It wasn't the soft glow of the Thursday night sky that shone on Lori Loud through her bedroom window. Instead, as she curled up in her blanket, her face was illuminated by the faint, blue light of her cellphone—though, it wasn't pleasure that inspired her to look upon the screen.
The evening stood out from among the others of recent memory. Though her foggy brain and tired body were still demanding sleep, the lull of rest (that would most likely end up being unsatisfying, anyway) didn't overtake her when it usually did. Tonight, her mind had allowed her to stay conscious past seven o'clock for once, leaving her free to do just about anything for a good little while…
If she cared to do anything but lie in bed, as still as her quiet breath. The Loud house provided a litany of options for anyone to engage in when spare time was available, leaving no one with an excuse to do nothing if that was what they truly desired. And that was exactly what she wanted, or at least naturally leaned towards without the hope of anything drawing her away from her crushing apathy.
And that's when she heard her phone pinging, the telltale sound of a text coming through. She felt that could bother to see what it was about, though mild curiosity was what carried her forward. Lately, she barely touched her phone, no longer using it recreationally. That didn't mean that she was going to leave it unattended, though; besides, a passing glance over one measly text couldn't hurt.
Wrong.
"thnkin abut u babe xoxo :)"
Lori felt her throat tighten and the back of her eyes sting. "Why?" she whispered, her voice tinged with hoarseness.
As if she needed to ask.
'You know damn well why. You don't have the guts to break it off with him. You keep him wrapped around your little finger because you're too selfish to do the right thing.'
And she couldn't argue with that, no matter how much a tiny part of her wanted to deny that she was, once again, living it up at the expense of others. Poor Bobby had been tied down to her through her lies of omission; if he knew what kind of monster she truly was, he would've dumped her a long time ago. But she couldn't have that, could she? Her self-serving self couldn't let her precious "Bobby Boo-Boo Bear" leave her, not when she knew, with all her heart and soul, that he was "the one."
Regarding anyone, no matter how good of a person they were, as "the one" was a laughable concept for most, but Lori couldn't see it any other way. Outwardly, she used to purport the idea that her looks and charm could snag just about any guy she wanted. But she knew better than to actually believe that; makeup could only do so much across an ugly canvas.
Then, Bobby flipped her world upside down. She had the gall, the absolute nerve, to regard his first approach as "stalker-ish" and creepy out loud, just to save face; sure, most girls could afford to think such things about a guy who broke into their locker to stuff brownies in it, but Lori had no reason to deny that such a sweet guy like Bobby expressing love to her, no matter how he chose to do so, was one of the best things to ever happen to her.
He had to be "the one"; she couldn't see anyone else being smitten by such a wicked, depraved creature of no value.
But despite knowing that he could do better, that she could've done him a kindness by turning him down and pointing him in the direction of someone who deserved his attention, Lori latched onto him like a leech, always taking but never giving back. She could've been inspired to turn around, to at least attempt to be the kind of woman that the noble, generous, thoughtful, wonderful Bobby Santiago deserved, but why would she do that when she could have her cake and eat it too, to destroy the lives of her loved ones while he lavished her, treated her like a princess?
And what made it worse was that she had the unabashed audacity to act as if his life needed to revolve around hers, just because she couldn't fathom the idea of being without him. His new life in Chicago should've been a breath of fresh air, the chance for him to move away from the biggest mistake he had made in his life by, perhaps, settling down with someone else. She could've co-signed the idea, even presented it to him when she dragged poor Lincoln over there to give him a piece of her mind.
But no, she had to weigh him down and muddy up his new future by oh-so "reluctantly" agreeing to follow him to college, trailing behind him like a puppy. And of course, that meant that her parents would have to fork over a boatload of money to support a venture that wouldn't pay dividends, just so she could have some emotional stability.
'You truly are disgusting, you know that? How many people do you have to screw over before you're satisfied?'
Not enough, it seemed, since all she could muster the courage to do was ward him off with texts, using the same excuses that she used to keep Leni away. But unlike with Leni, instead of wanting her at an arm's length to keep her from being weighed down by her problems, she couldn't say that was the same for Bobby. With Bobby, even if her love for him was submerged under gallons of murky, black insensitivity, there was still a spark of longing…emotion…feeling. Beyond simply wanting to keep the man of her dreams by her side, she couldn't bear the thought of severing away the only thing that made her feel alive, as if she wasn't just fumbling about aimlessly as life slipped by her.
