Page 48 of Apathy
Dylan was the most important person in my life, and as I stood there inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne, I only wanted a hug. Nothing more. He couldn’t solve my problems, but he could make me feel safe, even if it was only for a little while.
That’s all I needed. Five minutes of peace, five minutes where my mind wasn’t trying to come up with all these absurd scenarios. Five minutes where my body wasn’t shaking like a leaf, from fear, anxiety, from the need to run and run and run, and never look back. But there was always a “but”, if I ran—who could guarantee that the demons wouldn’t follow me?
“Sky,” Dylan murmured again and removed the hair that fell over my face. I didn’t wait for him to ask more questions, because I knew we would only end up fighting. I hated how much he worried, and he hated how reckless I was. So instead, I pressed my face into his chest, letting the smell of violets from the detergent we were using calm me down.
He always felt like home, and as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, I let myself relax. I pushed myself to think about happy things, our childhood, and the smell of the freshly cut grass—me running around the yard and Dylan chasing me. I pushed myself to think about the day I would leave this godforsaken town, finally leaving everything in the past.
And it helped.
For those five minutes while he held me, I didn’t think about the darkness lurking around every corner. I didn’t think about Megan’s dead eyes, or the messages popping on my phone. I didn’t think about this insane craving I had for Ash, or the pills sitting in the first drawer of my dresser, calling my name. I didn’t think about any of that.
I allowed myself to be happy, or, well, I lied to myself to calm my racing heart.
“You’re really starting to scare me, Little One,” Dylan whispered, stroking my hair. “This isn’t like you. I’ve been here for two weeks, and you’ve barely left your room.”
I shrugged, not wanting to elaborate on the reasons why I decided to lock myself inside and ignore the rest of the world. Lauren thought I wasn’t in the mood, but it was so much more than that.
“You usually want to do things when I’m here. We didn’t even go for dinner outside of the house, not to mention anything else. Now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I saw you eat properly.” He placed his hands on my upper arms and took a step back, searing me with his eyes. “You are eating, right?”
Goddammit, Dylan. Just don’t ask me that. Please, please, please…
Masks were wonderful things, but they had expiration dates just like everything else, and mine… mine was cracking. I don’t know how long I would be able to pretend that everything was okay, when each day was becoming darker and darker, and it felt as if it would never stop.
This endless despair, endless need to disappear, it was suffocating me.
“Skylar.” His tone wasn’t as soft as it was a minute ago. “You are eating, right?”
“If I tell you that I am, will you let it go?”
“Goddammit, Sky!” He started pacing the room, and I started bracing myself for a lecture I didn’t want to hear from him. “Are you out of your mind?” Here we go. “I can literally see the veins beneath your skin! That’s how pale you are.” Yeah, as if I didn’t know. He suddenly stopped a few inches away from me and I didn’t like the serious look on his face. His left eye started twitching, and he ground his teeth before he asked the next question. “Do you have a new boyfriend? Is he making you do this?”
“What?” I laughed. “No! I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
“I just.” I shrugged. “I’m not exactly hungry.”
“Tough luck, Little One, because if you don’t get your ass downstairs for lunch, I’m gonna carry you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me,” he threatened as he started walking out of my room. “Dad is here today, and he wants to see you before he leaves in two hours. You have five minutes.”
Five minutes?
As bile rose to my throat, a well-known taste of anxiety, the drumming in my ears only increased as Dylan started retreating toward the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I loved my father, but I didn’t want to talk to him today. Judah Blackwood, our father, was just like Winworth. Only two moods existed for him, and if today wasn’t one of the good days, the only thing I would hear during this lunch was him criticizing every little thing about me.
“Dylan!” I protested. “That’s not—”
“Five fucking minutes, Skylar!” His voice echoed through the hallway, and from my past experiences, my brother wasn’t the type of person that would give out empty threats.
I wasn’t lying to him—I didn’t feel hungry—but I couldn’t let him worry about me.
* * *
The smell of roasted chicken seeped into my nostrils as soon as I walked down the staircase, stopping just outside the kitchen. My father was laughing at something, and Dylan’s gruff voice penetrated through the air, warming me from the inside out.
I missed having Dylan here. I knew he was only one text away, but it was different from actually having him here.
