Page 51 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

It doesn’t take long to feel the effects. The numbness I crave comes within a few short minutes. In that time, I resolve that alcohol shall be my preferred method to treat the pain. Hugs can get fucked! I don’t need them.

“So, I’ve decided to go as Cruella De Vil,” Charlotte announces.

Lana nods. “Nice. How are you going to do your hair?”

That’s the last thing I remember until Tommy arrives to pick me up. I don’t know what I said. I don’t know what happened in any of my classes, or if I even went to class. All I know is that by the time the last bell rings, this heart of mine feels too heavy to carry. I want to cut it right out of my chest just to ease the load.

Tommy takes one look at me when I get into his car and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t look at me when he opens them again. Instead, he sighs his disappointment and shifts the car into gear. We’re halfway to the store when he finally breaks the silence.

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looks over at me when I let out a shaky breath. “Do you need to throw up?”

“No,” I answer quietly. “Hey, Tommy, we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, we’re friends, Izzy.”

Maybe it’s because I’m an inebriated mess, but I needed that confirmation. “What do you get out of being friends with me?”

He throws a confused glance my way. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. What do you get out of it?”

“You.” He shrugs, like I should know the answer. “I get you with all your snark and sarcasm, your unabashed honesty, your inappropriate humor. I don’t need to get more than that from our friendship.”

“Do you care about me?”

“Of course.”

I take a deep breath because I’m way too emotional and inching ever closer to another panic attack. “And you would never leave me, right?”

Even I can hear the tearful desperation in my voice, and I quickly look toward the window so I can buy a few seconds to pull myself together. I feel Tommy’s questioning eyes on me, but I keep facing the other way. The mall comes into view, and he takes a left into the parking lot.

“Izzy, where is all this coming from?”

“Please, just answer the question.”

“No, I’m not going to leave you. I’m here for at least another twenty, thirty years.”

I nod, though I’m still not fully convinced. “My dad didn’t love me enough to stay, Tom. No guy isevergoing to love me enough to stay. I’m caught in this downward spiral, and I don’t know how to regain control of my own life. I’m a disaster and no one wants that. No one wantsme. My usefulness only lasts about ten minutes...so I need you to mean it when you say that.”

He abruptly pulls over, parking haphazardly over two or three bays. Reaching over, he takes my hands in his. “I mean it, you clingy bitch. I’ve seen you at your absolute worst, and even that wasn’t enough to scare me off.”

“Good. And I hope you realize that it’s all on you now. You have to take on the full responsibility of keeping me company while I grow old alone.”

“God, you’re so depressing when you’re drunk. Fine. I, Thomas James Mc Clarkson, hereby swear to be by your side through all the trials and tribulations, all the joys and sorrows as you grow old alone. I vow to always be the ear that listens as you bitch and complain about your pathetic life as you enter your fifties with nothing but cobwebs in your crack.”

I hiccup a laugh despite the heaviness still weighing on my chest. “Your commitment to this is inspiring.”

“And I promise to make sure that your tits are always in the perfect position and your cleavage is on point. Even when they start to sag down to your knees, I’m gonna be there to lift them up.”

I half-smile and put on my old English accent. “Mark off this day, Squire. It is a day to be celebrated, the day youofficiallybecame my best friend.”

“Ah, majesty. What an honor you have bestowed on me on this great day.” He pulls me closer to kiss my forehead. “Now, do you want to get ice cream so you can tell me what happened today?”

“Yeah.” I nod slowly. “I don’t do tears in public, so just give me a few minutes in the bathroom and then I’ll be ready to talk.”

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