But that wouldn't be fair. She knew what she had to do. She had the power to tell him the truth about her and set him free, free to live a life away from such a festering, worthless cancer like her. It was so simple to do and yet…and yet…
Lori sighed, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay as she slipped her phone under her pillow. She'd be going to bed a selfish coward.
Again.
THE NEXT DAY…
Sluggish and all, she was still receptive to anxiety; Lori knew that well enough, but this was far different from dreading her family figuring out her state of mind and body. She and Mr. Lewis, her history teacher, were always on amicable terms with each other, but she knew what to expect after after he pulled her off to the side before class could start, and she could take her seat—in short, it couldn't be good.
"Don't go to lunch after the bell rings," he had told her. "We need to talk."
His tone left no room for her to speculate that, perhaps, his stern tone and measured scowl meant that he had good news for her. But Lori knew better to assume that, especially when she had a pretty good inkling as to what this was all about, anyway.
Lori obeyed and stayed behind after the bell rang, watching as her classmates excitedly shuffled out of the classroom while they chattered excitedly to one another. Her eyes listlessly scanned their happy faces as they departed, envy throttling her as heart ached and longed for the happiness that had long since vanished from her life entirely.
She groaned, gripping her fingers around her temples—it was all she could do to brace herself against the burning flash of shame that engulfed her from the sickening realization that she was, once again, putting her well-being in the limelight.
'When are you going to get tired of being so selfish?'
But no sooner had her mind trapped her in miserable contemplation than Mr. Lewis approached her, his withered, wrinkled hand lightly slapping onto her desk—the noise jolted her focus away, and she instantly looked up and locked onto his pale, gray eyes.
"Do you know why I had you stay behind, Lori?" Mr. Lewis asked, asking without leaving the impression that Lori didn't know.
And though his intuition was faultless, he found his student giving him a terse reply that contradicted the nervousness brimming in her eyes and the anxious gaze affixed on her hands as her palms played downward on the desk.
"No, sir," Lori said.
Mr. Lewis frowned. "Well then, allow me to fill you in…"
In a motion swift enough to belie his age, the elderly teacher pulled out a roll of papers from his pocket and lined the sheets on Lori's desk, side-by-side. The swarm of butterflies in Lori's gut traveled to her heart, making it ache and thump brutally against her bones.
"Recognize these?" Mr. Lewis asked.
She most certainly did, but she recognized an imminent terror even worse than an irate teacher wanting to know why she had been neglecting her homework assignments; surely, he would notify her parents about her negligence, and they would demand that she explain herself.
But even with the dizzying thought of such a confrontation pounding in her head, she still had enough wherewithal to spare a feeble nod.
"Then you should know why I'm not very happy with you," Mr. Lewis said. "Lori, you've missed out on five homework assignments in a row." He used both hands to hold up five fingers for emphasis. "Five. That shouldn't be happening with someone like you."
He pulled his hands back as his arms folded across his chest. Lori's active, wringing hands sat in place as they clawed into jittery fists, her fingers as clenched as her teeth—it was all she could do to keep herself from mewling pathetically at being cornered like this.
"And what's more, I've recently caught you dozing off in class several times," her teacher continued, his disclosure churning bile fit to lurch out her throat in a violent stream, "even as early as when the class begins. You're usually far more attentive than that."
But even as his face softened in concern, her agony remained. All she could do was meditate on lies that she could employ to keep his inevitable pressing of the matter from sapping away what was left of her ebbing resolve.
"Can you see why I'm so concerned now?" Mr. Lewis asked as he took the papers back. "You're one of my brightest students, Lori; again, this level of irresponsibility isn't like you. If there's something going on at home or any other personal issue you need to get straightened out, I can always help you, and there are other teachers and guidance councilors that'll do the same for you. Whatever's bothering you, it's best to get the problem solved before your grades slip away from you completely."
Amid her plotting, she grimaced at such a foolish proposition. Councilors and teachers guided and fostered futures, not hopeless cases like little 'ol her. And what would come if she told them everything, every sordid detail about how she held others down to make her blight worthlessness manageable? Surely, they'd cast her out and decry her as a stain against the school, her community, and society as a whole; who else but a pitiful brute deserved to bear such a dishonor?
"So, is there anything you want to tell me? Anything that you need me to do for you at all?" she heard her teacher ask.
Lori shook her head, her "truth" already prepared. "No, Mr. Lewis," she said, bowing her head. "I'm…just being complacent. I'm sorry."
She couldn't see how he took her so-called admittance, but his answer placated her curiosity.
