Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Milo

Every single day, I woke up to a world of darkness. Both figuratively and literally. Whenever I woke up, it took my eyes a second to adjust to the space around me. I had to blink away seconds of darkness before climbing out of bed. That had happened to me for as long as I could remember.

It didn’t help that I woke up before the sun was up. I’d been doing it for a year now. Before the crack of dawn, I headed out my front door and went down to the park not far from my house. Estes Park was Dad’s favorite park since he was a kid. It was where he and Mom first met. Within the park was a wooded area that led to the lakefront if you took a hidden path. Nobody really knew about it except my parents and me. Dad even bought a small bench for Mom with their initials carved into the wood that he set up there. It was Mom’s favorite place in the whole world. The three of us used to fish there for hours.

Now, only I showed up, and that winter, the lake was frozen over. I probably shouldn’t have even been out there with the freezing wind chills, but I swore I’d try to never miss a day standing in front of that lake every day, looking up at the sky.

Mom told me to find her in the sunrises, so I tried to make sure to catch every single one since she passed away, no matter the weather. Some days, the clouds blocked the sunrises, but I figured the sun was still there. I’d missed her extra that morning, and watching the sunrise didn’t seem enough for my comfort that day.

Starlet had worked as a nice distraction for a short period. She kept me from overthinking about the day right around the corner for a bit, yet once that day came, my mind couldn’t handle its pain.

It’d been a year since she’d been gone.

A year today.

Happy Death Day, Mother. Screw you for leaving me here on this planet.

Also, I miss you so much it’s hard to breathe.

I watched the sunrise, feeling empty inside, then I headed home and got ready for school.

Weston’s and my weekly meeting was the last place I wanted to find myself that Monday morning. The carpet was ripped out of his office, exposing an ugly hardwood floor that looked like shit. Weston told me his office renovations were in the in-between stages, stating that the new flooring wouldn’t be in until the following week.

The floors looked like how I felt—like shit.

Weston sipped his coffee as he eyed me up and down. Truth be told, I didn’t even know how I’d managed to make it into his office that morning. I hadn’t slept all weekend. Mainly because whenever I shut my eyes, I’d be haunted by the memories of my past. And when that wasn’t happening, I was haunted by the situation of my present day.

“Are you high right now?” Weston asked.

I glanced up from my chair and arched an eyebrow. “Who’s asking? Weston or the principal?”

“Both,” Weston stated, setting his coffee mug back down on the table.

“Well, I think you know the answer, seeing as how you’re asking.”

“It’s seven in the morning, Milo.”

“It’s called wake and bake,” I replied.

Weston shouldn’t have been surprised. It was a crap weekend. Dad went on a drinking binge and decided to take it out on me when he came home smelling like a piss-covered sailor. Spending my weekend dealing with a drunk, grieving man who I had to force into the shower and feed wasn’t my idea of fun. On top of me taking care of him, I had to deal with hearing how much of a disappointment I’d been. Then that morning marked a year since Mom’s passing. So forgive me if I got high before school to try to deal with the shit going on in my head.

Weston frowned. I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed in me or sad for me.

Maybe a mixture of both.

“You should’ve taken today off,” he told me.

“You said I couldn’t get the letter unless I attended my classes. So I’m here.”

“You’re here, but you’re not.”

I’m here, but I’m not.

He shifted in his chair. “Do you want to talk about her today? Maybe that will—”

“No.” I cut in. There were a million things I wanted to do that day. I wanted to get high. I wanted to get drunk. I wanted to do anything possible to make me forget that today was a year since the worst day of my life. I wanted to feel less and disappear more. I wanted the hurting to stop and for me to feel like there was some chance that one day I’d be okay. I wanted to breathe again. I wished so damn much that I could breathe. But I couldn’t. I chose not to, at least. It felt selfish of me to breathe when Mom couldn’t do so any longer.

Grief was a complex creature. One day, you were sad, and the next day filled you with rage. On rare occasions, you’d be both. So aggressively angry, so depressingly sad.

“You should’ve known I would’ve been fine if you took today off,” Weston mentioned. “Today, of all days, would’ve been okay.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve mentioned that before you held that letter over my head.”

“Milo.”

“What?”

His mouth parted as the bell rang for the first period of the day. No more words came out of him, so I reached down and grabbed my backpack from beside my chair. “Can’t be late to class, Principal Gallo,” I muttered as I pushed myself up from the chair.

He called after me, but I didn’t turn back to face him. I didn’t feel like talking anymore. I didn’t feel like staring into the eyes that looked like hers.

I headed into the busy hallways, moving through my quicksand, and went straight to Tom’s locker.

He looked my way. “Who hit you with a bus?”

“I need pills,” I said, cutting straight to the point. I didn’t do small talk, and I was still feeling a bit too much for the day that was approaching. I knew I’d feel worse as the hours crept closer to three in the afternoon, the time when Mom took her final breath. I needed not to be functioning at that point. I needed to stretch out my high as long as I could.

“Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine,” he mocked.

“Seriously, Tom. What do you have?”

“You start your period today or something? Snappy, snappy.”

I stayed quiet.

