Sicko(15)

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth as she tucks her blonde hair behind her ear. I watch as she fidgets with her rings, her bracelet, before going back to her hair. “It’s Royce. We woke this morning and he’s gone. His room is tipped upside down—” Her voice once again catches in her throat and she moves to the other side of the room to gather a handful of tissues. Pressing them to her nose, she blows loudly. There’s a knock on the door.

Dad moves between my mom and me, his eyes remaining on mine. That same chill slides down my spine. When he prances past me, he moves in slow motion. His chest is out in confidence, a slight close-lipped smile. I get that he’s trying to reassure me, but nothing is going to help.

Mom takes my hand in hers, but everything is moving slow. Caught in the confusion of it all, I tug on the palm of her hand. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s Royce,” she murmurs, swiping the stray tears with her tissues. “He’s gone, sweetheart.”





Four Years Later



“Like family to me.” Has to be the most overused term in history. Family. Six letters, one meaning, but double-sided. Family could be the reason why you trust someone, or it can be the reason why you’d never trust anyone again. I already know what side I sit on.

If you struggle to sleep at night, someone is thinking of you. Like an anchor, tugging on your soul to keep it in this world, as opposed to losing yourself in purgatory. Isn’t that what a dream state is? Purgatory for your head and the messed-up shit that happens inside of it? The place your demons meet with your sanity, and they fight about who will win. Will it be your nightmares or the actuality of peace? I like to think of my life as purgatory, where every day I struggle with both sides. The good, the bad, and the demons I can’t get rid of. Unfortunately. I would say that I’ve been healing in purgatory for the past four years, but I haven’t. My soul is trapped in Hell, unwilling to move on. I’ve blocked people out, shut down, and turned to things I shouldn’t to pacify the raw hunger I feel for the one person I should never have lost

Sloane drops down on the chair opposite me at our favorite coffee shop in the heart of San Francisco, right near The Market. I can’t wait to finally be out of San Francisco. To escape this endless cycle of my personal nightmare.

“Are we going out this weekend?” Sloane asks, hiding her face behind a curtain of newly dyed red hair. “You know, one last hurrah in The Bay area before we have plenty more hurrahs at college together this time.”

Her logic doesn’t make sense since we already spend a lot of time partying anytime she is home. For the past four years, I’ve been making up for lost time. Getting stuck in whatever I can by doing whatever I want. Sloane remained the most popular girl in Stone View, even when she’s away at UCLA. I did okay too, but we all know it’s because of—him.

“Yes,” I answer quickly. “I need a distraction this weekend.” It’s Friday night, but that’s not the reason why I need a distraction. It’s the date that this Friday is.

Her hand comes to mine, the corners of her blue eyes crinkling around the edges. Sloane isn’t the same girl she used to be. She’s older, rounder, sexier. She’s not some na?ve little puppy that wants to hang around all of the hot people at school. Now she scares them off by baring her teeth. “I’m sorry. How long has it been now?” The waiter comes to our table.

“Four years,” I murmur before distracting myself with coffee. “Can I get a caramel latte, please.”

Sloane orders hers before looking back at me. “Shall we change the subject?”

I nod. “Yes. About this weekend…” I never like talking about him. In fact, I’ve gone four long fucking years without so much as whispering his name.

I’m angry. Hurt. But mostly, angry.

Sloane starts yapping off about what she wants us to do and how we should go about it. I’m not surprised to hear that Matty is home and throwing a party at his parents beach house. Not much has changed where Matty is concerned. Still with the same girl, attending UCLA with Sloane, and still the biggest party-thrower in Stone View. We continue through our plans as I sip on two lattes, a bowl of chili fries, and a chocolate cake. When it’s time for both of us to head home, I kiss her goodbye and make my way out to my car.



Distraction is the key that cracks open a broken soul. I turn up the music in my BMW all the way home. Home. The large white pillars hold the old-school plantation style mansion up delicately, so uncommon to the standard architecture of San Fran. The manicured grass springs to life and the scatter of vibrant flowers give the otherwise plain style multi-million-dollar property a version of life. Everything is exactly the same, without it being exactly the same. I look at this house with new eyes since he left.

Sighing, I reach for my handbag and crawl out of my car. I can’t wait to not be here.

“Jade? Is that you?” Mom asks as I slam the front door closed. I was hoping to slip in discretely, but I’m shit out of luck. Like usual.

I drop my bags near the front door, removing my scarf. Mom has changed a little over the past four years, becoming more maternal. I think she regrets a lot of what happened with him, and now she’s trying to make up for it with me. It’s exhausting.

When I amble into the kitchen, I catch her with a wooden spoon clutched in her delicate hand, stirring through cake batter in a couple of large bowls. Her blonde hair is cut razor-sharp now, hanging casually around her jawline. “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”