Page 99 of Damnation
I’m sitting at a table in the school cafeteria with a steaming cup of coffee in my hands, but I can’t bring myself to swallow any of it. I have a lump in my throat and a hollowness in my gut that has kept me up all night.
“It just keeps getting worse and worse,” I tell my two best friends, who look sadly at me. “I just don’t get it; he hated his father. How can the man’s death have destabilized him this much?”
Tiffany reaches her hand out to squeeze mine. “I imagine that, when Thomas’s father died, a big part of Thomas’s life went with him. It was a toxic existence that he got trapped in like a loop. But I think that, even though that existence was poisonous, he feels lost without it.”
Alex nods. “Maybe he just needs more time to grieve.”
I shake my head, looking down. “No, it’s not just that; I’m sure of it. There’s something else…something he’s not telling me. Something that’s torturing him. Something happened the night he went to see his father in the hospital; he changed so drastically after that. And the more days that pass, the further I feel him slipping away from me. I don’t know how to stop it from happening. I feel stupid for thinking it, but part of me was hoping that my being there would be enough for him. That just knowing that I was with him, by his side, would have kept him from completely falling apart. But that didn’t happen. I’m losing him anyway.”
“Hey, you’re not losing him,” Tiffany says immediately.
I nod, and I can feel my eyes filling up with tears. I know she’s wrong.
“No, honey, you can’t think that way. It’s just that, unfortunately, our love isn’t always enough to save someone. And you don’t have to see it as a flaw or a failure; it’s just the truth.”
“You can’t make him your responsibility; he has to find the will to pull out of this on his own,” Alex adds. “Or he runs the risk of dragging you down with him.”
“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Just watch as he destroys himself? I can’t. It’s too painful.”
Neither Tiffany nor Alex respond. They don’t have to; sometimes words aren’t unnecessary. I hang my head miserably, and we just sit there, surrounded by a silence freighted with meaning. I can’t listen to their advice; anything I try would be useless. But I also can’t just sit back and wait for time to heal this wound.
When we finish our coffee, I trudge listlessly to my philosophy classroom. Thomas’s usual seat is vacant again. I find myself tapping my pencil on my notebook through the whole lecture, staring robotically at the blank sheet before me while Professor Scott reviews some of Nietzsche’s works.
“Vanessa… Psst! Vanessa!”
I snap out of my thoughts with a jolt. I turn to the right and see Logan. “What is it?” I ask, confused. His eyes widen, darting between me and the professor, who is also staring at me.
“We’re waiting on you,” Professor Scott says, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.
I straighten up in my chair, tuck my hair behind my ears, and clear my throat. “I…um…well, I got distracted. I’m sorry,” I admit, not bothering to beat around the bush.
“Yes, we noticed. I was asking you about your thoughts on fragility as a component of the human condition.”
I blink, discombobulated. Is that the topic of this class? God, I’ve missed everything. “Fragility as a component of the human condition? I–I don’t know.”
“Think about it. In fact, I invite all of you to do the same.” This last bit is addressed to all the students in the classroom. “Develop a thought on the topic, and the next time you are called upon to discuss it, we might get to hear some interesting, diverse points of view. That’s it for today.”
I sigh, tucking my books and notes into my bag and leaving the classroom.
“Hey!” Logan says, falling into step beside me.
“Oh, hey, hi,” I answer, not even looking at him. I’m too busy checking my phone to see if Thomas has called. But of course, he hasn’t.
“I haven’t heard from you since you canceled our meetup. And lately, it seems like you’ve always got your head in the clouds; is everything okay?”
“I’m sorry for blowing you off at the last minute and never following up,” I say, typing out a quick text to Thomas, just to ask how he’s doing. “Some things came up that I had to prioritize. But I’m still willing to help you study.” Resigned to the fact that I’m definitely not going to get a reply, I stick the phone back in my bag. “Actually, what am I saying? I don’t work Thursdays, and I only have two classes in the morning. We could mee—” I’m interrupted by a shoulder check that makes me stumble back a few steps.
“Oh, so sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Shana snickers mockingly, flanked by a group of her friends. She also throws Logan a dirty look as she passes.
“Why is she so mad at you?” asks Logan, who watches her go by with a troubled look.
I stare at him for a few seconds, not saying a word. “I could ask you the same question,” I say finally.
“Huh?”
“The looks you two give each other…” I answer, adjusting my bag to sit better on my shoulder.
His face twists into a grimace. “What looks are you talking about?”
