Page 24 of Meet Cute

If I’m going to do it, I can’t leave any loose ends. Not with her. I’ve fucked up so much between her and I, but I won’t let it get that far. My best friend deserves peace of mind, that’s for sure.

Absent-mindedly, I open our text chain. But no, I can’t do that. Can’t explain this with pixels on a screen. Sitting up in my disgusting state of a bed, my finger hovers over the call button.

Pushing it is easy, but accepting the fact I’m going to have to grovel and apologize for my shitty behavior isn’t.

Brrrr. Brrrrrr. Brrrrrrr—

“What?” Not only does she sound tired, but she sounds pissed. “You’ve got some nerve calling me out of the blue when you—”

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that last time. You swore—”

The flood gates open, and my voice breaks.. I’ve been laying here so devoid of any emotion other than numbing sadness that just hearing her is enough to make me cry. “Haley.”

“Dunk… are you…?”

“My mom is done with me. She wanted to send me to fucking conversion therapy. Can you… Can you believe that?” The weak laughter that follows is so defeated. “My own mother…”

“...That’s not right. Can I please come visit you? I’m really… I’m worried about you.” It’s evident in her voice. I’m making her sick. “You shouldn’t be alone. Not now.”

Happy. I have to be happy. I need to make her feel secure in the fact that I’m okay. “It’s fine. That’s just a waste of money. I’m not… alone. I have my friend, remember? Finn?”

“Duncan…”

“It was just a lot. I know I said I wouldn’t go ghost again, and then I did… and I really am sorry about that. But it’s hard to explain. The way I’m feeling…” I sigh. “I’ll get over it. I like being alone, mostly.”

My best friend groans in displeasure. I wonder if she’s really buying into this? “You’re absolutely certain?”

“I’ve been a bad friend, and I’m sorry.” Sniffling, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand like an infant. “I really want you to know how much I love you. You mean literally everything to me.”

“I love you too. Always. You know that.”

“I do. I really, really do.”

She inhales, but before she can respond some muffled voice yells in the background. “Shoot. I really… I’m on the train to work. I have to go. Can we please talk about this later? Please?”

“Of course.” A lie. “Sorry for calling so early.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Go back to bed. You need it. Love you, Dunk”

The knife is being twisted over and over. God, it’s unbearable. “Love you too, bye.”

Letting my phone fall amidst the unwashed sheets, I take another breath. No relief is found, though. Only overwhelming sorrow. Standing up, I dredge over to the bathroom and flick the light on.

Without even looking at the mirror, I twist on the water and begin undressing. I’m too scared to be tempted by what’s in the medicine cabinet, and I don’t want to see the miserable state I’m in.

Water hisses as it shoots out of the showerhead, cascading down my back and pitter-patting against the floor below. I just don’t feel anything. It’s like my whole body is asleep except for my mind.

After drying myself and shambling to the kitchen, I pour myself the saddest bowl of cereal and eat it dry. My stomach growls fiercely, and when my eyes find the calendar I realize how long it’s actually been.

A little over a week and a half. That’s how long I’ve holed myself up in my room and ignored all my responsibilities. No wonder shit has been so rough lately. But I can’t help it. Even finding the strength to get out of bed today was exhausting.

My phone vibrates.

Finn!! :)

Duncan, I’m getting really worried. I’m sorry if I did anything wrong, I didn’t mean to upset you. Please don’t stop talking to me. I promise that I’ll do better. I can be better, if that’s what you want.