"Well, if that's really the case, I'd advise against continuing down the path you're going on" he replied sternly. "Even with all the damage your lack of diligence has done to your grade, you can still finish off the school year strong if your turn your attitude around. This is your final year of high school, Lori. I trust you want to end on a high note?"
"Yes, sir," Lori said, her practiced, shamed tone bolstering her act.
After that, she was excused without another word. Her freedom was spent in her dreary corner until lunch was over.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON…
Desperate times called for desperate measures as far as Leni was concerned.
This might've been a tad extreme, given how she was hinging her present actions off a strong hunch rather than anything objectively solid, but she couldn't buck off the feeling that despite her insistence, Lori wasn't being honest with her.
With her back against the wall, the only option Leni felt she had was getting her parents involved.
It had been a few days since Leni had confronted her sister about her feelings, and she could only pretend to be content with her assurance for so long. She no longer pressed her, opting to watch her from afar and pick up on any alarming shifts, any discrepancies that could only spell disaster and a need for a direct intervention.
But Lori, if she truly was being aloofly discrete on purpose, was a tough nut to crack. Yes, she was still keeping her distance from her friends and studying (if Leni could trust that assertion) more rigorously than ever, but even if it meant that she wasn't socializing to her as much as she used to, Lori still seemed capable of functioning normally.
At least, she did for the most part. Just what was it about Lori that put Leni on edge? Her distant stares? Her persistent retreats into solitude? Those times, at night, that she could've sworn she heard her sister's muffled sobbing from underneath her blanket as they laid in bed? Whatever it was, she couldn't take the acquiescent road any longer, not when her worried mind refused to be put to rest—if she were in her shoes, Lori would've done put her foot down ages ago and it was high time she did the same.
Once Mom and Dad came back from work, Leni was on the move, walking towards their bedroom with only a meager portion of apprehension weighing her down. She was a little worried that her worries were all for nothing and everything about her plan would only get Lori more attention than she was comfortable with, but she didn't allow that possibility to halt her steps.
In no time flat, her parent's bedroom stood before her. Her fist lifted to the door, ready to knock.
Last chance to back out.
Last chance to give Lori her space.
Last chance to possibly leave her sister in the dark.
Leni's brow arched downward as she squared her shoulders. 'Not a chance.'
"Mom? Dad?" Leni called as she gave the door a few light knocks.
She was met with silence, an oddity that only inspired her to try again.
"Moooom? Daaaaad?" Leni called again, this time putting more vigor behind her knocks.
This proved to be effective as, instead of silence, she heard nervous…giggling? She couldn't ponder that peculiarity for long as she was snapped out of her thoughts by her mother's voice.
"Uh, j-just a second, Leni!" Mom said, sounding surprisingly out of breath for such a short walk to her door.
"We'll be right out!" Dad added as breathlessly and hastily as his wife.
Leni shrugged. She supposed it wasn't their fault they got winded so easily; she wouldn't say it out loud, but they were getting up in age.
Knocking was the easy part. Finding the right words while her parents waited for her to speak? That was going to be tricky.
After inviting her inside and taking a seat on their bed, Mom and Dad turned from warm, caring caretakers into a somewhat intimidating pair of obstacles. The ball was on Leni's court now, and it was up to her to get her urgency across without making it seem as if they needed to directly intervene and possibly intrude in her sister's business—after all, she was doing this based on a hunch, and all she really needed were trustworthy confidants, anyway.
"What'd you need, kiddo?" Dad finally asked, breaking the awkward tension that kept Leni's mouth shut.
Leni swallowed and rubbed her elbow, the beginning of her response slipping past her lips. "It's…it's about Lori."
From the look on her face, Mom looked like she was picking up on her daughter's anxious vibes. "What about her, sweetie?" she asked, gazing at her with attentive eyes.
"It's just…I mean, I…um…"
Leni bit down on her lower lip and looked down at the floor, quickly losing steam in her ability to not cause panic.
And then, in a flash, the memory of Lori's words—her hollow-sounding assurance that she was fine and that there was nothing to worry about—lodged into her brain like a spear. The sharp blow reshaped her focus and unnerved her; if this was truly a false alarm, and she only made things worse by being a silly worrywart, then she'd simply have to ask everyone involved for their forgiveness.
She looked back at her mother. "I think something's wrong with her," Leni said without a hint of uneasiness in her voice.
It was Dad's turn to regard the situation with concern on his face. "What'd you mean by that?" he asked.
Leni sighed and turned to her father. "I…don't really know," she admitted, "but it's almost like she's a whole different person. She never wants to hang out with me anymore; we haven't done anything together in weeks. And a few days ago, I found out that she's been avoiding all her friends at school."
