Page 9 of Saving Barrette
Why does everything burn?
Why is my skin on fire?
I try to blink, focus enough to move away from them, but I can’t.
Sharpness hits my side, and it hurts. Worse than between my legs. I scream, my plea muffled by his hand. I bite, anything to protect myself. Something hits my face and I fade, the pain too much to endure.
I fight to hold on, I do, but the pressure in my head is too much. It’s too late. I can’t take the pain. I count seconds, and then minutes, and then I forget. The thoughts, they’re gone. I leave my body and inhabit the air and the silence in my mind as I stare at the tops of the trees. They’re black and I can’t make out any shape as the rain hits my face, but it’s better than the alternative.
Three hours. That’s how long I wait. I tell myself, forget it.
Look at me, the one so out of control he can’t even stand without moving. I’m clearly not listening because I can’t forget her, not ever.
Pain shoots through my jaw from clenching and unclenching it. Drawing in a painful breath, I struggle through emotions I don’t understand. This girl, since the day I met her, she’s been the one I live and breathe for. One might wonder why I left her then and never called. Even I don’t understand why, but I know one thing for sure. That guy, the one obsessing over every single thought and her reaction to him, he shouldn’t have left her again.
Listen to my heart, the beating, the shaking of my hands and that tightness in my chest. Do you remember the look on her face? You know what’s coming, don’t you? Do you feel it too? Something isn’t right.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” I tell myself, running my hands through my hair.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve calculated my responses. I’ve never let my emotions get the better of my reactions. Emotion, fear, anger, happiness, it all starts out the same way. A jolt. And then the reaction. For someone like me, I control them to the point of obsession. I’m careful. Cautious. Maybe that’s why I was the starting quarterback all four years at Massillon High School.
Or maybe… I was just in the right place at the right time.
Do you see me pacing the parking lot of Safeway in Olympia? I drive all the way to Olympia thinking it will clear my head enough to make a rational decision about anything, but it doesn’t. I’m left with one final thought: I shouldn’t have left her.
Breathing in deeply, I attempt to clear my thoughts, but nothing makes any sense. I straighten my body and look at my cell phone. Leaning into the side of the car, I stare up at the black sky, and then back at my phone. I don’t have her number.
“Fuck this,” I mumble, sliding into the seat and starting my car.
My mind races through thoughts about what I’m going to say to her. That I’m sorry and I shouldn’t have left her, or that I should have called. Knowing Barrette, headstrong, and determined to be her own person, she won’t forgive me easily, but I have to try. At least then I’ll know I did what I needed to do, and I can leave for college in August with a clear conscience and not worry about her. But then again, if she denies me, tells me to fuck off, then I’ll wonder why I hadn’t called sooner or made an effort.
Remember when I said I was obsessive? You’re starting to see the truth behind it, aren’t you?
IT TAKES MEhalf an hour to get back to Roman’s house, and by the time I do, it’s pouring outside and the party is still in full swing. I search, but I don’t see her, but I do see Xander sitting by the fire, passed out with a beer in his hand.
I want to go up to him, ask him where she is, but I don’t. Something stops me. A thought. She never cared much for him. Had she been doing it to make me jealous?
I search the lawn, by the fire, the driveway, but I don’t see her anywhere. I look for Cadence, Remy, Roman… but they’re nowhere to be found. Has she left the party already?
I think about giving up when I notice the sweatshirt she was wearing by the water where the forest meets the shore. It’s dense over there and usually where couples go to fuck. I remember that much from my time here at Roman’s house. His dad used to find couples out there all the time.
Making my way over to the edge of the water, I look down at her sweatshirt, and then to the tree line. Did I want to go look for her? What if she’s out there with some fuck and I see that? I’d kill any motherfucker who has the nerve to touch her, in that way, but then again, what right do I have to feel that way?
My pulse quickens, the sounds of my heavy breathing and the waves lapping at the shore fill my thoughts. Rain hits the water making a popping sound. Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I say to myself, “Fuck it,” and walk toward the trees. Worse case, she’s with someone. Best case, she’s reading a book? I don’t fucking know. Christ.
Shaking water from my hair, I trudge through the dense salal lining the base of the large pine trees. It’s dark and I have to use my phone to guide me. For what seems like hours, in reality, it’s probably minutes, I vaguely make out a prone figure on the ground. The white stands out. A white shirt.
Barrette.
My heart races, my breathing ridiculously labored as I attempt to make my way over to her. My first thought, she wandered out here and tripped. She’s never been very coordinated. As I get closer, reality sinks in. She’s not moving. A trickle of fear punches my stomach.
“Barrette?” I yell, hoping she stirs. I’m about twenty feet from her now, everything around me dark, silent, deserted.
I look up to see if there’s anyone else around, whirling my phone’s flashlight around. It hits nothing but trees. As I get closer, I swallow over the tightness in my throat. Two feet from her, I see the blood. Have you ever heard the saying “my entire world crumbled?”
I used to think it was bullshit. How can the world crumble?
Two weeks ago, I thought I had an idea.
