I Need You So Much Closer

Chapter 9: Best of Deceptions

"I can finally take you out on a real date. Take you out for once. Aren't you excited?" I say excitedly. I rub my hands over the steering wheel of my new car. It's not much, kind of old, pretty beat up, but it runs. And that's all that really matters.

"I am so excited," Ash says grabbing my hand and squeezing it lightly. I look over at her, and I just smile. I love her so much. How did I ever deserve her? "Where are we going?"

My smile widens. "It's a surprise."

She starts to tickle me. "James Tiberius Yorke, you tell me right now where we're going!"

"You'll love it, I promise." She rolls her eyes and presses her head back against the seat. I rub her knee slightly to be touching her in some way. "Have you seen Emma since you've been back?" I ask.

"No, how is she?"

I shrug. "Maybe you should just go see her every once in awhile. I know she'd appreciate it. I try, but I'm still just a guy. I think she wants to talk about Craig. I think she still loves him, and she's really beating herself up over breaking up with him."

"Poor Em," she says wringing her hands. "It's really hard to have that much regret." We continue to drive in an awkward silence. What, exactly, did she mean by that? "JT, I can't take it anymore, I love you."

"Okay," I say smiling over at her. "I love you too."

"There's something I better tell you."

I look over into her obviously disturbed eyes. "What's that, Ash?" I say as calmly as possible. But the truth is, I know her tone, and her own lack of faith that we won't make it through whatever this is kills me slowly.

"Tell me that you love me."

"So much, Ash. I love you so much that I can't sleep at night. I can't do anything except want to do right by you." She puts her head down, and when she brings it up again, tears are falling freely onto her lap and she's making loud sobbing noises. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

"You don't want to hear this. Trust me. You don't want to hear this."

"But I'm pretty sure I need to hear this. Please just tell me whatever it is."

"Pull over, at least. Give me and this your full attention."

I do as she asks, pulling into a gas station. I rub my hands over the steering wheel in nervous anticipation. "Can you tell me now?" I ask with pleading eyes.

"When I was in Quebec, I did something that I'm so ashamed of. I hurt you so bad, and the only thing I want to do is take it back because I love you so much. I want, no I need, to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, JT, don't get angry. I was drunk; I didn't mean it. He was 28! He practically forced me."

"Ashley, it's very important that you tell me the truth about this. Did he rape you?" All I can think about is Paige. How Paige wouldn't tell me about Dean until I forced it out of her. What if this creep did the same thing to Ash? What would I do?

She shakes her head no with tears in her eyes. "No. I let him. But I was drunk! I was so drunk. I'm sorry, JT. JT, I love you."

The tears form behind my eyes, too. "It's not enough this time. Ash, you need to go."

"Please. Don't do this too me."

"I'm sorry. I can't put myself through this again. You need to leave."

"I didn't mean to. I love you."

"You love the idea of me. I've been putting up for all of this for so long, and I'm tired. There's never been anyone but you, not really. You've always been with everyone. You've always whored yourself for the greater good of others. If not sexually, then emotionally or some other way. You're amazing, but I've been obsessed with nothing but you since as long as I can remember. Obsession's not healthy. Not when I let you walk all over me and hurt me as bad as you do. I sound like some insane fucking emo kid. I need to just stop talking. Goodbye. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"You can't possibly understand." She stares at me as she opens the door and steps out and starts to trudge into the gas station. She turns around with a tear stained face, and my own tears begin to fall. "Goodbye," she lips to me. I nod and start the engine. A feeling deep within my gut nags at me to follow her, to grab her, to hold her, feel her, touch her. But I can't. One more time in my life I have to take charge because I can't be cheated or hurt again.

"I heard about your trip.
I heard about your souvenirs.
I heard about the cool breeze in the cool nights,
And the cool guys,
That you spent them with."

I plop on Spinner's bed and take a sip of the wine cooler he gave to me. "Who have you been talking to all day?" I ask. "Your line has been busy since, like, 4."

"Craig called."

"Oh?" I say, my interest officially peeked. "And how's New York treating him?"

He shrugs and laughs slightly to himself. "I guess he's having fun."

I raise my eyebrows. "You know something."

He fiddles with his drum set. "Know? No, I don't."

"You're an awful liar!"

"He's going through some rough shit, and I'm sure he doesn't want me exposing it to everyone and their mother." He chuckles slightly again, maybe at his ingenuity, maybe not. Who knows; it's Spinner.

"Just tell me before I get pissed and stop hanging out with you."