And just like that, silence reigned again as Mom and Dad were left to wonder contemplate what Leni had just said. She was grateful that that was all they were doing, and she supposed that she owed it to her omission—had she included the morning where Lori had lashed out at her, she would've heard an earful from Mom and Dad and if Lori really was in trouble, Leni couldn't imagine that she needed her parents chastising her.
"Well," Dad finally asked, "have you talked to Lori about why she doesn't want to spend time with you anymore?"
Leni nodded. "Well, yeah," she said. "She says that she needs to study or catch up with some sleep, but, like, she always needs to sleep or study."
Leni felt her throat swell and her eyes water. "I wanna believe her, I-I really do, but a part of me thinks that she's trying to shut me out from...something."
Even though she wanted to stay level-headed, it took nothing short of the thought of Lori, wallowing in the bleak depths of some mysterious, personal crisis to cause tears to trickle out of her eyes, little pearls of clear blue rolling down her cheeks before they blotted the carpet below.
Mom was quick to stand on her feet and embrace her daughter in a tight hug, cradling her head with one hand and stroking her head with another.
"Shhhh, it's okay, Leni," she whispered. "It's okay."
It took Leni about a minute before her tears were spent and she was ready to talk again. Regardless, Mom didn't let go. Meanwhile, Dad joined her side and put a hand on her shoulder. Leni brushed away her tears and gazed at her father, unsure of what he was going to do in response to her emotional outburst.
"Look, Leni," Dad said, giving Leni a smile, "I know that it looks like Lori doesn't want to hang out with you out of spite, but I think you should respect that she's trying to make mature decisions. Would Lori 'always' need to rest or study if she didn't think it was worth it? Or would she stop hanging around friends if she thought they were worth her time?"
As much as that made sense to Leni, she still couldn't help but grimace at the implication that her father presented. After all, she was Lori's friend, too, wasn't she? Did that mean that she wasn't worth Lori's time?
But of course, she thought better. After all, it was still crystal clear that Lori still cared about her; she wouldn't have apologized to her for yelling if she didn't.
"I…guess not," Leni said, decided not to bring that point up, as if Dad meant to offend her.
Mom backed away a bit, but she still held close as she cupped her hand over one of Leni-s tear-stained cheeks.
"Good," Mom said. "I agree with your father, and I'm happy to see that you're thinking positively. I understand that you might feel a little worried about your sister, but I really think she's just trying to get the best grades that she can, and she doesn't want to be weighed down by distractions."
Mom's eyes widened as she immediately recollected her last words.
"N-not to say that you're a distraction or anything!" Mom said, grinning sheepishly. "It's just that-"
Leni laughed as she held a hand up, the gesture getting her mother to stop babbling apologetically.
"It's okay. I understand," she said before she hugged both her parents. "Thanks, Mom and Dad."
Her gratefulness was genuine; she really need this, a new perspective that brought her better clarity. It wasn't as if she wouldn't worry about Lori, but instead of deciding that there was something she was keeping from her, all she could do was hope that Lori wouldn't push herself too hard—she was amazing, but even her big sister had limits.
Before she could pull away to leave, though, Dad stopped her.
"Leni?" he asked.
He spoke again once he saw that his daughter was giving him her attention.
"Your mother and I have an announcement for the whole family at dinner," he said, an eager grin plastered on his face. "I'm sure you and Lori will both love it, and I'm also sure you that won't have to worry about getting to spend time with her anymore."
And with that, Leni departed with not just solace to keep her tense mind at ease, but a firm belief that she and Lori would get a chance to make up for lost time.
And after everything she had been dreading lately, she couldn't have asked for more than that.
Usually, the intermittent food fight or gossip took center stage at dinnertime, but Lisa Loud took it upon herself to make sure that wouldn't be happening tonight. Before Rita and Lynn Sr. could disclose their special announcement, their genius daughter had requested that she have the floor to disclose a "scientific breakthrough" that she discovered after supposedly researching about the dietary health benefits of eating copious amounts of ice cream.
And so, with her pointer stick scanning across her formulas and equations—sketched across her chalkboard—Lisa stood in front of the dining room's archway as she finished up the last bit of her presentation, declaring, with as much authority in her voice as she could, "…and that, parental units, is why it is imperative that we be served at least two bowls of ice cream after every meal."
