Page 14 of Chase
I drifted in and out of sleep, either dreaming of toned and long legs in those olive green leggings or having nightmares of the night B was attacked. It’s always either or. A sweet dream about Sloane or a terror about my sister being brutally hurt.
“Not now, B,” I croak out. I sound fucking pitiful. Her plea for me to open my door isn’t enough to get me to stir from my bed. I haven’t moved all day and don’t really plan on it now. Maybe if I lay perfectly still and stay quiet she’ll give up. I already know what’s coming. She was talking about it earlier in the week, texted our sib chat this morning about it, and Max was hounding me about going yesterday. I’m just not in the fucking mood to party.
She doesn’t give up. No, instead she uses the pin key on top of the door jam to pick the lock.Sisters can be so fucking annoying sometimes.
“You better be decent, I’m coming in in ten seconds unless you say otherwise,” she shouts and I start mentally counting down from ten. Right when I’m about to say “one,” she opens the door, flips the lights, and immediately plugs her nose.
“Oh my God! Chase, what’s that awful smell?” she squeals with her nose plugged from my doorway. I lift my arm up and I’m not sure what smells worse; my sweat-stained shirt and compression shorts or my armpits. Showering requires too much effort so I guess this is how I’m going to smell from now on. I sniff my underarm and the rank smell fills my nostrils. It’s still not enough to get my ass out of bed and into the bathroom though.
“I think it’s me,” I tell my sister who pinches her face together as she breathes in and out of her mouth.
“It’s clearly you, when was the last time you showered, Chase?” That’s the second time she’s called me Chase and not C. It’s telling, she’s letting me know she’s serious right now. The last thing I want to do is talk about this with her.Or anyone.
“Not sure, maybe Thursday? I don’t know, what does it matter?” I counter and eye the plate she had put down on my desk when she walked in. My stomach loudly makes its presenceknown. I’m fucking starving all of a sudden. I can’t remember if I even ate today.
“It’s Saturday night, Chase. You haven’t showered in days. When was the last time you left this room to do something besides hockey?” She asks and I shift my eyes away from hers.I followed your best friend home this morning while I was running, does that count?
I feel heat creep up my neck and flush my skin as silent moments pass. If I wasn’t watching her take in the chaotic mess around her, I would think she heard my thoughts and was stunned into silence by my borderline stalker behavior. I’ve somehow convinced myself that it’s not completely out of line since I did reveal myself to her today.
“Well, that settles it. You’re coming to this party tonight, if I can move past my anxiety and go, you can take a shower and come with me. Unless you want to stay in and tell me what's really going on with you then you’re getting out of this room,” she demands from my open doorway, balancing a full plate of strawberry and honey-topped waffles.These are her bribery waffles.
She used to make these when she wanted me to do her chores and right now she either wants me to go to the party with her or to tell her what's really going on.
I immediately swallow and narrow my eyes at her. She really wants to go to this thing tonight. Fuck, I should just get my sorry ass up and go. It’s a big deal for her and here I am feeling sorry for myself. It’s only across the street at Drew’s house. I know I’m expected to join my boys and make an appearance even though I rather keep my sorry ass home. I haven’t spoken a word to anyone since coming back from practice and falling face-first into my bed. I didn’t want to do a fucking thing today and I didn’t.
“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” I tell her and shove a fork full of food into my mouth. “Not fair, B. I know what these are,” I say and point my foodless fork at her while she takes a seat at my messy desk. She doesn’t respond, she’s too busy restacking a pile of papers that have fallen off my printer.
There’s another bout of deafening silence that lingers between us and anxiety begins to claw up my body as I watch her take in my disgusting room. I’ve tried to hide this from her. She hasn’t been in here since last semester and I’d like to think I’ve done a pretty good job keeping this from both of them. A’s just as gross and he rarely comes in here. I don’t give a shit what he says but B, well she’ll try to fix this. Fix me. And I’m not sure I can be fixed.
