I’ve always loved waking up to the sound of Mom kicking open my bedroom door and yelling at me in the morning.

Note the sarcasm.

My mother stood in my doorway with a cup of coffee in her hand and wearing her sloppy clothing. “You lazy bum, get up and do something already. You have therapy in a few hours.” She grumbled something else but I didn’t catch it.

I buried my face further into my pillow and let out a long sigh. I wasn’t in the mood to go to another therapy session. Today I was going to find out who my ‘Therapeutic Buddy’ was and I was dreading it more than anything. This program was going to ruin my summer, I know it.

I sat up in my bed and rubbed the tired out of my eyes. I looked around my messy bedroom for a pair of pants and a shirt that wasn’t dirty or didn’t smell. Clothes was scattered all over my bedroom floor along with shoes and any other pieces of junk that was in my room.

I pulled on a pair of black jeans and a shirt with a few holes in it that I got at some thrift store. I looked in my small, shattered mirror to see my hair was all over the place and I looked dead from staying up the previous night. I tried to fix my hair the best I could but gave up halfway through and left it the way it was.

I walked into the small kitchen to see Mom making another cup of coffee. “You drink coffee as much as you drink alcohol, which is religiously.” I mumbled.

“Your smoking is just as bad as my drinking, so hush.” She spat.

“My smoking isn’t that bad.”

“You’ve stolen two of my packs of cigarettes within the last month Ash.”

“Because I’m not the legal age to buy cigarettes,”

“Excuses, excuses,” she waved me off and sipped her cup of coffee. She walked off into the living room and sat down on the raggedy couch. I continued to look through the kitchen for something to eat. Shockingly, we had absolutely nothing of my taste.

“We never have any food in this house.” I spoke loudly.

“Dear lord Ash, all you do is complain!” Mom shouted.

“I wouldn’t have to complain if you knew how to be a good parent!” I shouted back. It wasn’t uncommon for Mom and I to yell at each other like this. We rarely got along since we had so many differences between each other.

I heard Mom let out an irritated sigh. “There’s a reason I sent you to that therapist; I’m sick of hearing you complain all the time. Now someone else can deal with your sorry soul.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my car keys and stole a few bucks from Mom’s wallet along with my pack of cigarettes and lighter. “I’m going out,” I said as I walked out the house, slamming the door behind me.

I hopped into my car and turned on the engine. I pulled out of the driveway and started driving to wherever the cheapest foods were sold so I could at least eat something before therapy. I didn’t want to throw up from how sickening the thought of this ‘Therapeutic Buddy’ program is.

~

I finished breakfast and was now sitting in the parking lot of the therapy building. My session didn’t start until 2:15. It was around 2:04, so I had a few minutes to myself before I signed my life away.

I wish I had a cigarette. The pack that I grabbed this morning only had one cigarette left in it and I smoked it after breakfast.

Okay, maybe my smoking was a little out of control. I can’t help it; smoking relaxes me.

I watched people walk in and out of the building either looking as if their life was completely together or starting to fall apart. I wish I knew what it was like to have your life together; all I ever knew was the idea that my life falls apart more and more every week.

I noticed the little blonde twink from last week was walking into the building. He had a hood pulled over his head and his head was hanging low. I let out a quiet, bitter laugh as I watched him walk into the building. Whatever was going on with him, he probably deserved it. From what I learned, that guy has a major attitude problem that needed fixing. Maybe having his little life fall apart for once would teach him a lesson.

I sat in my car for a little while longer until I became restless and bored. There isn’t much to do to entertain yourself when you’re sitting in a therapy building’s parking lot. Well, except sulk in your own sadness. I do that every day and it’s the most exciting thing I can do.

Again, note the sarcasm.

I exited my car and walked into the office building. I entered the familiar elevator and pressed the button to take me to the third floor. I stood by myself in the quiet elevator and mentally prepared myself for whatever I was going to have to deal with today. There wasn’t one thing about this program that I wanted part of; one of the main reasons I signed up was so Dr. Roland would stop harassing me over it.

The elevator made a ding noise and the doors opened to the empty hallway. I walked down the hallway into the therapist office. I signed at the front desk and stole one of the lollipops from the small jar. The candy was supposed to ‘lighten up the place.’

When I turned around to pick whichever chair I’d sit in, I saw the blonde twink sitting in one of the chairs. I don’t think he noticed me, though; his eyes were staring down at the floor and he looked completely zoned out.

He looked dead, both inside and out.

I sat down in one of the seats across the room. I stared at the all too familiar details I had to stare at every week and tried to keep my attention away from blondie. The cream colored walls with small swirl imprints, the plastic flowers layered in dust, the two month old motivational and workout magazines, the rehab center brochures; I know this place too well.

I unwrapped the lollipop and stuck it in my mouth. I sucked on the candy and listened to the constant loop of today’s hits playing in the lobby. I had nothing to do to kill time until Dr. Roland called me in.

My eyes continued to wander around the therapist office. I’ve taken multiple attempts to try and find new details in this office but I fail every time. I know this place too well.

“Can I help you?”

I snapped out of my daze to see blondie staring at me with annoyance. “I said, can I help you?” blondie spat at me.

“What?”

“You were staring at me?” he said in a duh tone. “Keep your eyes to yourself. I would rather you not have your googly eyes on me.”

“Alright princess, don’t get your panties in a twist.” I laughed.

Blondie pulled out his phone and finally shut up. He kept his attention on his phone and away from me. I returned to my lollipop and sat in my seat quietly once again. I wish I brought my headphones or something; this music they play is awful. Who could stand listening to the same Taylor Swift singles on a loop? It feels like my ears are bleeding. I could rip off my ears and get the same effect.

“Luke?”

An older looking woman walked into the lobby with a soft smile on her face. I glanced to blondie to see his attention was off his phone and on the old woman. He stood up and followed the woman into the hallway where all the therapist offices were.

Luke. The blonde twink was named Luke.

I was now left alone in the waiting room with an almost gone lollipop, terrible music on loop, and the sound of the desk receptionist typing away on her computer.

I don’t know why, but I was thinking about that Luke kid. I was curious to know why he was in therapy and what was up with that look on his face. Then again, why even bother to know or care? I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me. Not to mention he seemed to have a stick up his butt. I don’t know about anyone else, but I wasn’t up to making conversation with someone like that.

“Ashton?”

I looked to see Dr. Roland looking at me with the same soft smile the previous woman had. I stood up and followed the doctor into the hall of therapist offices. We made it to the door that had a plaque with Dr. William Roland, Therapist on it. Dr. Roland unlocked the door and we both walked in.

I sat on the maroon couch and played with the stick that originally held the lollipop. Dr. Roland walked over to his desk and pulled out a few sheets of paper. “How are you feeling today, Ashton?”

“Miserable,”

“And why would that be?”

“I’m being forced into this stupid program.”

I heard Dr. Roland sigh and sit in his chair. “Well Ashton, it’s too late to back out of it now. Buddies were assigned and everyone now has their own Therapeutic Buddy.”

I groaned loudly, earning a chuckle from Dr. Roland. “Are you ready to meet your Buddy?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Ashton,” Dr. Roland warned.

I rolled my eyes and let out a long breath. “Fine, bring in whoever I’m being forced with.”

Dr. Roland gave me a small look of disapproval before he exited the room and leaving me alone. I twirled the lollipop stick between my fingers, counting my final minutes of not having someone up my butt about their problems while trying to get something out of me.

I looked out the window to see clouds collected in the sky and rain beginning to fall. When you’re living in California and the weather’s always above ninety, you find rain as a blessing from the gods. Rain and thunderstorms are the things that made me wish I didn’t live in this state.

I was pulled out of my thoughts thanks to the door opening back up. I felt myself fill with anger at the sight of the blonde twink standing there staring at me. He returned the same annoyed and disgusted look I was giving him.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked in disgust.

“This is Luke, he’s your Therapeutic Buddy.” Dr. Roland grinned. “You both matched up and you seem as if you two would work out well together.” Dr. Roland led blondie into the room and sat him on the same couch I was on. I eyed blondie up and down while he stared at me in disgust.

Dr. Roland continued. “Welcome to the Therapeutic Buddy program! You boys will be meeting in this room every Thursday at one in the afternoon. I know this program is going to take some getting used to, but let’s start off by having you both introduce yourself to each other. Ashton, why don’t you start?”

