Page 13 of Saving Tracey
I shrugged, acting as if the situation wasn't affecting me. "You don't have to apologize for her," I didn’t look at him, instead keeping my eyes trained on my desk. "It wasn't your fault she was acting the way she was."
"Yeah, but she's my girlfriend.” It didn’t sound like he enjoyed that. "Sometimes I have to apologize for her because she's afraid to do it herself."
Or maybe because she just doesn't feel sorry?
I looked down at my hands in my lap. What kind of guy felt obligated to apologize for his girlfriend, always cleaning up her messes?The golden boy strikes again, obviously. Besides the violence question, I really didn't think that there was a bad bone in Kaleb's body.
That didn't mean I was going to trust him though.
"She's not a very good girlfriend if she counts on you to do everything for her.”
He blew out a harsh breath, and I saw him run his hands through his hair through my peripheral vision. "She drives me up the wall sometimes, but every time I try to break up with her, she pops pills or cuts her wrists." I had to bite back a snort. "Her brother and her family keep telling me not to worry about it and just let her go, that they'll make sure she doesn't do anything stupid like that, but how could I live with myself knowing I let someone just kill themselves?"
Suicide wasn't a stupid thing. People found peace in suicide. Sometimes, it was the only safe escape people had.
I shrugged. "Let her.” I knew it was a blunt response, one he probably wasn’t expecting from me. He swung wide, shocked eyes to me. "Maybe there are other reasons besides you that make her want to kill herself."
He shook his head. "This girl gets everything." He waved his arms out to the side. "She throws a little tantrum, threatens to run away, or something of those sorts, and her parents give her whatever she wants. I'm the one thing she wants that a tantrum can't get her, so she resorts to the next best thing."
Okay, was it bad I actually agreed with him?
In some cases, I guess suicide was stupid—like hers.
Would he think that about me?
No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. I was nobody to him.
Yeah, but he wants to be your friend, I reminded myself.
Yeah, but I didn't want to be his.
My suicide wouldn't affect him. I would die peacefully, not worrying about someone crying over me or missing me desperately. I wouldn't hurt anyone when I was finally gone.
I looked over at him, pulling myself from my thoughts. "As I said, if she wants to do it, let her. She's obviously not that serious about it if she hasn't at least almost accomplished it before, right? She's scared to die."
He seemed to think about it.
I had come close. I had felt dizzy, seen the black spots, felt weak. There were times when I was so disoriented that after a few days, I would finally come to and I wouldn't know how I was still alive, how there was a bandage on my wrist, why there was a blood bag attached to me.
He looked over at me with a small smile. "I'd really love it if you'd be my friend." His abrupt subject change left me with mental whiplash. I gritted my teeth so hard that I could literally hear them grind together. "You've got great insight into things."
I huffed in irritation, making his small smile turn into a full-fledged grin.
Here we were, right back to the whole will you be my friend bullshit.
Chapter Four
Istared down at the floor in my room with a sour expression on my face. My mom and dad were both here at home, and I was just waiting for the moment that my dad got angry and came into my room to take out all of his anger on me.
I had already been forced to throw up pills today. Afterward, my mom proceeded to dig around in my room until she found my stash and flushed every single bottle of pills down the toilet, forcing me to watch her as she did so.
Why did people like her have to stop people like me from escaping?
Then again, why were there even people like her or him on this earth?
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on from thinking too much. Too much had happened today. Between Kaleb and then my mom, I was drained of any energy I may have had. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep, but I wasn't even allowed to do that—not until I was given permission to do so.
I had to ask permission to do anything, and I hated it.
