Left Drowning(83)

I lift my hair while she does the clasp. Although I don’t want any of them thinking badly of Chris or disapproving of his choices, I can’t help but feel flattered. She turns me around again. “There. It looks perfect on you.” She looks at my expression and clamps a hand over my mouth. “Stop it. Don’t say thank you to us. This is us thanking you. I’m going to take my hand away, and you’re not going to say it, agreed?”

I nod and she drops her hand.

Eric clears his throat. “I’m … I’m gonna go after Zach. He’s leaving tomorrow, too,

so …”

“I understand,” I say.

Another good-bye. Another hug. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I tell him.

He holds me for a long time and then leaves before either of us loses it. He doesn’t have to say anything else to me.

Estelle is next. My roommate and my tough-as-shit friend.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’m going out for the night, as I’m sure you guessed.”

I smile.

“I know that you know. So thank you for not blabbing to my brothers. They’d freak. I appreciate your discretion.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Blythe, listen. This mess with Chris? It sucks. It really sucks.” She reaches out and touches my necklace for a moment. “Our mother would have loved you. I don’t even remember that much about her. Just bits and pieces, but I remember how it felt to be around her, you know? And I’m sure that she would be goddamn ape-shit crazy for you. Just like we all are.”

I can’t talk, so Estelle continues.

“All of us, Blythe. I hate everybody, and even I’m f*cking nuts about you. You’re a cool shit. Chris is so out of his mind that he can’t see what’s right in front of him. He’s going to regret this. He’s going to f*cking regret it because you’re going to go off and find someone else, someone smarter than Chris. And I’ll try to be happy for you when you do, even though I don’t want you with anyone else besides my stupid, blind, stubborn brother.”

“Oh, Estelle …” I know what she’s trying to do, but I don’t have that kind of hope right now. “There won’t be anyone else.”

“Don’t say that, Blythe. Don’t sit around waiting for him. That’s not fair to you.”

I know she’s right, but it’s too soon for me to even consider love after Chris. I’m still in too deep.

“I’m not a hugger, but I’m going to hug you anyway.” She smiles at me, but she looks like she’s fighting as hard as I am not to cry.

“Okay, I’m ready. Bring it.” I force a smile back and hold out my arms.

She squeezes me hard. “I’m going to miss the f*cking f*ck out of you.”

I laugh. “And I’m going to miss the f*cking f*ck out of you, too.”

“And I’ll video chat the holy shit out of you all the time.”

“And I’ll love it. Just no vibrators on-screen, okay?”

“God, you really are a bitch after all.” She gives me one last squeeze and blows me a kiss as she leaves.

For one brief moment, she drops the hard edge. It’s not what she says, but the tone in her voice and softness in her face. She looks like a little kid, and that hurts to all hell. “I know that I’ll never have another mom, and I know that you’re way too young for me to look at that way, but …” She taps her stiletto heel. “There’s something about you. I will never for a second forget that I had the best f*cking roommate anyone could ever ask for.”

***

At one fifteen in the morning, he shows up at my door. I know it’s him just by the rhythm of his knock. I’m too tired to care that I’m in a ragged shirt and underwear, and I stumble through the dark.

I open the door and step aside, but Chris stays where he is, hands in his pockets and his eyes to the ground. He’s not here for a good reason, that much I can feel.

“Are you looking for Estelle? She’s not here.”

He just shakes his head.

“Chris?” Something is wrong. Any animosity I have dissipates immediately. I take him by the arm and lead him through the dark. “What is it?”

He sits next to me on the bed, silent. I give him time because I can tell this is hard for him. Chris doesn’t seem like himself, and he’s worrying me. I take his hand. “Tell me.”

“My father had a heart attack. It was bad.”

“Oh God, Chris.”

He lies down as though he doesn’t have the strength to sit any longer, and I move with him, keeping his hand in mine. He immediately rolls into me, silently asking me to hold him. And I do.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“No.” He whispers and presses his cheek into my chest. “I’m not okay because he’s not dead.”

It takes me a second to understand what he has just said to me. The tragedy of it. I have no idea how to respond to this.

“Why didn’t he die? Why didn’t he die?” Chris grabs on to my arms so that I hold him closer. “Why wasn’t I strong enough?”

I stroke his hair. “Strong enough for what?”

“Why wasn’t I strong enough to kill him myself?”