He mocks me before smiling and relenting. "He's been having a lot of fun. With a lot of people. Most of these people women. He's been having a lot of fun with women, is what I'm saying. And they aren't the clean cut Ashley and Emma- types, either. He's had more one night stands at this point than I have had boners."

My mouth drops and my sympathy for Emma almost overshadows my anger at my name being left out of Spinner's list of who Craig's dated. "Does he care about anyone? That insensitive bastard. I know it's so fucking cliche, but he hasn't changed at all. I can't fucking believe him."

Spinner looks dumbfounded. "The boy's just having fun..." he mumbles.

"Emma still loves him, Spin. She needs him, and he's fucking random women in the States. How do you think she would feel if she found out?"

"She won't, though, so why does it matter?"

"No, Spinner, I need to tell her."

"What? Why? Do you just want to hurt her more? She just lost her baby, does she need to hear something like that?"

"Well, does Craig need to be doing these things so that she has to hear them?"

"Listen, he's fucked up right now. If he finds out that I told you and you told her, he'll never talk to me again. And he'll probably do some dramatic, crazy shit. Don't leave me responsible for that."

I put the bottle on his bedside table. "Thanks for letting me know, hun," I say and kiss his cheek. "I'll probably be at Emma's for the rest of the day. I might stop by again tonight. Is that cool?" I breeze out of his room without waiting for a response. I'm not in the mood for a lecture.

"I guess she should have heard of them from you,
I guess she should have heard of them from you."

I know that something's been off. I've known it since I first stepped foot in New York, but I haven't once been able to put my finger on it. Sure, I did lose a child and a fiancé in one fell swoop. And I did admit to having feelings for my ex-girlfriend who I as good as abandoned, even though she has a boyfriend, and I'm nothing. But there's still something more, if that's physically possible, and I'm on this haunting quest to find out what it is. But I don't know where to start. I don't know how to go about picking up the pieces.

Sex hurts. I mean, it physically hurts me now. It's my only escape, my only joy, but I wish it would just fucking leave me alone. I chase this thing like a lost puppy, but the only thing I crave is a decent night's sleep.

I've met one person. One girl who I see constantly comparing myself to the girls back home. One girl who I practically stalk because I can't bear not being next to her in this icy city. Her name is Kate, and she's so fucking gorgeous. She could be some kind of model if she weren't so self-conscious. That's why I couldn't see her at first. She was alone, crying on a park bench. I could only hear her faintly when I went take pictures of this old couple. It was so cheesy of me, but I need something to take to my first class at NYU.

So I'm snapping away, working hard at an early photography career. And all I can hear is this damn chick crying, and she's hot. I saw her crying, and I knew immediately that I have to do something. Even if no one wants to think I have a heart, I do. I snapped a few pictures of her, unaware, before finally approaching her and asking what's wrong. She bitched at me, screamed, and told me I have no right to come and talk to her. So, instead of walking away like a normal scorned guy, I asked her for a date. She laughed at me, threw her hands up in the air, and relented.

I stalk her. I really do. And it's the saddest thing in the world, because she's my home base. I don't love her, and I'd venture to say that I never will, but I'm with her always. I've known her a month, and I've slept with her numerous times. I don't know why she puts up with me. I'm just a nobody guy with a fucked up past and an angst-ridden present.

Her remarkable hazel eyes quickly fill with tears as I lay down next to her on the bed we've been sharing for longer than I can count. She's been like this for a week now, doing nothing but crying the exact same way she did when I first met her. I thought this was an easy relationship. I thought wrong, like usual. "I can't believe I have it. I can't believe you gave it to me."

I kiss her shoulder again and stroke her back. I can't lose her, but I can't stand her either. There is so much conflict that I'm surprised I can choke out, "I'm sorry." But I do, and she breaks down in sobs against my chest. Her long, blonde hair sprawls wildly on the bed sheets. I draw patterns on her back with my hand for something to do, something to take me away from this pain.

"I may never be able to have children. I might not be able to ever give you children, Craig." Children, right now, are the last thing on my mind. And so is a future with her. But I simply continue to draw my patterns and I keep my mouth shut tightly. "Just think about going to the doctor for a normal visit, maybe mentioning that it hurts when you pee, and having all these tests done to find out you have Chlamydia. How would that make you feel? Oh, right, you're a guy, the most you'll get out of this is a slight infection, if anything. How lucky."

And a bitchy girlfriend, if she's even that. I actually find it quite funny that she has Chlamydia. That means I have it and I gave it to her. It feels good to not be quite so invincible. And it gives me a reason for a monotonous relationship. Like that will ever happen.

