Page 30 of Screwing With The Scrooge

“Well, you look just as bad as Olive does this morning,” he says, and I frown.

“Olive never looks bad,” I grumble, and he scrubs his hands down his face.

“I’m guessing that you did what I told you not to and pushed her away last night instead of telling Olive that you’re in love with her.”

“We decided to stop seeing each other,” I agree, and he swears under his breath.

“You’re a moron.”

My gaze snaps to his and I blink.

“What?” I ask, shoving my shovel into the snow bank so that it doesn’t fall.

“You heard me. You’re an idiot. You just dumped the girl that you’re crazy about because what? You saw your dad?”

“It’s not that,” I grit out, and he rolls his eyes.

“It is. You’re letting him get in your head and you shouldn’t. That guy hasn’t been a father or parent to you since you were a kid. He shouldn’t have any control over you.”

“I know that!” I shout.

He watches me, and I can feel myself splintering apart all over again. I thought that ending things with Olive last night was the worst pain, but rehashing it now, when the wound is still fresh, hurts just as bad.

“I know that, but I can’t seem to turn it off.”

“So, you’re just going to be alone forever instead.”

It feels like the air just got knocked out of me and I shift on my feet.

“What’s the plan here, X? What are you going to do when Olive starts dating someone else? What are you going to do when she brings some other guy home?”

My hands tighten into fists and I see red at the thought.

“It’s going to happen,” he presses, and I snap.

I run my hands through my hair and start to pace.

“What happens if I hurt her?”

“X, think about it. Think about purposefully hurting Olive.”

I recoil at the thought, feeling sick to my stomach, and he nods at me.

“You won’t hurt her. You have this skewed idea of yourself where you seem to think that you’re a bad guy, but you’re not. You aren’t responsible for your mom’s death. It’s not your fault that your dad is a prick.”

I swallow and he keeps going.

“You’re my best friend, man. I can’t watch you destroy yourself. Olive makes you happy. She’s brought you out of that weird funk that you were in with all of her pranks.”

I know that what he’s saying is true. I was feeling bored, stuck in a rut, ever since I got out of the military. Even in the military, I’m not sure that I was happy.

“Maybe you should talk to someone. Come with me to the VA,” Townes says, and I frown.

“You go to the VA?” I ask him, and he huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, man. Turns out that I can’t get shot at and almost blown up without bringing some of that shit home with me. I’ve been going to some group sessions for two months now.”

I feel like a shit friend for not noticing that he was struggling and not knowing that he was going for so long.

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