“Can’t you let me jump out the window instead?” I said.

“Ashton,” the doctor warned.

“I would rather kill myself than talk to this bloke.”

Dr. Roland stood up from his desk. “Ashton, can I speak to you outside for a moment?” He fake smiled. I rolled my eyes and stood up, following Dr. Roland into the hallway. I heard Luke snickering as I exited the room. It took all the willpower I had to not turn around and do something to him.

Dr. Roland closed the door behind us and looked at me with annoyance all over his face. “What is wrong with you?”

“A whole lot and you know that for a fact.”

“I’m being serious here, Ashton. Why won’t you talk to Luke?”

“Because that rat has an attitude problem. He kicked me out of where I was sitting in front of the building because apparently it’s suddenly illegal to freely smoke where there isn’t a no smoking sign in sight and then lashed out on me in the waiting room.”

“You are the one with the attitude right now. You won’t say one word to him!” He let out a frustrated breath. “Look Ashton, you’re already signed up for the program and there isn’t any possible way for you to back out now. You have a buddy and you have to talk to him. At least during therapy hours.”

I couldn’t believe that the one person I was paired up with in this program was the one person who I couldn’t get along with. I didn’t know this Luke kid but I knew that I didn’t want to even breathe anywhere near him.

“It’s one summer Ashton. Once a week is the only time you guys meet.”

One summer too long. One day of the week I’ll never get back because I have to waste it with the blonde twink.

I knew Dr. Roland wouldn’t let me go unless I agreed to his plea. He could hold me here hostage for my entire summer until I said I would work with Luke. “Fine, I’ll work with him.” I gave in.

Dr. Roland gave me a smile and patted my back. We both reentered the room to see that Luke kid fussing with the cuffs on his jacket. He looked up at the sound of the door opening. “Let’s get back to where we were,” Dr. Roland sat back in his desk and began the torture that was called the Therapeutic Buddy program.

Save me.

“So, you were forced to be with this kid?”


“That’s what I said,” I inhaled the smoke and blew it out in front of me. “I don’t even like him anyways. The little twink bothers me more than anything and I only had one meeting with him.”

“I don’t even understand this program you're in anyways. Being forced to help people is supposed to be a good thing? I don’t get what’s so good about being put into social situations that you clearly want no part of,” Michael took a sip of his beer. He held the can out in my direction but I shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ve been a few months clean and I don’t want to go back on my habits.”

“Go back on your habits?” Calum snorted. “You haven’t stopped smoking,”


“I’m working on it, alright?” I said. I looked at the cigarette between my fingers, losing interest in it rather quickly. “I don’t even want this anymore.” I rubbed the cigarette into the ground to put it out.


It had to be almost one in the morning and Michael, Calum, and I were sitting in some parking lot drinking and smoking. We did this every once in awhile when Calum wasn’t away at college and Michael was actually up for socializing.


I know, it seems a little odd for a high schooler to be hanging out with a college sophomore and a college freshman dropout (well, he would now be considered a sophomore if he didn’t drop out of college freshman year), but this upcoming school year was my senior year. It wasn’t the biggest age gap and none of us really cared about the age difference.

“What’s this kid’s name anyways?” Michael asked.


“Luke something. I didn’t really pay attention to what was happening since I didn’t want to be there. I would’ve rather drunk bleach than sit there with him,” I laughed at myself.


“He sounds like a washout,” Calum piped up. Calum threw his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “I need to get back home; I have to deal with my extended family tomorrow which I’m not looking forward to.”

“I should be going to; Melanie wanted to go out somewhere tomorrow morning,” I added.


Calum, Michael, and I said our goodbyes and went off into different directions. Calum and I drove off in our cars and Michael walked home since he never got his license.


I arrived home to see Mom passed out on the couch with a beer bottle hanging out of her hand and drool rolling down her face. I grimaced at the sight; what a disgusting woman. No wonder dad left her.


I walked into my mess of a bedroom and stripped of my clothing, tossing it somewhere in my room. I fell onto my bed and wrapped the blankets around me, falling into a sleep that I was waiting for all day.

~


I stood in front of Melanie’s house leaning against my car waiting for her to come out. She called and asked if her and I could talk. I wasn’t sure if what she wanted to talk about was a good or bad thing. I kept my head away from any thoughts and going into this conversation with a clear mind.

Melanie walked out of her house with a small jacket around her waist. She smiled up at me and pecked a kiss on my lips. “How has everything been?” She asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Alright I guess,” I opened the car door for her, letting her hop inside. I closed the door behind her and walked around to my side so I could get in the car as well. I clicked my seatbelt and looked over at her. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party Saturday,”

“Who’s party?”


“Um,” she looked down to her phone and opened up her text messages. “Some guy named Steven. He graduated last year and is throwing some party that all the incoming seniors and recently graduated seniors are invited to.”


I stuck the key in the ignition of the car and thought for a second. “Is there going to be alcohol or anything?”


She nodded, a smile growing on her face. “This Steven guy is loaded with all the expensive, best tasting brands of beer. And apparently there’s going to be some pretty intense drugs there too, but I’m staying clear of those.”

I deeply sighed. “You know I can’t drink anything; that’s one of the reasons I’m in therapy.”

“So don’t drink it,” she said in a ‘duh’ tone.


I gave her a look. “Mel, it isn’t easy like that. Yeah, I’ve been a few months clean but it’s easy to relapse, especially when surrounded by alcohol at a party with drunk people.”

“You’re being such a buzz kill Ash,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m so sorry that I want to get better.” I hissed.

I heard Melanie whimper. “Just come to the party, please?” I looked over to Melanie to see her huge, doe like eyes staring at me begging me to say yes. She knew that was one of the things I couldn’t resist rejecting.

“Fine,” I waved my hand. Melanie squaled in excitement. “But I’m not drinking anything and I’m not doing any drugs.”

“And buzz kill Ashton makes his return.”

I was stuck in Dr. Roland’s office again waiting for this Luke guy to show up. He was almost ten minutes late and this was only our second session. Today was the last day Dr. Roland would sit in on our session before he would leave Luke and I alone to talk things out and begin to not rely on a therapist to give us a topic of conversation.

I kicked a small, bright green stress ball between my feet on the floor in attempt to entertain myself while waiting for blondie. In all honesty, I didn’t mind not having to deal with Luke, but he could at least get here sooner so I wouldn’t have to be stuck in this office playing the silent game with my therapist.

Dr. Roland and I talked about a few things; my smoking habits, how my relationship has been with my mother, my home life, etc. But he said that I should keep a few conversation topics for Luke and I.

As if I wanted to talk about my possible suicidal thoughts and drinking habits with him.


The door swung open and in came Luke. “Luke, so nice for you to join us,” Dr. Roland spoke up.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to Luke in the doorway with his black, scruffy jacket. I don’t understand how he could wear that in ninety degree weather. Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll pass out from heat exhaustion.

“I’m sorry for being late sir,” Luke apologized.

“That’s alright Luke, let’s just not make this a habit.” Dr. Roland replied. Luke nodded his head and sat on the couch opposite of the one I was sitting on.


“Alright boys,” Dr. Roland said. “I hope that you are both aware on the fact that this will be the second and last session I’ll be sitting in on and help you both start up conversation with each other. After this, I expect you both to help each other out and start a bond.”

Bonding with this kid? That sounds like a joke.


“How about you boys tell each other your reasonings you’re in therapy?” Dr. Roland suggested. I didn’t even care if this kid knew what was wrong with me. Almost everyone in this town knew and at this point it wasn’t a big deal. My life story was nothing more than a joke.

“Which one of you would like to go first?”

Luke and I sat in our seats not saying a word.

“Ashton,” I looked up to Dr. Roland. “Why don’t you start?”


I rolled my eyes; I knew he would pick me first. I’m his most difficult patient and he picks on me the most. Of course he would make me go first. “I was sent here because of my suicide attempt, my smoking, my drinking, and my sad excuse for a mom and my lack of a dad.” I said it all as if it were nothing.


Luke flinched at the mention of my suicide, making me question if my suicide attempt (or suicide in general) a sensitive topic. Well, it must be since he was fazed by just the mention of it.

“Alright Luke, your turn.”


Luke sat back in his seat and looked to me. “I’m here because I’m dealing with grief, anger issues, and family issues.”