"Don't you see, don't you see,
That the charade is over?"

I giggle over the phone at the, ironically, sad story that Jay is somehow capable of turning funny. "So anyways," he says as my laughter dies down, "would you like to come over tonight? I'm having some people, alright a lot of people, over for a party."

"For why?" I ask.

"Oh you know. I don't need a reason for a party. If I have enough money for some beer, that's reason enough to celebrate. Maybe, like, Spinner and his chick will want to come over. That party they threw a while back was fucking hilarious as hell. Manny and that Ashley chick having an all out cat fight. Maybe we should bring some mud in this time."

"Sure, I'll come. And I'm sure Spin and Manny would come, too. But no Ash! That's just a recipe for disaster."

"But a really, really funny disaster," he responds.

I laugh. "Alright, I'll give you that. See you around 8?"

"See you then, Paige."

I hang up my phone and flip myself over on my bed. I end up in a standing position in front of my closet, where I start the clothes search. I silently discard most of my wardrobe from consideration before I even really begin. I pull out a slashed up red and black long shirt that would work fine, if Jay was more like Craig or Spinner. I could dress like Manny, but I'm not that gone. I need to find something simple, so it doesn't look like I'm trying, but with enough street cred that I don't stick out like a sore thumb. I fall back onto my bed and sit on my hands, staring blankly at my closet.

"Were you this nervous before our first date?" I hear a voice come from my open door.

I whip my head to the sound and jump instinctively. I look at whose standing there, and I spit my words like vomit. "You seduced me with popcorn and Sprite. Nervous was the furthest thing from my mind. Anyways, I'm not going on a date tonight. But, why are you here? You need to leave."

"I came to apologize. I hear you're still pretty pissed." Sean ventures more into the room. He fits his whole body in so that he can close the door behind him. "Or actually, I hear that pissed doesn't even begin to cover it."

I nod and scoot back on my bed so I can sit with my legs crossed in front of me. "It doesn't matter, though. Being angry doesn't change anything. So, I'm just going to deal with it."

"Should I tell your brother that?"

"I don't care, Sean. You don't seem to be comprehending the words coming out of my mouth. It doesn't matter to me what you do from this point on. Nothing's going to be the same between Dylan and I, ever, but I'm not going to make a scene every time I see one of you. It's too often, and my voice will go hoarse."

"That's amazingly mature of you," he says, finally close enough so I can look into his eyes.

I shrug. "It's life. I'm dealing."

He digs his hands into his pockets uncomfortably. "Okay, then, I'm going to go."

"Bye," I say readjusting my eyes to the closet.

He leans down to give me what I think is going to be an awkward hug. At the last second, instead, he cuts his mouth down to mine and kisses me. I spit him off. "You can't just do that," I say clearly.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

"I know. You shouldn't hurt my brother like you hurt me. And you can't just kiss me for no fucking reason." I'm not bitter, but I wrap my arms around my waist because it's suddenly gone cold.

He shakes his head at himself. "I know how stupid I am." And on that note, he turns and walks away. Again.

"And all the best deceptions,
And the clever cover story awards,
Go to you.
So kiss me hard cause this'll be the last time that I let you."

My words are slow and jumbled. "He's doing these things, in New York, without me, and he's with these girls?" I finally manage to ask.

Manny grasps my hand in her's and nods. "I'm so sorry, Em."

"It's okay, though, right? I mean, when he comes back, he won't be like this. He'll realize how stupid he's being."

Manny smiles sympathetically, but shakes her head no. "Guys like this Em, sometimes they change and they never come back."

"But we were engaged. I made the mistake. Can't he see that? Can't I make him see that? What would happened if I called him? If I made him come home? I love him, Manny."

She embraces me so that our heads rest on each other's shoulders. "I know you do. And I'm not going to lie and tell you that I know how it feels, or that it's all going to be okay. I don't know that at all. But you know that I'm going to be here, no matter how good or bad of a day you're having."

"Thanks Manny," I say wiping some of my tears on my shirt. "I get so damn emotional sometimes."

She smiles. "We all do, Emma. Especially over guys. Especially the ones thousands of miles away who still have our heart."

"I kind of thought," I offer shyly, "that he'd be like me in New York. Not thinking about anything except each other and the baby. You know, I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I just thought he'd be as depressed and mopey as me. I guess, you know, I should suck it up and move on like him. He's obviously not thinking of me."

She grips my shoulder comfortingly. "You haven't been depressed and mopey all the time. When you're hanging out with me, Toby, and JT, I don't even notice it."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks for lying to me. For me."

