Page 142 of My Lovely Tragedy
“Fine,” I rasp, the word barely audible. My eyes are so swollen, they barely open. But that’s okay. There’s not much really worth seeing anyway.
“Always fine, huh,” Benji says, knocking his head against mine from where he’s suctioned against my right side. Dexter leans back from where he’s sprawled in my lap, against the arm of the couch, and shoving his bare feet in Ben’s lap. Cobain’s balancing on said arm on my right, with his own around my neck, fingers still massaging my shoulder.
It’s overwhelming after so long with only Tobias to talk to. To touch andbe with.
I forgot what it’s like to be with my family. How…muchthey are. And that they really do care, despite everything. Even if they don’t understand…
“Well, I’m not going to kill myself if that’s what y’all are worried about,” I mutter. The words taste acidic, but it’s thewhybehind them that brings indignation surging up. And it feels fucking good to feel something other than… hopeless vacancy.
“Jesus, Brooklyn,” Cobain mutters.
“What?” I glance around as best I can. “It’s what you’re all thinking.”
A pause. “Yeah.”
“Then, there you go. An assurance.”
“Your word doesn’t really stand for much right now, man.” Ben, of course.
I shrug, causing Cobain to teeter back as he loses his balance. “It is what it is.”Which is fucking confusing,I want to blurt, but that wouldn’t make any sense to them. It doesn’t even make any sense to me. But there are some things—most things—I have to keep to myself. “Just…” I drag my hand through my tangled hair. “Just believe me. Please.”
They must hear something in my voice because they collectively exhale together, like they are in perfect sync, and I’m on the outside, looking in. “Okay.”
Okay.
I blink. Exhale. Nobody moves. When I glance to my left, Dex catches my eyes. His mouth curves up in a meek smile, cheeks scrunched and dimpled. It’s so awkward, I can’t stop the laugh from barreling out. It’s short and dry, but it’s real, and that…stings.Feels wrong and uncomfortable, but I can’t…
Stop. Just be here for a minute. Not… not there.
I part my lips, but nothing comes out, so instead, I grasp my key and stare ahead at the show illuminated on the TV.
Slow murmurs start back up. Hushed at first between Dex and Cobain, but then Dexter kicks his foot against Benji’s thigh, making him grunt. He sits up and clasps his foot, holding it in the air. “What have I told you about fuckin’ kicking me?” He’s frowning, but even in my peripheral, I can see the gleam behind it. It makes his eyes fuckingglitter.He drops Dexter’s leg back into his lap with a grumbled, “Brat.”
Dex snickers and rolls around in my lap until he’s on his side, facing the TV with his hands clasped under his face. I stare down at him, perfectly relaxed and content, back at Cobain, and then over to Benji, who hits play on the show without a word. As the sound starts back up, I can’t help but wonder,were we like this before? Or have I just lost sight of everything but him?
It’s all strange and new, only with the faintest echoes of memories long lost. And they don’t seem like they are moving anytime soon, so I settle back against Cobain’s arm to watch the screen through slitted eyes.
Something grazes over my exposed wrist. I jerk, and it’s gone. “Sorry,” he whispers in my ear. “Just wanted to give this back.” I peer down, seeing the matte black cover of my notebook. I grab it and wrap my arm around it before grasping my key again.
“Thank you,” I murmur. He hums softly, and the breathy vibration makes every hair on my body stand on end. The shiver snakes down my nape, along each vertebra, to the nerves interwoven within. It’s sharp—drilling holes into my flesh.
Dexter’s jostling laugh draws my eyes open. He’s tossed his head back, cackling and vibrating as my legs bounce him. I stop their shaking instantly, and he collapses on top of me with a snicker. “You’ve got some serious fucking leg power, dude.”
I wince. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was even doing it.”
“It’s cool,” he grins, then his eyes snake to Benji, keeping them pinned on him as he says to me, “It’s the most action I’ve seen in weeks.”
Benji smacks him atop his thigh, and he jerks up with a bursting laugh. “Rude!”
“And you’re a fucking brat,” Benji retorts, eyes never straying from the screen. I glance between them. Cobain laughs behind me.
My eyebrows pinch. “What am I missing?”
“Well,” Dexter drawls as he points at the screen and waves his hand around, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, either. It’s some Sci-Fi shit—becausethat’s what Cobain wanted to watch.” He does a poor job mimicking his voice, which makes me snort. “And it’s old, so it’s hella confusing, but?—”
“I don’t think that’s what he meant, Dex,” Ben cuts him off. Dexter shifts in my lap, seemingly uncomfortable, which is new for him. Cobain chuckles again, fingers tightening on my shoulder, and I realize, maybe I don’t want to know.
I force my eyelids to open enough for them to see my irises, if they want. “It doesn’t matter, yeah?” Dexter rolls over, eyes searching. I tense, preparing for the contact. And when I look into his eyes, it’s not as hard as I thought it would be.