“I can see where the anger comes from,” I snorted.


“Ashton!” Dr. Roland shouted. I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed another stress ball from the side table. The bright green one was still sat on the floor but I was too lazy to pick it up. Teenagers are lazy. Shocking, right?


Just as Dr. Roland opened his mouth, there was a knock on the office door. I mentally thanked whatever god had created an interruption during this torturous session.

“Excuse me Dr. Roland, but do you think you could step out for a moment?” the man in the doorway asked.


Dr. Roland sighed. “I ..I guess.” Dr. Roland stood up from his seat and looked directly at me. “Ashton, start up a conversation, why don’t you?” the therapist walked out of the room, leaving Luke and I by ourselves.


Luke pulled out his phone and began to tap away at the screen. I squeezed the stress ball in my hand, quietly watching Luke. I was supposed to start conversation, but that was hard to do when blondie texted whoever was so desperately waiting for his reply.


I tried to peek over to see whatever he was doing. He was typing so vigorously that it wasn’t easy to push out the sound of his fingers tapping against the glass screen.

“Could you not be so nosey?”


I saw the look of annoyance on Luke’s face. “Jesus Christ, you were staring at me last week and now you’re trying to read what I’m writing? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”

“You really weren’t kidding about that anger issue.” I half laughed.


Luke sat up and stared me dead in the eyes. “Listen, I hate being here as much as you do. I’m only in this program because my mom thought it would be a good idea for me to talk to people. Obviously the last person I want to talk to is you.” He paused. “Just leave me alone, don’t talk to me, and maybe I can get through this summer without you or these therapists harassing me.”


“Harassing you? I’m the one who’s trying to put effort into getting Dr. Roland off of my back and do this program. He forced me into this thing and it’s too late to get out of it now. And I don’t think you know this but we have to do an evaluation of our ‘Buddy’ at the end of the summer. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty bad at lying. It’s either we get both of our therapists off our backs and try to be friends, or have our therapists bother us for the next three months over how we aren’t ‘bonding’ or whatever.”

Luke scoffed. “Like I would do that.”



I knew this kid would be stubborn. I wasn’t up for dealing with Dr. Roland scolding me for not trying to be friends with Luke, so it was time to guilt trip him into this program. I may not be good at lying, but making people feel guilty was always my biggest talent.

Would that even be counted as a talent?


I stood up off of my seat and held my hands up in defeat. “Alright then princess, if you want to have your therapist harass you all summer because you aren’t even trying to talk to me, be my guest.” I began to walk towards the door to exit the room.


It wasn’t my fault if this kid wasn’t up for at least trying to talk. He’s the one who’s putting himself up for nagging from his therapist, not me.

“Wait, uh ..Ashton,”

I knew that would work.


I turned around to blondie with my arms crossed. He ran his fingers through his tall hair. “A-Are you doing anything this weekend?” I could tell this was killing him.

Good.


I nodded. “I’m going to a party with my girlfriend and a few friends. You can tag along if you want.”

“A party?”

I slowly nodded again. “Yes, a party. Those things teenagers go to and pretend to like each other when we actually hate each other and get wasted for the night to forget about our life.”

“I know what a party is,” Luke hissed. “I just haven’t been to one in a few years.”


It was silent for a few seconds. “Well, are you in or out?” I was starting to become impatient with him taking his time to come up with a simple answer.

“Fine, yeah I’m in.”


“Good,” I took his phone out of his hand and added my phone number to his contacts. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up at around seven thirty. Don’t take your time getting ready because my girlfriend hates people who take their time.”


With that, I exited the room and walked out of the office. I knew inviting Luke to the party would help us ‘bond’ or something, but I wasn’t sure on how Melanie, Michael, or Calum would react to my plus one.

I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted my jacket. I decided that since this was the first party I was attending in a really, really long time, I should actually look decent and wear a fake leather jacket I found in the back of my closet instead of the worn out jacket I’d usually wear. I was going to wear bracelets too but went against the idea -- the jacket was enough cover up.


I had music playing as loud as possible to try and push out the sound of mom and dad fighting. I don’t know what they were fighting about this time -- I think it had to do with how they can’t agree on anything.


My parents fight more than any couple I’ve ever seen. Their fights have never gotten out of hand, but that’s always been one of my fears.


I was waiting for ...what’s his name? Ashton? I was waiting for Ashton to pick me up for this party. It was around seven twenty and I was ready for the party that I was tagging along to.


What do teenagers even do at parties? The last time I attended a party, I was fourteen almost fifteen and the most ‘outrageous’ thing we did was pour soda in the fishbowl. The fish didn’t last long, but it was still the most insane thing we could do. But now I’m seventeen and I don’t know what people do at parties like this.

God, I’m lame.


I heard a door slam and then followed by someone stomp down the stairs of the staircase and out the front door. That means Mom and Dad were finally done fighting and dad probably went out to drink or something.


I kind of wish my parents didn’t argue so much. Normal parents fight every once in awhile over typical things like taxes or who has to go to the store. My parents weren’t like that at all; they fought over everything.


My phone buzzed on my bedside table. I grabbed the phone and read the text from Ashton saying he was outside of my house.


I grabbed my phone and walked down the staircase. “Mom, I’m going out!” I shouted behind me.

“Who with?” she asked.

I turned around to see my mother with faint makeup running down her face. “A few friends,” I lied.

She nodded. “Have fun.” She put on the fake smile that she always put on after her and dad fight. I’m pretty sure she puts on that fake smile more then she puts on a real one.


I walked out of the house to see my dad’s car was no longer in the driveway and an old, beat up sedan sitting in front of my house. I saw Ashton, a girl, and two other guys sitting in the back seat. Great -- not only would I have to deal with Ashton, but now his (most likely) obnoxious girlfriend and friends.

All I have to do is get along with Ashton to get Dr. Aaron off of my back. How hard could it be?

I opened the back door of the sedan sat myself in the back seats next to Ashton’s friends. The two guys looked at me up and down. It took a lot for me to not snap at them and ask them what their problem is.

I don’t think Ashton’s even noticed I got into the car; he was in some conversation with his girlfriend. I think it had something to do with alcohol.

“Hey Ash,” the one with the dark blue hair spoke up. “Who’s the twink?”

The conversation between Ashton and his girlfriend ended. They both turned to me. “Oh uh, this is Luke. He’s the guy who I have to do that program with.” Ashton briefly introduced me.

His girlfriend gave me a small, soft smile. I returned the soft smile and sat back in my seat.

There was music playing in the background and some conversation going on during the drive, but besides that the drive was mostly silent. I didn’t care though since I knew nothing about anyone here and was only going to this party so Ashton and I could somewhat start getting along.



“So, you’re the kid who was forced together with Ashton?” the tan boy asked me. I slowly nodded my head. “If you’re in that program, then there must be something wrong with you.”

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“Cal,” Ashton warned.


“If you’re in therapy then there must be something wrong with you. Therapy is for the people who need happy pills and can’t function like a normal person. What’s your reason?”

“Your life must be pretty pathetic and boring if you really want to butt into mine.” I bitterly said.

“I’m not the one that has to go to a therapist.”

“And I’m not the one who gets wasted any chance they get.”


“Guys!” Ashton shouted over the both of us. “Cal, I go to therapy too incase you forgot and I don’t appreciate you picking on something like that. Also, Luke just got here and you’re already attacking him. Chill out already,”

“You don’t even like him Ash, why are you standing up for him?” the blue haired boy asked.

“We’re working on the whole ‘hating each other’ thing, alright?” Ashton sighed.


Great, Ashton’s friends are just as much of a numskull as he is. This was going to be a very, very long night.

~

It reeks of alcohol here and I’ve passed at least three people who are stoned.


Once we showed up to this party, Ashton and his little group all went their separate ways and left me by myself. I never even caught any of their names (besides Ashton’s, obviously).


I was sitting on a couch next to people who looked like they were in their early twenties. They were all either passing what looked like a blunt or snorting cocaine through a small straw. If this is what all parties are like these days then I never want to attend another party ever again.


One of the guys turned to me with the blunt. “C’mon man, you only live once!” He laughed, brain obviously fried.


I took the blunt from his hand and shoved it into his mouth. I stood up from the couch and began to walk around the house in search for at least one of the four people I showed up with.