She shrugs. "Sometimes, you need it." I laugh at her. "I mean it, though, you seem so at ease around the three of us. Is it the group together, or just one person? Like, do you have a crush on one of the guys?"

"Manny!" I say feigning shock and embarrassment. "What are we, back in grade 7? Which one do you have a crush on, Em? Huh?"

She giggles and playfully smacks my shoulder. "All I'm saying is that your eyes seem to light up around a certain someone, and I bet if Toby and I weren't there, your eyes would still be shining."

"That's not true!" I protest. "I like us all hanging out together, as a group."

"Uh huh," she says, unconvinced.

"Manny," I say so low my voice is almost in a whisper, "is that what moving on is? Liking someone else?"

She nods, "For some people. Other people it's just, letting that person go. Not thinking about ways to get them back or ways to see them again. You had to do it before, with Sean. Don't you remember?"

I shake my head. "Puppy love. It was different. Craig and I made a child. The most Sean and I ever made was great gossip."

Manny's phone suddenly vibrates on the bed next to us. She picks it up and quickly scans the little screen. "Spin invited me to a party. Let me text him back a 'no.'"

I grab her hand to stop her. "Well, what if we go?" A smile creeps slowly onto her face.

"Are you up for it?"

I nod fervently, almost as if I'm a little child trying to convince someone older that I'm okay enough to go play on the monkey bars. "Definitely."

"You will be back someday,
And this awkward kiss that tells of,
other people's lips,
Will be of service,
to giving you away."

I sit in the abandoned parking lot, staring at the open road and the open fields past it. My heart is beating fast as I consider my options. I could just drive, drive far away from here and this pain. I could find a weak spot on the side of the road, maybe on a bridge somewhere, and end it all. I could drive back into town and pretend nothing's happened, that I'm fine as a daisy. Or I could sit here and stare into the darkness some more, not making the decisions that I never make hastily.

I jump slightly as the ring tone on my phone begins to play the Canadian anthem. I snap it up and place it against my ear. "Yes?" I ask impatiently.

"Hey JT, it's Em," the sweet voice comes into my ears.

"Emma, hey," my own voice responds, changing dramatically. "How are you?"

"I'm doing alright, and yourself?"

"Surviving."

I can hear her smile through the phone lines. "What were you planning on doing tonight?" Even by the words she uses, I can tell I'll be with her tonight. What 'were' you planning? As in, whatever it is, it will be changed now. And I don't object to this at all.

"Actually, nothing. What about you?"

"This may sound stupid, but there's a party tonight, and I want to go. The thing is, Manny and Spinner are going together, so I don't want to act like a total third wheel and all around hag."

I frown, although she can't see it. "Em, you're not a hag-"

She interrupts me before I can finish. "I just wanted to see if you wanted to go, too. So someone can help me make fun of everyone there and how much better we are."

I throw my hands against my steering wheel in silent desperation. What am I supposed to say? Well, sorry best friend who just lost her baby, I can't hang out with you because I wanted to spend all night wallowing in self-pity. "Sure, Em. What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"Pick me up?" she asks.

"Oh, Em, that's right. I got a car."

She shrieks loud enough that I have to put the phone a few inches from my ear. I massage my ear lightly before placing the phone back in position. I only wish Ash had feigned that kind of excitement. "Sorry," Emma says, immediately going on and on about how wonderful it is that someone in 'our group,' other than Toby, has a car finally. She asks about it, but I cut her off.

"You'll just see it tonight, alright?"

She laughs her wonderfully light laugh that I haven't heard in ages. I hear a beep on my phone so I look down to see Ash's number on call waiting. I immediately forward it and get back to my call with Em. "...so I don't know what it's going to be like. I haven't talked to Jay since grade 9."

"Jay?" I ask, totally oblivious to the first part of her conversation.

She sighs, blissfully unaware of the internal struggle I just went through in the seconds she was giving her monologue about Jay. "Well I imagine we'll see him. The party is at his house."

"Oh," I answer. "Yea."

She gets bored with my disinterest in this topic. "Hey," she says after a few seconds of awkward silence. "I'll just see you when you come, alright?"

I'm pleased about getting an out to the conversation that led nowhere. "Sure. I'll be there as soon as I'm ready."

"'Kay," she says sweetly. That's the one thing about her voice: it can become, in the time span of a millisecond, coated in a saccharine tone that, surprisingly, doesn't ever sound fake as Manny's sometimes does. It never fails to produce some reaction in my body that I always try to ignore, afraid of what it means.