Her eyes track an entire case of discarded water bottles, stacks of papers, and the rest of my crap. There are multiple piles of dirty and not-so-clean clothes all over the floor and laundry baskets flipped over to serve as makeshift tables to hold dirty plates and utensils. The garbage can is overflowing and there’s a reusable grocery bag next to it with even more trash spilling over the top. The sheets haven’t been changed in a long ass time and the blinds might as well be permanently closed. I haven’t cleaned up in months. It’s a solid representation of what’s going on inside of my head. Everything is fucked up. Everything is in disarray.
“C-C-Chase,” her voice breaks as she holds her hands out to me. I don’t take them. I’m not ready to talk about any of this with her.
“Evie, I know okay? I know it’s bad. I don’t want to talk about it,” is all I say. With my appetite gone, I place the forgotten waffles on my desk and end up knocking over a pile of plastic cups to make room. She gives me a knowing look and bends down to gather the strewn red solo cups that fell.
“If you’re not ready to talk about it with me yet, can I at least help you get rid of some of this garbage? The plates? You can’t live like this, I won’t let you,” she says and starts to gather the half-drunk water bottles in her arms.
“It’s not your problem, just leave it alone, okay? You’ve been dealing with enough stuff, you don’t need mine added to your plate.” I tell her while swinging my legs over the side of the mattress and standing up outta bed.
A strong stench escapes from under my blanket and the body odor I’m giving off is foul as fuck. My sister wrinkles her nose and narrows her eyes at me. I recognize that determined look on her face.Goddammit. I don’t want to do this right now, I don’t have the energy.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You keep forgetting that your plate is my plate, that your stuff is my stuff, and that I can handle it. I’m your sister and I love you and I want to help if I can. You need to stop acting like I can’t handle it, I think I’ve proven just how strong I am,” She says while stuffing the garbage further down into the reusable bag before tossing in more trash.
“You shouldn’t have to,” I mumble and she turns on me so fast the bag in her hand knocks into my side.
“What does that mean?” she says and I don’t miss how angry she sounds.
“It means you shouldn’t have to shoulder my shit since I’m the reason you’ve had to be strong in the first place.” I’m shouting at her and she doesn’t even flinch. An awkward moment of silence sits between us and I take the bag from her, shove as much garbage as I can, and tie the fabric handles together to keep it all inside.To keep it together.The realization nearly has me sitting down on my dirty bed again. It’s me. I’m the garbage bag. I’m such a piece of shit.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for what they did. It’s eating away at you and it’s not healthy. Don’t you see that?It doesn’t need to be like this, Chase. You’re clearly depressed and you’re using what happened to me as an excuse to, what? Punish yourself? Stop using my trauma as a reason for you to be miserable. As a reason for you to be alone.” She shouts back, her eyes are full of anger and tears. Her arms go wide, referencing the many messes both literally and figuratively that I’ve found myself in.Depression. That’s exactly what it is.
“You know what I see? I see that I’m someone who let you down twice. I deserve to be alone. I’m not going to mess her up like I’ve -”
“Like what? Like you’ve messed me up? Is that what you were going to say? Is that what you really think? You know what messes me up, you keeping things from me, you holding things in, you blaming yourself for something I’ve forgiven you for.” She takes a deep breath and steadies herself. “You need to forgive yourself, Chase, you're not living; you're scraping by. I know what that’s like. It’s lonely. It’s unbearable. It also doesn’t have to be like this. You're the only one who can make things better, and it starts by wanting to be better. It doesn’t matter if I’ve forgiven you or not. You need to forgive yourself too.”
“One more thing, the only reason you’re denying yourself being with her is because of some bullshit excuse that you’re undeserving because of what happened to me. Take me out of it. I’m happy. I’m in love. My heart is fine. Yours is broken and it doesn’t have to be.”
“What the fuck is going on?” A’s voice booms as he steps inside my room and pinches his whole face together in disgust. “It’s a fucking disaster in here.”It’s a disaster in my head too, jackass.