I don’t understand Ashton’s logic in this whole ‘come to the party and we can bond’ plan would work; Ashton left me as soon as we showed up. How are we supposed to ‘bond’ if he left me to get high or something?

There were at least four or five drunk people who bumped into me. I would be lying if I said I was beginning to lose my temper.


I saw those two guys that were in the back of Ashton’s car with me -- they were in the kitchen doing shots and chanting with a bunch of other teenagers and young adults. They both had one shot in each hand and were obviously tipsy.


I walked over to them, squeezing between the crowd of drunk people to get to tan boy and the guy with blue hair. They both threw the alcohol in their mouth and laughed along with the crowd.


I tapped the shoulder of the blue hair boy since the tan one was already getting on my bad side. The blue haired boy turned to me with drips of alcohol running down the corner of his lips. “Where’s Ashton?” I yelled over the blaring music and obnoxious crowd.

“W-Who?” he stumbled over his words ...well, word.

“Ashton, where is he?” I repeated.

“I-I don’t know an Ash-Ashley,” he shouted back.


I sighed in irritation. “No, where’s Asht-” my attention was caught by a figure running down the staircase in a hurry, pushing through all of the drunk and high people and out the front door in a hurry.

It was Ashton.


I ignored whatever else the blue haired boy was trying to tell me and hurried out the front door of the house. I don’t really know why I was going after Ashton; I barely even know him. But I guess checking to see if he was okay was a step towards us ‘bonding?’

I’m doing it to keep my therapist off my back, alright?


I shoved my way through the mess of people and out the front door of the house. I inhaled the fresh, non-alcohol smelling air. I thought I was going to pass out from the smell of alcohol and sweaty people in one house.


I scanned over the scenery around me in search for the tall boy. I saw a figure sitting on the curb of the sidewalk with their elbows propped on their knees, head hanging low. I knew it was Ashton -- I recognized the hair.


I slowly walked over to Ashton, cautious of not making any noises to let him know I was near. I was probably the last person who he wanted to see, but he seems to be upset. After all the pain I’ve endured through my life, I learned that no one wants to be alone when they’re upset, even if they say they want to.

Even if that means being comforted by someone you don’t like.


“Ashton?” I spoke softly, walking closer to the hunched figure. I don’t think he heard me; he didn’t respond or even move. “Ashton,” I repeated.


I went to tap his shoulder, but he had already turned his attention to me. His eyes looked rimmed with tears and he seemed to be upset. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I was just checking to see if you were oka--”

“Were you spying on me?” he said in a harsh tone.

“What?”


“You were spying on me, weren’t you?” Ashton bitterly spoke, standing up quickly. “Did Bradley send you down here to videotape my reaction? Well, I hope he gets the reaction he wants!”

What is he talking about? Who’s Bradley and why would I videotape him?


I repressed whatever anger I knew was wanting to build up. The last thing that needed to happen right now is to fight when we’re trying to build some sort of relationship.

“What are you ..” I deeply sighed. “Ashton, what happened?”

“I’m not going to tell you!” he bitterly laughed.

“Ashto-”


“Don’t ‘Ashton’ me,” he quickly cut in. “Don’t think that you can come out here and be best friends with me just because I saw my girlfriend sleeping with some bozo.”


I felt the anger continue to bubble up inside of me. I forgot to take my pill this morning, making it harder for me to control the irritation. I clenched my fists in attempt to calm myself.

“All I’m trying to do is help.” I tried to keep a cool head.


“You? Help me? That’s a joke.” Tears were still running down Ashton’s cheeks as he lashed out on me.


“You know what Ashton?” I finally snapped. “If you seriously can’t accept help when you obviously need it because it’s coming from someone who’s willing to put all of their issues behind them just to help you, then there’s something really wrong with you.” I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. “I’m going home. Thanks for the amazing night,” I sarcastically spat.


I turned around and stomped down the sidewalk. I heard Ashton continue to shout profanities at me but I only responded by flipping him off from behind.

I knew coming to this party would be nothing but a waste of my time. I knew that Ashton and I wouldn’t get along because he’s too full of himself to receive help from anyone that isn’t himself.

I wasted my night with a bunch of stoned, drunk morons.


After walking around for at least fifteen minutes, I slowly realized that I had no idea where I was -- the neighborhood I live in looked nothing like the one I’m in now.


I continued to walk, thinking that I would somehow find my way into my neighborhood and get home before dad did; whenever I’m home and dad’s intoxicated, he’s nothing but a nightmare.


The longer I walked around this neighborhood, the more I became lost and probably the farther away I got from my destination. I slowly felt myself begin to panic; this hasn’t happened before. I always found my way home and now I don’t even know where I am.


I stopped in my tracks, pulling out my phone and looked for someone to call. I couldn’t call Mom because she was probably asleep at this point (it’s 11:30 at night, of course she’s asleep. She can never stay up past midnight). Dad was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, and then there were only a few numbers that belonged to people from school that I don’t talk to.


I scrolled through my contacts a few more times in attempt to find someone to come and pick me up. I passed Ashton’s name a few times but tried to avoid gaining contact with him after our little mishap back at the party.


Then again, no one else knew how to get back to my house except Ashton. I could ask his girlfriend but I had no idea who she was. I could also ask his two friends that were in the car with us, but they were probably drunk to the point of alcohol poisoning by now.


I sighed, dialing Ashton’s number and held the phone to my ear and waited for him to pick up. It took a few rings, but he surprisingly ended up answering.

“What?” he spat.

I sighed. “Can you pick me up?”


“What’s wrong princess? You couldn’t find your way back home on your own so you’re crawling back to me?” he bitterly laughed.

I rolled my eyes. “Can you pick me up or not?”


I heard Ashton let out a quick sigh. “Get back to the party and wait by my car. Text me when you’re here.” The line went dead.


I stuffed my phone back in my pocket and began to walk back down the sidewalk that lead to the party. I pulled my jacket around myself in attempt to keep warm. This jacket was fake leather, making it hard to even be the slightest amount of being warm.


The walk back to the house seemed shorter than the walk from the house. The houses I passed by all blacked out from how late at night it was. It was hard to see where I was going from how dark it was.


I arrived back at the house to see someone was passed out on the front lawn and two girls making out on the hood of a car.


I pulled out my phone to text Ashton that I was waiting near his car. I impatiently waited for Ashton to step out of the house and take me home and as far away from this party as possible. I’ve dealt with enough drug addicts and alcoholics for one night.

This party reminded me why I don’t like socializing with people my age.


I leaned against Ashton’s car while waiting for Ashton to walk out of the house, sending him a quick text. One of the girls who were making out on the hood of a car walked up to me. Her makeup was smeared and her dress was slipping off of her body.

“What’s a young boy like you doing out here by himself?” she giggled. She reeked of alcohol.

“Could you go away?” I asked in the nicest tone possible.

“Oh come on, you’re a cutie.” She poked my cheek, her sharp nail stabbing my face. She pulled me closer to her. “I think you and I should head upstairs and have a little fun,” she whispered in my ear.

“I’m not interested.”

“You know you want me,” she giggled.

“No, I’m almost positive that I don’t.”


She pulled on my arm, grabbing my left wrist. I winced at her grip. “C’mon, let’s go upstairs. I know the best bedroom in this place.”


I tried to pull my wrist out of her hand; it was beginning to hurt worse the longer she held onto me. “Would you mind letting to of me?” I sternly said.

“Come upstairs with me.”

“I made it perfectly clear that I don’t want to.”

“Then I’m not letting you leave!”


The girl continued to pull on my wrist. I felt the slits on my wrist begin to sting more and more, making me continuously grimace. I needed to get rid of her before she opened up one of the cuts on my wrist. I’ve gone at least three months hiding them from everyone and I wasn’t going to let some intoxicated girl expose me.


I pulled my arm out of the girl’s grasp and held my wrist against my chest. The girl scoffed, “You weren’t that attractive anyways.”


The girl walked, well stumbled, away and back inside of the house. Once she walked in the house, Ashton walked out. The closer Ashton walked to me, his face scrunched in confusion.

“Why are you holding your arm like that?” he asked.

“Because,”

“Because…?”

“Could you just take me home already?” I snapped, avoiding any other questions.


Ashton didn’t ask anything else, thankfully, and unlocked the car. I opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat while Ashton got into the driver’s seat. He started up the car and drove off from the house.