I hang up and quickly hit the numbers necessary to access my voice mail. I go through the same conversation I do everyday with the automated lady who tells me what buttons to push and when. Suddenly, her voice is replaced with Ashley's. It takes all my willpower not to have tears gushing from my eyes.

"Hey, I love you. I don't know what I'm going to do. I've been sitting here, on this bridge, but I'm too scared to jump. I don't think it would help, because it wouldn't take back anything I've done. And you wouldn't be able to love me where I'd be. So I'm just sitting here, hoping that some miracle will happen. But I'm not optimistic about it. About anything. I love you. Goodbye."

My bones ache for me to try to find her. They physically rebel against me as I pull down the road, back towards my house. And Emma's. Far away from anything that might save me. Or kill me, depending on what kind of drug Ash wants to be today.

"I heard about your regrets.
I heard that you were feeling sorry."

My phone begins to vibrate on my leg, and it pulls my thoughts away from the deep blue of the water long enough so that I can answer it. I don't recognize the number, which throws me into a panic, because all along I just needed it to be JT. "Hello?" I ask questionably into the phone.

"Ashley?"

"Yes, this is she," I answer, still trying desperately to place the male voice with a face and a name.

"This is Spinner."

"Hey!" I say shamming fervor. It's what you do when old friends call you. It's just necessary to some extent. "How are you?"

"Me?" he responds quietly, almost in a whisper. "I'm fine."

"That's... great." The awkwardness settles over the phone line like a blanket. "How's Manny?" I ask in a desperation to create dialogue. As soon as I speak the words, I regret it. This will lead him, eventually, to ask how JT is. And then it's just one more person who will know how badly I screwed up.

"She's great, but it seems she's found herself a little..urm, well, I guess crusade is the word I'm looking for."

I laugh politely at him. "There's a five dollar word, Spin. What's her crusade?"

"It seems she's trying to make the lives of all of Craig's ex-girlfriends hell."

I gulp audibly, memories rushing back of grade 10 and how badly Manny hurt me. "Oh..." I manage after a few minutes of silence.

"It's not what it used to be. She's not doing it for revenge or because she wants him or anything. It's just, well, she's masquerading it by saying she's doing these things to help Emma. I'm not sure if you're going to hear anything from her or not, so I thought I'd call. You know, to clear everything up."

"What exactly is she saying?"

"Craig's in New York, and he's not leading a very celibate life down there. In fact, pretty far from it. Manny told Emma, because you know, it's been so soon and Emma, I think, still loves him. She probably wouldn't have told you, and I knew this. But I wanted to call you, in case you heard it anyways. And because Craig told me something that I thought you might want to know. I didn't tell Manny yet, and I won't, if you don't want me to."

He stops and waits for my response. "Craig can do what he likes in New York, I guess. I mean, that's not a main priority of mine. I haven't been seeing him in almost three years. I feel bad for Emma, sure, but she'll tell me if she needs me. What's this news you only wanted to tell me?"

"I told him about how we think Emma still loves him, and he was quiet for a long time. Maybe even a whole minute. Then, really quiet, under his breath like, he said 'I wish it was Ash.'"

My heart stops and my hands go sweaty. Craig still loves me? Even after all of these years, all of the spent tears? Suddenly, I feel dizzy and my free hand clutches onto the ledge of the rural bridge that I've been occupying for hours now with a lack of anywhere else to go. "Are you sure, Spin?" I say faintly.

"Ash, I'd bet my life on it."

"Thank you," I mumble. I don't wait for the proper end of the conversation. I pull the phone in front of me and deliberately push the end button. I stare at my phone for a long time as if it had suddenly turned into an alien object that I didn't recognize anymore, like a dear friend who suddenly changed her style dramatically or an old pair of jeans that your mom has sewn up without your permission. Unsure of anything else, I know only one person who would sit with me on the bridge and cry with me, not needing an answer. I dial the number I know better than any other: the number of my old house.

"I heard from someone that you wished you could,
Set things right between us.
I guess I should have heard of that from you.
I guess I should have heard of that from you."

I pull at the frayed edges of my American football jersey. The team is nameless to me, probably some animal or some random word with 'er' slapped onto the back of it. My dark jeans flare at the bottom enough so that you can see a pair of scuffed boots I stole from Dylan's closet. Luckily, he won't be here to catch me. I feel haphazard in my outfit, trying too hard and at the same time, still horribly not 'getting it.'

"Jay," I hiss into his ear. "Don't you have any old tennis shoes I can change into? Dylan's boots hurt."

He rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around me tightly. "You did fine until the boots."

