Page 201 of Tell Me I'm Enough

Moving from room to room, I drink everything I can get my hands on, wanting the feelings to switch back off.

I end up running straight into someone when I’m not paying attention, too focused on needing this on-edge feeling to die with every burning sip.

I look up from the drink in my hand, and it’s Erik. His expression is concerned when he looks at me, grabbing the sides of my arm. “You good, man?”

I wave him off, finally feeling it hit—the thoughts stop tripping over themselves, and it feels like the knot in my chest loosens.

“Of course. Just…” I feel myself sway a little and smile, loving the moment I know I’ve hit the threshold I needed to reach. The threshold that makes me feel nothing, “gonna go grab a cig outside.”

He nods, still assessing me. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”

I scrunch my nose up at him. “Are you my bodyguard now or something?” I look him up and down. “Honestly, that’s what you should have been for Halloween. You already look like one.”

He just holds me steady, shaking his head. “No, but you’re pretty wasted, just tryna make sure you’re good.”

I pat him on the arm as we make it out onto the front lawn. “You’re a really good guy, you know that?” My eyes start to feel heavy as I reach into the pocket of my jumpsuit, feeling for the Marlboro Reds I stuffed in there earlier. “All…holier than thou now after such a crap upbringing. I mean, look at you. You grew up in the hood…with a shitty dad and all—”

Erik crosses his arms, leaning against the rail. “Alright now.”

I hold the cigarette in my mouth as I pat down my jumpsuit and chest, looking for a lighter.

“What?” I slur. “I get it. I mean…not the whole gang part of your story and all, but, like, the shitty daddy issues I can relate to.”

I see a random lighter sitting on the edge of the porch and grab it, lighting the cigarette and walking back over to lean against the wall.

“How do you do it?” I ask him. “How do you not want to numb it all? How do you stay…sober and not let your past drown you?”

He watches me, thinking of the right way to answer.

“And don’t say God,” I tell him, trying to keep my eyes open, “‘cause I get it, you love the big man upstairs, and he solves all your problems. That’s great and all, but I don’t think God even knows my name, let alone gives a fuck about me, so not really the answer I’m looking for here.”

“Not true,” he says gently. “But that can be a conversation for another sober day. Wanna tell me what’s really going on in your head?”

I drain the drink in my hand before setting it on the ground and taking another drag. “Nothing’s going on. Just…talking to my buddy.”

“Yeah, no. Something’s going on with you lately. I just can’t place what it is,” he says, looking me up and down. “I see the pain written all over this sloppy exterior of yours.”

Erik is tall; he has this ink-black hair, raging dark features, and tattoos that litter his body—the picture of a broody bad boy—but under it all is a complete idiot and real soft teddy bear. And he actually cares, which makes lying to him always harder.

So I choose not to. I just flip him off and keep smoking.

He doesn’t push it, but he stays.

I appreciate it, cause I won’t say it, but I don’t wanna be alone right now. I’m so sick of being alone.

My attention is pulled to the door when I hear Bash coming out with all the girls.

He walks out first with Lydia in hand, Lani and Simone right behind them. They all stop when they see us, and I purposely avoid any eye contact with Simone.

Bash looks between Erik and me. “Everything good?”

I pull out another cigarette, lighting it. “Yep. Y’all headed out?”

Bash pulls Lydia into him, and she smiles.

“Yeah. Bash is driving us back to our dorm,” she says. “Erik, you staying?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head out too.” He looks back at me. “But this conversation isn’t over. We’ll pick it up another time.”