Obviously, neither of us made conversation. There was still a tension lingering between us that wasn’t going to be cleared up anytime soon.


I slid my fingers into the sleeve of my left arm and tried to brush my fingers over the cuts on my wrist. I only felt the first few, and they felt like they were still in tact and hadn’t opened. I could only hope for the same result for the rest of the cuts.


Not soon enough, we arrived back at my house. I stepped out of the car, mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ to Ashton. I noticed my dad’s car was back in the driveway, making me let out a long sigh. I mentally prepared for whatever was coming at me when I entered the house.


I heard Ashton drive off. I stepped up the stairs on the front porch and unlocked the front door with the spare key I had hidden in my phone case.


I stepped into the house and looked to my right to see dad staring blankly at the television, which was muted. I don’t know why he would watch a muted television.

I took quiet steps, making sure my shoes don’t squeak or make any kind of noise on the tile floor.

“Liz?” Dad spoke up.

I cleared my throat. “N-No dad, it’s Luke.”


Dad sat up from his seat and looked at me. “Did you just now come home?” he asked. I nodded. He stood up and took slow steps towards me. “Where were you all night?”

“Just hanging out with some friends,” I lied.


Dad stepped closer to me, eyeing me suspiciously. I was able to smell the liquor on his breath. “Are you lying to me?”

I frantically shook my head. “No, never.”

Two lies in a row. Way to go Luke.


Dad stared at me for a few more seconds before telling me to go to my room and leave him alone for the rest of the night. I obeyed, not wanting to deal with him as much as he doesn’t want to deal with me.


I hurried up the staircase and into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I pulled off the fake leather jacket to examine my wrist. Old, healed scars and new, fresh slits blanketed my wrist.


None of the cuts opened up, which I was very, very thankful for. Some of the cuts that were further down my wrist were messier to clean up than some of the others since they were vertical and not horizontal.


I stripped from the rest of my clothing and threw them in the pile stacked high with dirty clothes. I slipped into my pajamas and into bed.


I pulled the blankets over my body and let out a long sigh. I knew I would get no sleep; my thoughts would be too much of a mess to catch even a wink of sleep.

Sigh.

I was sat in the waiting room with no one else around me except the receptionist, who was making phone calls. It was Thursday once again which meant another ‘Therapeutic Buddy’ meeting.


Luke and I haven’t had any sort of contact since the night of the party, which I wasn’t shocked about -- him and I fought that night. I didn’t want to talk to him, and he didn’t want to talk to me. Simple as that.

“Ashton,”


Dr. Roland stood in the waiting room with a clipboard in hand and a faint smile on his face. I stood up and followed Dr. Roland into his office. The familiar scent of vanilla filled my nose; Dr. Roland always had some sort of air freshener to make his room reek of something.


I sat on the leather couch and reached for a stress ball, squeezing it in my hand. Today’s stress ball was an obnoxious yellow.

“Where’s Luke?” Dr. Roland asked.

I shrugged.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not since Saturday,”


Dr. Roland tilted his head. “What happened on Saturday?” he questioned as he organized a few papers.



“I invited him to a party on Saturday,” I shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. The party and hanging out with Luke were both a total bust.

“And how did that go?”

“We argued and then I took him home.” I simply said.


Dr. Roland sighed. He walked over to the couch I was sitting on and sat next to me. “Ashton,” he started. Here we go. “Do you realize how important this program is? And how important it is for you and Luke to get along?”

I stayed silent.


He continued, “We need all of our patients involved in the program to get along and make our therapist office look legible to keep this program for future patients. So far, all of our Buddies are getting along and getting somewhere except you and Luke.”


Well that made me feel great about myself knowing that I was one of the central issues in this situation.


“Also, I’m not sure if Luke has told you this, but he’s been through some very tough times in his life, and is still going through some hard patches. I was going over his papers the other day and, Luke isn’t a very popular kid; he doesn’t have much of a social circle.


“One of the main reasons Dr. Aaron had put Luke in the program was to try and have him make friends, especially after what he had gone through last year.” He took a pause. “It hasn’t been easy for us to pair him up with someone. All we’re asking is if you at least try and work with him?”


I was going to say how I’ve been trying to get along with Luke, but I went against it. I nodded my head, not saying a word.

Dr. Roland softly grinned. “Thank you Ashton,”


Dr. Roland stood up from the couch and walked back to his desk. He asked me a few more typical therapy questions to kill time before Luke had shown up.


I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about what Dr. Roland was talking about when he said Luke had gone through tough times. It made me curious to figure out exactly what happened with Luke. Maybe whatever happened to him would explain why Luke is the way he is.


The door opened and Luke walked into Dr. Roland’s office, once again wearing that black jacket.

“I’m sorry for being late,” he apologized. He sounded exhausted.


“That’s alright Luke, we can’t keep this habit up though; it isn’t fair to Ashton who’s here on time.” Dr. Roland collected his papers on his desk. “I will be leaving you boys to talk about anything you desire. I’ll be back when your session ends,”


Dr. Roland walked out of the room, leaving Luke and I by ourselves. Luke sat on the couch opposite of the one I was on with his eyes fixed on his phone.


Just from the way he looked, I could tell he got no sleep the previous night; his hair was a mess, there were dark circles around his eyes, he was more relaxed than how he usually was, and he seemed to move slower than usual.


The room was silent except for the sound of Luke’s fingers typing on his phone. I wonder what he was doing on his phone; from what I picked up from Dr. Roland, he didn’t have any friends, so what else could he do on there?


I felt a bit of sympathy for Luke; he had no one. Besides his parents, he had no one his age to run to with a problem. I guess I was the only person these therapists could feel like Luke could turn to.

Talk about pressure.


I squeezed the yellow ball in my hand. I tried to muster up something to say to start a conversation with Luke. Even if he didn’t want to talk, I at least had to try.

I cleared my throat. “Hey Luke,”

He turned to me with annoyance written all over his face. “What?”

“Uh,” I drew a blank. “How are you?”

Smooth Ashton. That’s a real conversation starter!


“Tired.” he harshly spoke. He turned back to his phone and continued typing whatever he was typing before.


I mentally rolled my eyes and tried again. “What are you typing?” I asked, sitting up in my seat.

“Words.”


This kid is impossible to work with; he doesn’t talk about anything. How do Dr. Roland and Dr. Aaron expect me to work with him if he doesn’t say more than one word at once?

“No, I mean, what are you writing about?”

“Something.”

I let out an irritated breath. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Is there any reason we’re suddenly playing Twenty Questions?”


Even when Luke’s exhausted, he still brings his attitude with him. I knew trying to talk to Luke would be the hardest task I would have to accomplish when it comes to building a bond or something.


Luke and I sat in silence again. He continued to tap away on his phone while I sat there with the stress ball in my hand. The silence was more of awkward than comfortable.

I sighed. “Look, Luke --”

“Could you please shut up for more than five minutes?” he snapped.


I sat back in my seat, completely astonished; who does he think he’s talking to? Did this kid think I would obey him?

“You, my friend, need to calm down.” I half laughed.

Luke waved me off and returned to his phone once again.


There was a brief silence between us. “Luke,” I started again. “Can you quit it with the tough guy act already? We need to start getting along. The therapists are starting to notice that we aren’t working things out.”


Luke bitterly chuckled. “Your little ‘let’s invite Luke to a party because we can bond there’ plan didn’t work, so what makes you think that taking another attempt to ‘bond’ would work?”

“Everyone and everything deserves a second chance?” it came out more as a question.


Luke rolled his eyes, standing up from his seat. “I’ll see you at next week’s session.” He began to head for the door, but I grabbed onto his wrist before he could get any farther.


Luke yelped when I grabbed his wrist. He quickly spun around and ripped his wrist out of my grip. He cradled his arm against his chest and stared at me with a mix of pain and horror.

I took a few steps towards him while he took a few steps back. “Luke, are you oka--”

“I have to go,” he cut me off and ran out of the room.


Luke shut the door behind him and left me alone in the middle of the office with nothing but confusion running through my mind.


What just happened? Why did Luke freak out because I held onto his wrist? He held his wrist against his chest just like he did the night of the party. I had a feeling of why he was acting like that, but I tried to not jump to conclusions, even if the reasons I thought made sense.

I sat in my car across the street from Luke’s house. I held a cigarette between my fingers with my hand hanging out the window. The car was off which meant I didn’t even have music playing in the background. It was just me, the cigarette, and silence.