I punch him playfully. "Well," I answer, "I didn't think pumps would go too well with this outfit."

He pushes his lips against my temple. "You look beautiful tonight."

I hit him playfully again. "It's not nice to kid."

He pulls away from me and smiles down since his head is a few inches above mine. "I wasn't kidding, Paige. You always look beautiful."

I feel a blush form at the top of my cheekbones. "Thanks."

He shakes his head and takes another swig of beer. A girl walks up to him. She's wearing a skirt that falls about eight inches above her knees. I stare without realizing, day dreaming about what kind of trouble she'd get in if she wore it to Degrassi. Jay has a few words with her, then turns his attention back to me almost immediately. "Did you like her legs?" he asks.

"What?" I say, snapping back to reality.

"You were staring at her legs."

"I was?" the blush reappearing. "Oh, shit."

He laughs. "Too bad it's too early in our relationship to ask for a threesome."

I roll my eyes. "It will never be time to ask for that."

"You seemed pretty into it a minute ago."

"Shut up!"

He laughs and finishes off his beer. "Do you want another?" he asks, motioning to my empty bottle on the table.

I shake my head. "That's okay."

"Well, are you bored?"

I smile. "Of course not. You're here."

"Well, what if we go somewhere where it's only me there?"

My eyes light up and meet his. "Alone, is that what you're asking?"

"I've only wanted to be alone with you all night, as soon as you walked through the door. Or, rather, stomped."

I smile at him playfully. "Well," I say offering my hand, "what the hell are you waiting for?"

"So don't you see, don't you see,
That the charade is over?"

"I love you." Her words sting me like salt to an open wound.

"We've been over this."

"No," she protests. "You've been over this. Time and time again. But we haven't had any real two way discussions about it."

"I don't just throw around those words like they have no meaning."

"Well, why don't they have meaning? Why don't you love me, Craig? You sure as hell act like it. Following me everywhere I go. Threatening to beat up my brother because you think there's something going on between us. Spending every waking hour of every waking day with me, near me, talking to me, sleeping with me, or talking about me. If that's not love Craig, I'd like to know what it is."

New York has changed me, in a lot of ways, into a better, more experienced person. Unfortunately, it's done nothing for my angry temper. It's built up so that at this point, with her yelling in my face, I explode. "It's obsession, you stupid bitch. I am overly obsessed with you. I need you. I need your sex. I need someone to hang out with in this fucking elitist-ass city. I can't fall in love with you, and that means that I'm not about to. I'm also not going to leave you. So it's up to you. Now that you know everything, and how much I need you but won't love you, are you going to stay?"

Her face contorts into several different shapes as she takes in all the information. I can't read her very well, I realize, but I sit on the edge of the bed silently still trying my best. The fact that she isn't out the door and a half of a world away already is shocking. There's got to be something, something more she needs to get out of me. Her body starts towards me, slowly and unsure, but like it's being pulled by an invisible magnet. Her steps are slow and uncertain, but it's a definite that she is nearing me.

She finally kneels down in front of me, her own sacrifice to me. I lean down and kiss her, softly and breathlessly. "I can only promise you tonight," she says, and gives her body to me in sacrifice.

"And all the best deceptions,
And the clever cover story awards,
Go to you.
So kiss me hard cause this'll be the last time that I let you."

"Spin, stop for a second, I'll be right back. Okay?"

He stops chugging the beer immediately and stares at me. "Where are you going?"

"I need to go stop some huge scene from happening." I push my way past him and to the door. I watch Paige disappear up the steps behind Jay. Why me? Always me. "Sean," I say latching onto his arm to help me up the step to where he is in the foyer.

"Hey Manny," he says pulling me up safely. I'm a bit tipsy by this point, so his help is certainly welcome. "How's it going down here?"

"Pretty boring actually," I respond quick enough for the lie to bury itself. "I was thinking of leaving as soon as Spinner finishes his beer."

"Oh really?" he says looking around with a slightly confused tone. "It looks alright. I might stick around."

"No, that's not a good idea. The beer is really shitty, and all of the girls are already paired off anyways." He gives me a look that clearly points out that he was never interested in how drunk or paired off the girls were. "Right," I say getting the look. "You don't care... But it's just not cool. At all. You could come home with me and Spin and play Pictionary."

He rolls his eyes and laughs. "I think I'll stick around for awhile, thanks."

He turns around and steps down the step into the party. I stomp around on the ground, silently, in frustration. Sean Cameron should not be at this goddamn party. I smell such trouble.

