maneuvering through the crowd in his wheelchair. He has a new look—buzzed all his hair off and got a neck tattoo. It’s somewhat sickening to watch them being a cute couple since the ass grabbing and the vulgar kissing is their thing now. Maybe they’re doing it because tonight there’s press here or maybe they’re just happy that they’re both alive and don’t give a fuck what everyone else thinks.

I catch myself on the thought that I want that too. I want someone to look at me the way he looks at her… The same way Dakota used to look at me.I want Mikah to look at me like that now.

The show begins at around seven. I have to fight off my panic all through the first song because the lack of light inside the venue terrifies me. My gaze jumps nervously from one person to another, looking for a gun. My heart’s galloping like a horse on a racetrack and my lungs are out of air before the band finishes up their performance.

I don’t remember how exactly I end up outside. My pulse pounds heavy in my ears and the haze has taken over my brain again. All I saw was a whole lot of blurriness as I barreled through all the people in the direction of the exit sign. My hands pushed against the heavy door and I stumbled out into a sheet of fine drizzle that feels wonderfully cool on my skin.

“Hey, Cupcake Queen? Is that you?” someone calls out from off to the side.

I turn toward the sound and see a familiar face hovering near the entrance. He’s propping the wall up with his back and there’s a cigarette in his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.” I shuffle my feet and look around. We’re in the alley alone.

“Zeke,” he says. “You were at Jackson’s house a couple of months ago.”

“Right.” I nod. That was the night Mikah and I kissed. My memories of that particular moment are still a little impaired due to my being drunk and high, but I remember enough to know I liked Mikah’s lips on mine and I’d love a do-over. Even if every time this thought comes to mind, it’s basically the equivalent of me stabbing Dakota in the back. Yes, he’s dead, but it still feels exactly like that.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Zeke, trying to shake off my anxiety.

“Just paying my respects.” He sucks on his cigarette hard and his cheeks cave in for a second. “How are you holding up, Cupcake Queen?”

“Okay.” I shrug. “Life sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Fucking politicians. Milking this shit.” Zeke lifts his hand in the air and rearranges his fingers into a gun. “If it was up to me, I’d just put a fucking bullet through his head. Boom.” He jerks his hand and blows at the imaginary smoke coming from his index finger. “Game over. Motherfucker dead.”

His eyes find mine. “You okay, queen?”

I blink at him rapidly as a cold shiver runs through my body.

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