I don’t know why I’m at Luke’s house. Well, I do, but I’m not sure why I went through with the idea of coming to his house to check up on him. He and I aren’t friends and he never invited me over. This was something out of my comfort zone for sure.


Luke and I haven’t seen each other since our little mishap on Thursday during therapy. It’s been at least three days since then. I couldn’t get the look of horror on Luke’s face out of my mind.


I also couldn’t stop thinking about what made him freak out and made him leave in such a rush. I had a few ideas, but I couldn’t lock in on an idea so soon. I needed more details before anything else.


I sighed, stepping out of the car and dropping my cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. I really need to start getting my smoking habits under control.


I walked up to the front door of the house. I hesitated a second before knocking. I waited a few seconds, and then a blonde woman opened the door. “May I help you?” she asked.

I slid my hands in my pockets awkwardly. “Is Luke home?”

“He went out to grab a few things. May I ask who you are?”

Oh yeah, I’ve never met his mother. Oops.


“I’m a ...friend, of Luke’s.” I plastered on a fake smile. God, I couldn’t explain how wrong it felt to call Luke a friend.


A soft smile grew on the woman’s face. “That’s great,” she says. “Would you like to come in?” She offered, stepping to the side and pulled the door open to allow me in.


I stepped into the house. The woman led me to the family room and we both sat down on the fake leather couch. I looked around the home and to say I was impressed by the house was an underestimation.


This house isn’t a mansion or is one of those expensive homes you’d find online, but it was definitely nicer than the house I lived in. The house was two stories, I could see the kitchen from the family room and it’s huge, their family room is beautiful; it’s the kind of house I could only dream of.

“So,” the woman pulled me out of my thoughts. “How did you and Luke meet?”

“We met in therapy.”


The woman nodded. “It’s nice to know that Luke’s getting out there again and socializing with kids his own age. I didn’t think he would want to socialize after everything that happened with Austin,” she sighed and looked down to her lap. “It’s still something he doesn’t know how to properly cope with.”


I was hit with a completely new wave of confusion. This was something I was probably not supposed to know, but now that his mother had mentioned it, I couldn’t help but become more and more curious.

“What exactly happened?” I asked.


The woman lightly chuckled. “I don’t know if I should talk about this without Luke. It’s more of his situation than mine.” She paused. She looked over to a picture frame that was sat on a side table next to her side of the couch. A grin forms on her face. “It was a simpler time in our life, especially for Luke. He wasn’t on meds, he didn’t have to go to therapy, he had friends; if only things stayed like that for longer.”


The atmosphere was very ...down, I guess you could say. Whatever Luke’s mother was talking about, it was surely something that was hitting a nerve.


The front door opened and closed. Footsteps walked into the family room and those footsteps belonged to the one and only Luke. He had a plastic bag in his hand. And of course he was wearing that black jacket. He looked me up and down in disgust. “What is he doing here?”

“Oh, your friend came to visit.” His mom answered.

“Friend’s a strong word,” he mumbled.


“Why don’t you show your friend your room?” his mother offered. I could tell by the look on Luke’s face, he really wanted to say no and kick me out, but he agreed to his mother’s statement.

Momma’s boy? Maybe.


Luke led me up the staircase of the house and into the first entrance we saw. We both walked in and I was surprised to see his bedroom. It was a lot cleaner than mine; he didn’t have clothes all over his flood unlike mine.

Luke closed the bedroom door behind us and sat himself on his bed. He looked up to me. “What do you want?”


I sighed and leaned against the closed bedroom door, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want to know what happened on Thursday at therapy.”

Luke stiffened a bit but I could tell he tried to brush it off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”


“Alright, let me refresh your memory,” I said, giving up on the part of the conversation that was obviously going nowhere. “I grabbed onto your wrist and you looked like you were about to pass out or something. Then right after that, I tried to ask if you were okay and you just ran out of the room like the building was on fire or something.”


Luke stared at me with a stern expression. I saw how he slowly tugged his sleeves over his hands, creating sweater paws. “That’s something for me to know and for you to keep yourself out of.”


I deeply sighed and walked over to the bed. I sat myself down next to Luke who still had a grim look. “You’re going to eventually have to tell me. We’re each other’s ‘Therapeutic Buddies’ and we have to talk to each other or else we’ll get into more trouble.”

“I know,” he shrugged.

“Then why are you making us get into trouble? All you have to do is talk to me.”

“I am talking to you.”

I gave Luke a disapproving look. “You know what I mean.”


The more I talked to Luke and urged him to open up to me, the more I realized how much this situation matched up to how I acted with Dr. Roland. Luke won’t tell me a single thing which is what I do with Dr. Roland. Now I understand why Dr. Roland is frustrated with me throughout 90% of our sessions.


Luke shrugged again. “I know you don’t care about what I have to say so there’s no use in talking to you.”

“Who said I don’t care?”

Luke snorted, “It’s pretty obvious; you and I fight almost all the time and we don’t get along. You also don’t care about the program so that makes it pretty clear that you don’t care about me. And I don’t care about you, so we’re even!” He clapped his hands together and stood up, walking to the opposite side of the room.

“You’re really hard to talk to, you know that?” I stood up as well, sighing. “All I ask from you is to talk to me. At least tell me what happened at therapy a few days back.”

“I told you, that’s my business and my business only.” He simply said.


I felt the frustration start to rise inside of me. I was really trying to talk to Luke, but he was making this situation harder than it needs to be. He’s avoiding everything I’m saying and won’t talk to me at all. I could talk to a wall and get more of a conversation than talking to Luke.

“What will it take to get you to talk to me?” I asked, trying to reason with Luke.

“Haven’t I made it simple enough that I don’t want to talk?” he harshly said.


I ran my fingers through my hair stressfully. “You don’t realize how hard I’m trying here, Luke. I want to get somewhere with you and start talking instead of avoiding each other as much as we can. Dr. Roland and your therapist are onto us that we’re getting nowhere.”


Luke stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest without saying a word. I wasn’t sure if he was pushing out everything I was saying or actually listening to me for once.


I continued, “If you’re not comfortable with telling me what happened at therapy, then that’s fine, I completely understand that. All I want is to at least talk about what makes you angry (since you have anger issues, from what you told me) or at least what you do when you’re at home. I don’t know, whatever we talk about with our therapists, we’re supposed to talk about those things with each other.”


Luke looked down to his shoes, still not saying anything. I think what I said was actually starting to get through his mind and make sense. That’s a first.


“Here, I’ll start,” I spoke up again. “Uh, when I was sixteen, I snuck some of my Mom’s alcohol into my bedroom while she was asleep and drank a whole bottle. I was drunk for the first time and I loved it. I’ve been sober for nearly a year but I still go to therapy for drinking.”


I don’t know why I started with the first time I drank alcohol, but it was the only thing I could think of. It’s quite a charming story, I know. It’s a story to tell my future kids.

Note the sarcasm.


Luke’s eyes shifted up to meet mine. He still had the same bored expression on his face. I feel like Luke doesn’t experience any other emotion besides complete and utter boredom.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think you could at least try as much as I am to make this whole program thing work?” I asked, hope in my voice. “It’s just one summer. Three months of us dealing with each other and we’ll never have to see each other ever again.”

Luke continued to stare at me. I stood in my spot waiting for some sort of response or answer from him. I expected a no or a ‘yeah right’ as an answer since that’s all he knows how to say to me.

Luke sighed. “Fine.”

...what?


“I’ll try this Buddy thing, I guess,” he mumbled. “But don’t think that I’m doing this to become ‘best friends.’ I’m only doing this to get you and our therapists off our back. Think of it as charity work.”


I mentally rolled my eyes but kept a stern face. At least Luke was finally going to try and work with me. This was possibly going to be the one and only time Luke and I could agree on something. Well, kind of.


“But,” he spoke up again. “I don’t like talking in that therapist office; I feel like we’re being watched even if your therapist isn’t there and it creeps me out.”


He doesn’t want to talk ...in the therapist office? Is he really being a diva over where we can and can’t talk based on where he does and doesn’t like going? Luke was a true piece of art, let me tell you that.

“Then where are we supposed to go?”


Luke waved me over to his window on the opposite of the room. I followed behind him and stood in front of the window. Behind his house was a whole lot of trees and plants. It looked like smaller version of a woodsy kind of area.