As Lisa took a bow, Lucy, Lana, Lola, and Lily gave thunderous applauses, their juvenile sensibilities excited at the prospect of eating ice cream every day. Unfortunately for Lisa, her parents weren't so impressed. Sporting a cocky smirk and a raised eyebrow, Rita wagged her finger at her daughter's efforts.
"Nice try, Lisa," she said, her knowing tone immediately silencing the applause and Lisa's belief in her triumph. "I took a nutrition course in college; I know for a fact that ice cream raises LDL cholesterol, not HDL cholesterol. Better luck next time."
Lisa scowled. "Dang it," she mumbled, tossing her pointer stick away before she scrambled over to her seat and plopped onto it, folding her arms and puffing out her cheeks.
Lola, who was sitting next to her, offered her sister no consolation.
"See, this why I said you should've done a PowerPoint presentation," she said, getting an eye-roll for her troubles.
Rita chuckled, standing up from her chair. "Now then, are we done trying to get one over on Mama Loud?"
Lisa squinted angrily and grit her teeth. "Yes," she said, then added in a dark whisper, "For now."
"Excellent," Rita said, then looked to her husband as he stood up as well. "I guess that means we can tell everyone the good news."
At the "mention" of good news, Luan was quick to give her thoughts, though her mischievously hammy smile suggested that she was looking forward to knocking everyone's socks off with a joke.
"Wait, we're not about to have another sibling on the way, are we?" Luan asked, her jest earning an uproar of laughter from a few of her siblings, though they found Rita's shell-shocked expression to be funnier.
"Very funny, Luan," Lynn Sr. said with a chuckle. "No, your mother's not expecting. The news has to deal with what we're all doing next week."
It took a few seconds for Rita to compose herself, but she was ready to bounce off her husband's statement.
"Lynn and I talked to our respective bosses," she said as she walked over to Lynn Sr. and threw an arm around his shoulder, "and they agreed to give us the days between next Friday and the Friday after that off."
Lynn Sr.'s grin grew even wider before he added, "With pay,"
"And as you all should be aware of," Rita added, "that's the exact time frame of Spring break for you kids."
Both Rita and Lynn Sr. looked like they were ready to burst from excitement at this point, their smiles and squirrely bodies promising a proclamation for the ages.
"Meaning," the couple said in unison, "that starting next Friday, the Louds are gonna be livin' it up in Grand Rapids for Spring break!"
They didn't have time to cover their ears before the deafening chorus of excited cheers pelted them, but their grins remained, nonetheless. As parents, nothing made them prouder than knowing that they could provide for their children and make their lives that much better with the opportunity to gain new happy memories.
Both Rita and Lynn Sr. gave their attention to the farthest end of the dinner table, where their eldest children sat. Their hearts were one as joy pumped through their veins—a once downtrodden Leni was looking at her older sister with delight in her grin and hope brimming in her eyes where bitter tears once resided.
As for Lori, though her gaze was on her plate, her modest yet festive smile was enough assurance for them to not assume the worst—admittedly, Leni had given the both a bit of a scare earlier but seeing Lori capable of receiving such good news in stride, like they'd expect a normal, healthy child to do, satisfied their concerns.
Now, all that was left to do was start packing; in a family as big as theirs, getting it started a week in advance was paramount.
That's it. Just keep up appearances. Smile, ward them off from the cavernous gash in your soul as you bleed dry. Keep it in. Keep everything to yourself.
What else could Lori do? Explain why she couldn't muster genuine elation at her parent's news? No, that'd only make them worry, and who was she to do that to them, especially now that there was something for everyone to look forward to in a week?
The joy of those perfect little angels wasn't a remedy to her misery, but it'd at least remind her that she had something to fight for, something to preserve by secluding herself underneath excuses and lies.
But…there was something else, someone else. Sure, she had her wonderful family to protect, but what good was her vigilance when three hours away, the man she loved suffered because of her selfishness? Bobby was a treasure, and she had more time with him than someone like her deserved to have. It wasn't enough to feel pain for his bad circumstances, as if that was enough to justify her cowardice.
The call to action had governed most of her thoughts all day, the consequences of such a call boring her sanity with twinges of self-doubt, all bred from the pathetic excuse that she'd be hurting Bobby.
'Here you are about to have a Spring break of a lifetime while Bobby's out there, working his butt off and being a better older sibling than you've ever been or will ever be. Is that what you call fair?'
Her fake smile vanished, the burden weighed down by shame and disgust.
'And you had the gall to think that setting him free would hurt him. I'm surprised you can even sleep at night, let alone look at yourself in the mirror.'