I go back to Spinner's side, without taking my eye off of Sean. I don't know why I'm so worried. This isn't my party. But it still isn't fair to Paige to have her first date with Jay, which looks to be going so well, ruined by her cheating ex. Unfortunately, it seems fate wants exactly that to happen.

Spinner, being a drunken pig, spills beer all over his shirt, which I have to clean up because I'm his loving and considerate girlfriend. However, Sean chooses this exact moment to have to urinate. And because of the architecture of Jay's house, it seems the only two bathrooms are on the second floor. I give up on Spin's shirt and immediately run up the stairs after Sean.

"Sean," I say breathlessly catching his loose shirt tail. He spins around in response and looks at me quizzically.

"Hey, Manny, are you alright? You look a little nauseous."

"I am. Show me where the bathroom is."

He leads me to the open door and ushers me inside. Praising the fact that I really do feel like throwing up right now, I lean over the bowl and heave. He makes a slightly disgusted noise before taking my loose hair in his hands and holding it back.

I lean up afterwards and give him a grateful smile. He simply nods. "Well, alright, I'm going to go to the other bathroom. I'll be back after you're cleaned up."

Forgetting for a second my purpose, I turn on the water and lean over the sink so he can back out of the bathroom. The cold water splashing on my face suddenly makes me realize that the only other bathroom is attached to the master bedroom, which is most likely where Paige and Jay are.

My realization is timed perfectly with loud screams coming from the end of the hall. I sigh and begrudgingly throw myself down the hallway. I enter the bedroom where Sean has already started a scene. Paige is standing in jeans and her bra, and upon my arrival, grabs the nearest blanket to shield herself. Jay is stripped down to his boxers and is uncomfortably close to striking Sean. I step in between them, facing Sean and ushering him out the door. He yells over my shoulder, calling Paige a slut and Jay a mother fucker.

I finally push him into the hall and Jay closes the door behind me. At least I can buy them enough time to get dressed, if nothing else. I look him up and down, his anger still seeping through his pores and his eyes flashing red. I shake my head at him. "Why?" I ask slowly, deliberately.

His eyes flash over mine as if it is the stupidest question he's ever been asked. "My best friend and my girlfriend!" he says without thinking. After realizing his mistake, he lifts his hand towards the door and then lets it drop. He looks confused and shakes his head at me. "She's not my girlfriend, and he's not my best friend, not anymore." His eyes betray his sorrow and tears begin to form. "What have I done?"

He takes a few slow steps away from the door. "Let's get you home," I say rubbing his arm.

"No," he says shaking his head. "I can't go home. Not to him."

We start to descend the stairs in silence. "What if," I say, helping him with his balance, "Spinner and I come over tonight. You wouldn't have to talk to Dylan; we could keep you company."

"I don't want you guys to be uncomfortable."

"We wouldn't be. All we need is a bed, or a couch, or a floor, and some blankets. I promise."

"Alright," he says as we finally reach the landing. "But why are you doing this?"

I wave Spinner over through the mass. "Because Sean," I say turning my attention back towards him, "I know what it's like to make a mistake."

"You will be back someday,
And this awkward kiss,
that screams of other people's lips,
Will be of service,
to giving you away.
To giving you away."

I notice slightly that it's still light outside as I pour myself another shot of vodka. It doesn't burn as it slips quickly down my throat, gnawing away at my esophagus. I tilt my head back up and struggle for clear vision so I don't lose my balance, giving Kate and Jeff something to worry about upstairs.

Another drink in memory of Ashley. Another fucked up piece in the puzzle of my life, each one taking me closer to death. Every memory I attempt to wash away surges back at the most inconvenient times, like when I'm with Manny and Emma or eating a family dinner. Suddenly, her kiss is tasted on my lips or I can feel her body under mine. And that brief second changes everything. I'm reminded clearly and horribly of what I can't have, and what I'll always be comparing girls to.

The drinking makes me feel so ungrateful. I have everything I've ever truly desired, deep down. A girlfriend who totally gets me and is turning into this beautiful flowering creature. My family is acting cool about most things, and I'm entering my last year of high school. But still, I flock to this bottle like Jack Daniels is my only friend. I have three amazing friends who I really can talk to about anything. Yet I can't, somehow, talk to them about this general feeling of despair and hopelessness that I can't shake.

I put the lid back on the bottle, leaving it on the basement bar in case I get lonely later. I climb under a tattered old blanket on the couch. The United States of Leland is just starting, so I figure I might as well give it as much of my attention as I can muster. I'll fall asleep like this, alone and useless.