Luke pointed at the window. “There’s a small house, cabin kind of thing out there. It’s somewhere I went when I was younger. It’s a whole lot more private than the therapist office.”


I thought it was interesting that Luke had a little hideout from the rest of the world. I understood where he was coming from with the privacy aspect of the cabin -- we wouldn’t have Dr. Roland or Luke’s therapist popping in in the middle of our sessions and it was somewhere only the two of us would go to talk about anything. It wasn’t a bad idea, to be honest.

I nodded. “Alright. When do you want to start meeting there?”



Luke thought for a second. “We could go there after therapy on Thursdays since we see each other on Thursdays anyways. I don’t want to see you one more than I have to.”


I ignored Luke’s last comment. From the time I’ve known Luke, I’ve picked up that he has a tendency to drop insults and offensive statements whenever he gets the chance.


I left Luke’s house as soon as I could. The tension between us was awkward and I didn’t want to stand there for more time than needed. All I had to do at this point was mentally prepare for being alone with Luke outside of therapy. Sigh.

The one thing I hate about walking to and from therapy was when it randomly started to pour rain during my walk. California is supposed to be the state of sunshine and hot weather, not downpours and muggy skies.


I stepped into my house with my dripping jacket, muddy sneakers, and my hair sticking to my forehead. It looks like I had taken a shower and completely forgot about the part where you have to take off your clothes.


Even from the front door, I could hear Mom and Dad’s arguing from their bedroom. I rolled my eyes and tried to push out their loud voices out of my thoughts. Pushing out what people say is something I’ve grown immune to.


Once I reached the top of the staircase and was about to enter my bedroom, I heard a door slam. I looked to my left to see Dad standing in front of the door with an angered look on his face. He turns, noticing my presence and gives me a stern look. “Go to your room, Luke.”

I was going there anyways, Dad.


Once I stepped into my room, I tore off my soaked jacket and kicked off my muddy, disgusting sneakers. I threw myself on my bed and let out a long, tired sigh.


Today’s therapy session seemed to drag on longer than usual; Ashton and I didn’t have much to talk about since we still had no idea where to start when talking. He kept talking and trying to start new conversations, but I refused to talk to him. The more he talked, the more I started to get annoyed with his voice.


The thought of having to spend more of my time with him in a few hours made me want to hurl.


I understood how Ashton wanted us to try to make this Therapeutic Buddy, thing, to work out, but I had no interest in this program. Dr. Aaron forced me into this program when she knew I wanted to stay away from any human interaction this summer. Now, I have to deal with Ashton’s constant game of Twenty Questions.

Thanks Dr. Aaron, you really know how to make teenage memories! Wasting my summer with someone I don’t know is exactly what I wanted to do.

I ran my hands over my face and let out another long sigh. I was not ready to start actually talking things out with Ashton. It’s hard for me to think things out myself, but the idea of actually having to talk about things relating to Mom and Dad or even Austin wasn’t easy for me to process. I didn’t even talk with Dr. Aaron half the time about those.

What did I get myself into?

Things couldn’t be more awkward.


Luke and I were sitting in the cabin he and I agreed to meeting in outside of therapy hours since it was ‘more of his comfort’ or something. There was complete silence between us besides the sound of rain hitting the top of the cabin.


The two of us were sat on two bean bags that Luke brought out here before I arrived. Of course, Luke was typing away on his phone. I’m always curious to know what he was writing; he does this every time we’re together.


I played with a new cigarette between my fingers as a substitute for the stress ball I usually play with during therapy hours. I tried to muster up something to say but my mind was a blank; nothing came to mind.


I looked over to Luke again to see his finger still gliding across the digital keyboard of the laptop. He seemed to be really focused and into whatever he was writing. I wanted to ask about it, but knowing Luke, he wouldn’t say one thing about it.

“So,” I dragged out the o’s.

Luke turned to me. “What?”

“What do you want to talk about?”


We hadn’t talked much during therapy because we thought it would be a good idea to save something to talk about while we were in this cabin. That plan is obviously failing.


Luke tucked away his phone into his pocket and sighed. “I guess we could talk about why we’re in therapy.”

“We did that already.”

“When?”

“In therapy,”

There was a pause. “Oh yeah,”


The silence fell over us again. The small clicks of the rain on the rooftop filled the awkward tension between the two of us. Talking to someone you weren’t close with was a whole lot harder than I thought it would be.


“We could talk about each of the reasons why we’re in therapy,” I spoke up again. “Like, we go into detail of why we deal with what we deal with.”

Luke hesitantly nodded. “Alright,”


I sat up in my bean bag and thought for a moment, trying to remember exactly what Luke had said he was sent to therapy for. “You said one of the reasons you’re in therapy is because you have family issues, right?”

He nodded.


I clapped my hands together. “Alright, let’s start there. We both seem to have family issues, so I’ll tell you mine first to get the conversation going.”


I told Luke what it was like growing up in my household with my family. Mom wasn’t as bad as she is now compared to how she was when I was a kid. Dad was in the family, Mom wasn’t drinking, I was a happy kid; everything was nice. Growing up wasn’t so bad. I thought that life was going pretty well for my family and myself.

That was until I was around four or five years old.


I remember that night like it happened a few days ago. Mom and Dad were fighting in the kitchen and it turned into a nightmare really fast -- things slowly began to spiral out of control.


I could never forget when Dad told Mom that he wanted a divorce from her and that he wanted nothing to do with mom anymore. Mom was screaming and yelling and having a huge fit over the divorce. Mom and Dad’s marriage wasn’t going well anyways, so I still don’t understand why she had a total meltdown about it.


Mom began to get physical and try to hit Dad, but luckily Dad had fast reflexes and was able to stop her from even causing the smallest of bruises on him. They continued to fight and scream as if no one else could hear them. Little did they know that I was standing right next to the kitchen and was watching the whole scene go down.


Now, since I was a child, of course I was crying. Also, since I was a child, children tend to cry very loudly. My cries caught the attention of my parents and they both saw that their precious little son had witnessed the collapse of his Mom and Dad’s marriage. It was truly heartbreaking for anyone to see.


As the years went on, the divorce was filed and Mom had taken back her maiden name and made me take her maiden name as well to ‘get rid of any pieces of Dad.’ Mom took full custody of me and forced me to move out and as far away from Dad as possible. She and I moved down to Oakland and have lived here ever since I was a child. Same neighborhood, same house, same town; it’s all been the same since I was younger. Moving to Oakland was a new chapter in my life that I was ready to start. It was a new place with new possibilities.

But what I wasn’t aware of was that Oakland was where major changes in my life began to really start and effect me.


Mom’s drinking and smoking became habits that I had to deal with nearly every day growing up. I had to witness the downfall of my mother and her drinking. The years continued to drag on and her love towards me turned into hatred. I’m still not sure why she hates me, but I’m almost positive it’s because of the divorce -- she’d always say I was the reason Dad wanted a divorce and that I was too much of a hassle for him and her to take care of.


The more I talked, the more I realized how much I had just spilled to Luke. I basically told him my entire life story within the span of our first day taking the Therapeutic Buddy program seriously. I didn’t expect things to say so much about my personal life so soon. Oops.


The silence between us had risen again. I could tell Luke had been listening to every word I said -- his attention had been on me the whole time. It seemed like my words had processed through his head and connected. Well, at least I hope so.

“Have you seen your dad at all since the divorce?” Luke asked.


I shook my head. “He hasn’t contacted my mom or myself since the divorce and I have no idea where he lives now.”

Luke nodded. “Would you see him again if you were able to?”


I stopped myself before answering. I’ve never thought about seeing Dad again. He and I haven’t talked since before I was even double digits. It was something that never came to mind and never thought that I would be asked about.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I-I don’t know. It’s been so long,”


Luke nodded once again. There was a brief of silence between the two of us once again. “I guess it’s my turn?” Luke’s statement came out more as a question.

I sat in my bean bag and waited for Luke to start talking. He played with the ends of his sleeves and sat quietly for a second or two. “My parents don’t exactly get along either,” he slowly started. “They fight all the time. They’ve been fighting since my brother’s moved out when they were both around my age and haven’t stopped since.”

I was kind of surprised to hear about his brothers. “Why did they move out?”


“They hated all the fighting, which I don’t blame them for.” He fell silent again. “I would move out too, but I don’t have the money or anywhere to go.”