Before she knew it, her mouth was open as she looked up at her beaming parents. "May I be excused?" she asked, her voice directing all eyes on her as the cheering came to a halt. "I just remembered that I need to finish up some homework."
Mom gave her a peculiar look, glancing down at her daughter's plate. "I guess you can go but are you sure you can't do it later?" she asked. "You hardly touched your food."
Lori shrugged. "I'll eat it later," she said, flashing a weak grin to mollify any possible suspicion.
Without waiting for a proper reply, Lori sauntered away, her steps slowed and fatigued but her attentiveness as sharp as ever—she saw that way Leni looked at her, uncertain and uneasy, before she sat up and made sure to give her a quick little hug on her way out.
Only time would tell if it worked, but all Lori could dwell on was how that hug, just like the one from days before, was dead and cold against her skin.
'Well, why aren't you doing it already? End his misery. NOW.'
Even in the darkness of her unlit bedroom, she had enough visibility to peer into the blank screen of her phone and perceive the forlorn that was carved in her face.
It had been two minutes since Lori slunk into her room—two minutes and yet she dared to be bound by indecision. It shouldn't matter that her limbs were paralyzed, unable to carry out her sworn duty as someone who was supposed to, at the very least, keep her loved ones from enduring her existence—she gave up the idea that she could be better than a monster, but that didn't mean her world had to burn because she got cold feet at the last second.
Finally, the numb fingers of her right hand uncurled from her phone, and she whimpered softly as she looked away. Memory guided her motions as the phone was turned on and Bobby's number was quickly punched in (slowed, delayed movements would've only inspired her horrid baser instincts to pull back "before it was too late).
Her whimpering grew louder, though it was quickly drowned out by the phone humming in her ear. She knew she'd have to brace herself soon but keeping her emotions in check was easier thought than done.
But she'd have to do it soon. It was only a matter of time before Bobby picked up, and she'd have no choice but to—
"The number you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you have finished recording, you may hang up or press 1 for more options."
The breath in Lori's chest hardly expelled, and it swelled painfully against her heart as she heard the *beep*—for just a brief second, she allowed her foolishness to make her believe that she was out of the woods, that Bobby now answering would mean that she wouldn't have to answer for herself.
She sighed. She wasn't just harpy, she was a stupid harpy. Knowing full well that Bobby didn't deserve to be attached to such a grisly, pathetic image forced her speech, though it began in an awkward stutter.
"H-hey, Bobby. It's…" She groaned at the lump in her throat that bulged in her throat. "…it's, uh, Lori…um, speaking. I, uh, j-just wanted to call you and…"
That vexing lump tightened as she swallowed, and Lori was almost certain that swallowing harder would force it down her windpipe and make her choke—the feeling of nauseous suffocation was already sprouting in the pit of her stomach, and it made her legs quiver.
"This…what we have…" She shut her eyes, as if doing so could keep him from seeing the glistening moistness budding against her pupils. "…it's just not gonna work out, okay I'm sorry, Bobby, but…we have to move on from each other. I know you'll probably be confused, sad, hurt, and maybe even angry when you hear me say this, but I need you to understand that this is for the best."
And then, surprisingly, as if she were just finished enduring the worst of flu shot, her agony had subsided by this point, enough for her to continue without any hinderance. Her voice wasn't even broken anymore, and her view of her stability was no longer jarred with visions of disaster from seeing this through.
Instead, everything about this situation was just like that hug with Leni; her body felt cold and dead, almost cooled with a chill that numbed her brain and swallowed her up in a rush of apathy. It was all too familiar, enough for it to not even register in her mind as something significant—living in this thick, deafening haze was second nature, and not even the thought of being without Bobby Santiago could wake her up.
"Please…don't try to text me or call me back, looking for an explanation," she said, her tone almost bored. "Just trust me; let's just say you're way better off this way. I'm not the person you think I am, and I'm not fit to be around you anymore. I never was."
She capped off her last goodbyes while she wiped her eyes, the evidence of her former worries brushed aside along with them.
"So…that's it. Goodbye. Thank you for everything."
She immediately regretted those last four words, but only had the prudence to do so after she hung up. She just had to sneak that list bit in there, didn't she?
'Oh yes, thank you Bobby for being available for my ego, for my sense of self-worth as I calmly tear down everything that gets in my way. Thank you for allowing me to deprive your sister of your time, time that you could've spent caring and bonding with her. Thank you for helping me to pretend that I could stand proud on my own merits as someone who was worthy of love and the promise that I could be cherished.'
She shook her head; she really was repulsive.