I glance over at my phone before resting my eyes. I figured Liberty or Emma or someone would call tonight, but they didn't. Good. I didn't have to ignore any calls. I laugh at myself, at my own stupidity. Why, Toby, if you complain about how fucking lonely you are, do something about it. It's that fucking simple, right?

As if on cue, my phone starts to vibrate in my hand. I blink twice to make sure my caller ID isn't lying. It's not, apparently. I can't believe Ashley is calling me now. It stuns me into temporary paralyzation. Her number taunts me in ways Spinner could only dream. I know answering this phone is not in my best interest, but I've never done anything remotely good for my mental health.

"I'm waiting for blood,
To flow to my fingers.
I'll be all right when my hands get warm.
Ignoring the phone,
I'd rather say nothing,
I'd rather you never heard my voice."

For some reason, Ashley's voice has the power to move mountains. More than that and more harmful I'm sure, it has the power to dissipate all the reason in my head. All logic I may have just vanishes at a mere glance or word she may offer me. It's not an excuse, but it's the only reason I can think of for driving into the middle of Bum Fuck Egypt when all I can really think about is a warm couch and some teenage angst ushering me into a dreamless sleep.

Why the hell did Ash have to fight with JT on the most windy road in Canada? I feel sick like I've been riding in the back seat to some random vacation spot my dad picked out. I feel every piece of food I ate today stir in my stomach during every turn. It's almost enough to make me stop, or slow down at least, but I comfort myself with the fact that I have a working window, and I can just roll it down if I get too nauseous.

The brights on oncoming cars blind me long after they've switched them off out of courtesy. I wish I'd had the sense to at least try to sober up before I began my drive. The guard rail is begging for a crash. I glance up at the sky at dusk. It's a great night for a crash, actually. This kind of sky would be the perfect backdrop for flashing lights, stopped cars, and the horrible sight of blood on a dashboard.

Another approaching car with the predictable on to off of bright lights quickly brings me out of my day dream. I shake my head at my idiocy and turn my radio up. Why? I know that helps if you're on the verge of sleep. I'm not. I'm actually quite awake and spastic. I just need concentration, something to help me get from point A to point B without some nasty collision. The radio, which had been gnawing through my ear drums trying to catch a bit of my attention, finally reaches it's apex of clarity. "It's over now/ If you wanna try/ Try to forget it/ I'll say/ It's over/ I'm gone."

With the most sincere of apologies and faintest of breaths clinging to my tongue, I let my fingers slide. My whole body jerks as my car meets the guard rail head on.

"You're calling too late,
Too late to be gracious.
And you do not warrant long good-byes."

The party's died down considerably. Most people have coupled up and, coincidentally, are not making any more noise. Someone called the cops so the music has been turned down to a dull roar. I push my way past three drunk kids trying to make a beer can castle. The little things that can amuse a person when they're intoxicated. I wave to Spinner again before stopping in front of JT and Emma. "I'm tired of being with people because they feel they owe me something. For once, Jesus, I just want to love someone who loves me." I hear the end of JT's comment before they realize I'm there. "Hey Manny," JT says. Emma and he share an intense look of understanding.

"I just wanted to let you guys know Spin and I are leaving. I'll call you tomorrow, Em." She flashes me a small grin. Interrupting our farewell, my phone begins to vibrate through my purse. I fetch it and look hard at the Caller ID. "Em, it's your mom."

Fear flashes over her face. "Answer it," she says. It's really the only thing I can do.

"Hello?"

"Manny, hi, this is Mrs. Simpson." The tone of her voice strikes me before her words and I can immediately tell there's something wrong. "Where are you?"

"Emma and I are at JT's."

Simple lies are almost necessary in this sort of situation. "I was going to ask to talk to Emma, but it will be just as, well, I'm going to tell you. Manny, sweetie, I'm so sorry, but I just heard. Toby was in a car crash this evening."

"What?" I say disbelievingly. Emma, noticing my own fear and hurt, stands up and links her hand in mine. "Is he okay?"

"Manny, he didn't make it."

The tears fall freely now. Emma wraps her arms around me, and JT stands up, too. "No," I manage between sobs. "Not Toby."

Emma's own eyes fill with grief and tears. "Manny, just make sure you and Emma get home as soon as possible. You can stay here tonight. It's been so long, I just want to hug you."

I nod and close my phone without saying another word. I turn to my two best friends and deliver the worst news they could hear at this point. I try to compose myself, but it's no use. "Toby died. He's dead." I collapse into the couch. JT stares at me, as shocked as I was. Emma breaks down into his chest. "Oh my God. I can't believe it."

"You're calling too late,
You're calling too late."