Page 18 of Fighting the Darkness

ME:Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.

Still avoiding Wilder’s messages, I flip back to Quinn’s. I can’t just leave her on read. Both she and Vicki were worried about me. It’s not up to me to decide if they want to be my friend or not. All I can do is try.

ME:Honestly? I’ve had a bad week.

ME:I’m still having a bad week, but today I woke up and was able to get out of bed. I finally checked my phone.

ME:That’s progress.

QUINN:It is. If you need anything, let me know.

ME:Thank you.

My heart is hammering in my chest. When was the last time I was honest with someone in my life about how I was feeling? Besides with her the other night, I don’t think I have been.

Part of me is glad that I was honest with Quinn and even Vicki to a point. The other part is freaking out that I’m going to scare them off. If I do scare them off, they weren’t meant to be in my life. I need to accept that.

With the decision made, I look at the two unread messages before clicking on the unknown number.

UNKNOWN:It was nice seeing you tonight.

Looking at the time stamp, I realize it was from the night I’d gone to The Guillotine. I frown, wondering who could have been texting me.

It’s probably a wrong number. The only people who have my number that I saw that night are Quinn, Vicki, and Wilder. Since I have messages from each of them, I know it’s not them. Therefore, it has to be a wrong number.

I quickly delete the message and click on Wilder’s, knowing that if I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve.

WILDER:I don’t care if you’re suddenly besties with Quinn, I’ll find a way to keep you away.

WILDER:I don’t think your parents would approve of you going to the fights.

I snort at his audacity. Who the fuck does he think he is?

ME:Threaten me all you want, douche canoe, but you can’t keep me from doing whatever the hell I want.

ME:Go ahead and tell my parents. If they try to keep me from going to the fights, I’ll tell them the same thing I’m about to tell you.

ME:FUCK OFF!

Rage stirs within me as my fingers fly across my phone.

ME:How about we just pretend we don’t know one another since I’m such a burden to you?

I consider throwing my phone again, but I don’t want to break it. Instead, I power it off and leave it charging as I climb to my feet.

What made Wilder hate me so vehemently? What did I ever do to him?

Tears fill my eyes as the weight on my chest grows heavy once more. I don’t want to slip back into the depressive state I’ve finally found a reprieve from, but my thoughts are spiraling out of control again.

Moving to Freyr’s closet, I grab a pile of his t-shirts and head for the bathroom. The idea of staying in his bed for a second longer makes my skin crawl. My safe place suddenly doesn’t feel so safe anymore, but I don’t want to leave Freyr’s room. This is the one place where I can be surrounded by him.

Stepping into the bathroom, I drop the armful of shirts into the bathtub before climbing inside myself. I lift one of the shirts to my nose, my tears slipping free when I smell nothing more than fabric detergent. I scramble to pick up each of the shirts, desperate to get even a hint of his scent, but there’s nothing left on his clothes.

Sobs rock through me as I clutch his shirts to my chest.

I miss him so much.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

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