He arched an eyebrow and grew a bit somber. “Shit morning?”

“Something like that.”

For a split second, his eyes found a dash of pity for me. He quickly shook it away because he knew I wouldn’t appreciate that. He reached into his backpack, pulled out a mint tin, opened it, and grabbed a pill for me. “This should make you feel…well…good. You’ll feel good.”

Perfect. “Give me a few more.”

“Dude, I don’t know if—”

“I’ll pay you.”

“You know it’s not about the money.”

“Tom. Please,” I choked out. I wasn’t one to beg for anything in life, but at that moment, I felt the need to.

That must’ve tripped him up. Without question, he handed me a few more pills. He then placed a hand against my shoulder. “Hey, man. I know we don’t do that heart-to-heart stuff, but if you ever need to talk—”

“I don’t.” I tossed one pill into my mouth and slid the others into my pocket to space out throughout the day.

“Noted.” He pulled his hand back and shut his locker. “With that said, have a nice trip.”

See you next fall.

***

Good.

I felt good.

Great even. Shit, I felt great.

The quicksand of my movements had transitioned over the past few hours, and now I was floating through the hallways. Everything was heightened, all of my senses. My fingers stretched out, and I stared at the space between them. I could feel it. I could feel the air.

Holy shit, I was gone.

“Are you all right?” a voice said, breaking my stare away from my fingers. I turned to find Starlet standing in front of me with concerned eyes.

Wow.

She had beautiful eyes.

“You have beautiful eyes,” I told her.

She glanced around the hallways and took a step away from me. “Never say that again, Milo,” she warned, her voice low. “The bell rang. You should be in class.”

I laughed.

Because things were funny. Everything was funny—Starlet, school, life, death.

She didn’t see the humor in it, though. Maybe I was meant to show her the comedy in life.

I’d reached into my pocket and pulled out a pill. I held it in her direction. “Here, take this. It will make you laugh, Teach.”

“Oh my gosh,” she whisper-shouted, stepping toward me. “Are those drugs?”

“Well, it’s not a spearmint.”

“Put that away and get to class,” she ordered.

The hallways were pretty empty, probably because she was right. I was supposed to be in a class like everyone else in the school. What class, though? What hour was it? Shit. The letter. I needed to get the letter.

“I gotta get to class for the letter,” I muttered. My head felt a bit fuzzy, and my stomach flipped a few times. I went to pop the pill into my mouth, and Starlet hit it out of my hand.

“Milo, what the heck are you doing? You can’t just pop pills in school,” Starlet scolded. She was sounding more and more like a teacher. Bummer.

“You didn’t want it.”

“That’s because I don’t do drugs.”

“But life would be so much better if you did, Teach.” I stumbled a bit, and she caught me. Her eyes locked with mine, and I released a sigh. “You have beautiful eyes,” I repeated.

“Milo. Stop it.”

“I’m not feeling great, Teach.”

“Yeah. That’s clear.”

“I can’t fail. I can’t. I need that letter. I need it.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, confused. She wouldn’t understand. No one would understand. She glanced around the hallway, then sighed. “Come on. We gotta get you sobered up.” She began pulling me down the hallway and around a corner. We went down a flight of stairs, and she opened a janitor’s closet. She pulled me inside and shut the door behind us.

“Sit,” she ordered, pushing me to the floor. Next, she blocked the door with a broomstick so no one could get inside.

“Are we going to get naked now?” I murmured. Shit, I was messed up.

“What? No. Gosh, you’re messed up,” she muttered as she went digging through her briefcase. She pulled out a water bottle and held it out toward me.

I shoved it away. “No.”

“You need to sober up, Milo.”

“No. My father needs to sober up, not me. I’m fine. I’m good. I’m happy,” I blubbered out, waving my hand in her direction. “I’m okay.”

I looked up at her and saw the sad expression in her eyes.

“You have beautiful eyes,” I repeated.

Her frown deepened. “You’re going to be okay, Milo.”

“I told you, I’m okay,” I murmured, slouching over against a mop bucket.

She moved over to me, placed her hand under my chin, and held the water bottle to my lips. I could hardly open my eyes. Everything felt heavy and light all at the same time. Every movement felt like a chore. Through my hooded stare, I still saw her eyes. Those fucking eyes.

“Sip,” she ordered.

“No,” I said, pushing the bottle away.

“Sip,” she repeated.

“I hate you,” I grumbled, not wanting to drink.

“Good,” she replied. “That means you still know how to feel. Now, sip.”

Sip, I did.

“You’re going to be okay, Milo,” she said once more, and for some reason, that made my chest tighten even more.

“She’s gone,” I whispered, feeling myself seconds away from spiraling. “She’s really gone,” I blurted out before curling into a ball and losing myself. Starlet didn’t say another word. She placed a comforting hand on my back and rubbed it in a circular motion. Every now and again, she’d make me sip the water. At one point, I fell asleep. Or I passed out. It was hard to say. All I knew was that Starlet’s hand was still resting against my back when I came to.

Her words echoed like a lie in my head.

You’re going to be okay, Milo.

You’re going to be okay, Milo…

How?

How would this…how would I ever be okay again?