Another pause.

“What do they fight about?” I questioned.


“Anything and everything -- if you could think of it, they’re probably fighting about it.” He sighed, sitting back. He stared into nothing for a moment, a shy smile starting to grow on his face. “I remember this one time they fought over who’s going to buy my birthday present last year -- it was some tacky decoration meant for my bedroom -- they went on for days about it before they agreed to buy me a new phone instead.” Luke’s grin was followed with a small laugh.

I stared on the grin on Luke’s face, grinning myself. It would be hard to deny that Luke looked a lot better with a smile on his face than that bored expression. His smile was something I enjoyed looking at.

Whoa, wait, Ashton. What are you saying?


I shook my head from all thoughts that pertained to Luke’s smile. I just got out of a relationship, I shouldn’t be thinking like that. At least, not so soon.


Luke and I only spent a little while longer in the cabin, making small talk about our parents. I thought it was interesting that both of our parents relationships were in ruins and weren’t held together by much.


We both felt like there was enough conversation made for one day and decided to part ways for the day, agreeing to meet at the same time and place next Thursday. I ran through the rain and into my car. I sat in my car in silence with the sound of rain clicking against the car.


I thought over everything that just happened between Luke and I. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked we actually got somewhere with this program. We were actually talking and opening up to each other. It felt weird, but maybe this could be a good thing.

Smoke filled my lungs, breaking down my body internally but making my mind clear of any thoughts I had. I exhaled the smoke, watching the white cloud form in front of me and disappear in the air.


I’ve been home alone for at least three hours -- Mom left for work and left me home with nothing to do. Basically, this was another typical day for me.


The television was playing some television show that was obviously made with a low budget and no effort put into it. We couldn’t afford the ‘totally amazing’ cablevision, so I had to suffer with these awful TV shows.


I heard the front door open to the right of me. I turned to see Michael standing in the doorway. “C’mon, let’s go out and do something.” He said, jerking his head towards the door.

I chuckled, “Why do you always decide to walk into my house uninvited?”

Michael shrugged. “You never lock the door when you’re home alone.”

“You could’ve been a murderer coming in to kill me for all I knew.”

He held his hands up in defense. “It isn’t my fault you don’t lock the door.”


I inhaled another hit of smoke as Michael threw himself onto the grizzled couch next to me. I blew the smoke out of my lungs and turned to Michael. “Why of all people did you pick me to do something?”


Michael shrugged his shoulders once again. “Calum had to drive back to his college to get a few things he left in his dorm and everyone else in my graduating class was too annoying for me to want to talk to them. And, you’re my only other friend I have around here, so I thought you would want to hang out.”


I playfully squeezed Michael’s cheeks as if he were a small child. “Aw, little Mikey has friends!” I giggled.


He waved his hands away from me and sighed. “Could you not do that?” He tried to cover up the laughter with a tough attitude. Unshockingly, it didn’t work. “Come on, we could go to that old record store I used to work at before I got fired.”

I lowly laughed at the memory of why Michael got fired. “Didn’t you get fired because you gave some kid a huge lecture over All Time Low or something and your boss saw it as harassment?”

“The kid needed to know good music!”


Michael and I continued to go on and on about his lecture he gave to the child he met at the record store as we got into his car. I still found it hilarious that he was fired for such a reason. Michael’s a huge All Time Low fan and would drop everything to even talk about them. The fact that he went into a full on lecture about it was something I’ll never get over.


Michael drove his old corolla down the familiar roads we used to drive through before Calum and Michael left for college. And before Michael dropped out of college. Minor detail, though.


We drove through the strips of stores and small restaurants trying to find the record store we used to hang out at. I nodded my head along to the beat of the music softly playing in the background as the wind from the windows blew my hair and into my face.


Michael pulled up to the record store. We exited the car and walked into the store and was greeted by racks upon racks upon racks of CD’s and vinyl’s. Posters of older and newer bands and artists covered the walls. The ceiling was still falling apart just as I remembered it when I used to come here. The memories from sophomore and junior year slowly played in my mind as Michael and I began to flip through the CD’s.


I owned a lot of these records already since I used to come here so often. I remember blowing whatever money I had on me to purchase any album I could get my hands on. It was a simpler time, I guess.


The bell above the door rung, signaling that someone had entered the store. I ignored whoever came in because nine times out of ten, I had no idea who they were. I continued to mind my own business and look through the CD’s under the B category.

There was a tap on my shoulder. “Hey Ash,” Michael said in a quiet voice.

“Hmm?” I hummed in response.

“Isn’t that Melanie?” he said, barely a whisper.


I peered up to Michael, completely confused. He jerked his head in the direction behind us. I slowly shifted my sight to the other side of the store to see Melanie completely focused on a rack of vinyl’s, not even noticing my gaze. I let out a low sigh; why is she here?

“I haven’t seen or talked to her since the party,” I told Michael, looking back to him.

“About that,” he piped up. “What happened between you guys?”


I waved it off, turning back to the Blink-182 album I was eyeing. “Long story,” was all I replied with.


Michael returned to the line of album’s he was looking through. I pulled the Blink-182 album from it’s spot on the shelf and walked up to the register. “Would you mind scanning this up and telling me the price, please?” I asked.

The tattooed man scanned the album. “$15,”


I thought it was a little pricey for an album, but I decided not to comment about it. I reached in my pocket for my wallet, pulling out a few bucks. I sighed, “I’m a few dollars short.”

“Oh, I could pay for the rest of it,”


I turned to see Melanie behind me with a five dollar bill in her hand. She happily placed the bill onto the counter along with the rest of the cash I had. The cashier took the money, giving back whatever change I was due. He handed me a plastic bag with the album inside. “Have a nice day,” he said in a bland tone.


I looked over at Melanie with an annoyed look. She stared at me, completely confused. “What? A good girlfriend can’t help out her boyfriend?”

“A good girlfriend doesn’t sleep around with any guy she sees.”


Melanie’s jaw dropped at my statement. I only crossed my arms in response. She pulled me to the back of the store where extra posters and CD’s were stored, I guess for ‘privacy.’ “You can’t say that in public, Ash!”

“Freedom of speech.” I simply said.


Melanie rolled her eyes in irritation. “Can’t you just let that go? I was drunk, I told you that already.”


“At least when you’re drunk, you have the common sense to realize that bozo Bradley isn’t your boyfriend and you shouldn’t open your legs to him because you and him are alone.”

“I bet if you did this to me, I wouldn’t hold it against you.”


I nearly broke out into laughter at her statement. “Yeah, you would,” I snickered. “You saw me and Louise working on a physics project at school last year and nearly broke up with me because you accused me of cheating.”

“Did not,”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” I looked down to my shattered phone for the time. “Are we done here? I kind of have a life to get back to that doesn’t involve you and all your other boy toy’s.”


Melanie took a step closer to me. Our faces were only inches apart. “I’m going to get you back Ash. I know you too well to let you break up with me over this.”

I laughed again. “It’s good to know you think that.”


I turned away from Melanie and strolled over to Michael who had a Sum 41 album in his hands. He noticed my presence. “What was that all about?” he asked me.

I shrugged. “Nothing really,”


Michael let it go, knowing I won’t go into details. He placed the album back on the shelf and we both exited the store. Him and I continued to wander around throughout the strip of stores. Most of these stores had changed, so it was interesting to see which stores have left and which had moved in.


I hadn’t seen Melanie since we had ran into her at the record store which I couldn’t be more relieved about. Her and I weren’t on the best of terms and the last thing I wanted to do on one of my days away from my mother and therapy was waste it with her. I know eventually, her and I would have to talk things out, but for now I would rather keep my distance.

I sat outside the therapy building with my phone in my hand typing away in my notes app. I tried to kill some time before Mom could pick me up and take me home. She was running late since she had to cover someone’s shift. This wasn’t the first time this has happened; Mom always covered for someone’s shift. More shifts meant more money.


Sometimes I think Mom takes the extra money to help pay for my therapy and pills. I feel bad -- she’s working overtime to pay for things that I need. I wish I could pay her back somehow.


The sound of the doors behind me played and was then followed by footsteps. The familiar smell of a cigarette was all I could smell. I turned around and looked up to see Ashton staring down at me. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for my ride,”

Ashton inhaled another hit of smoke. “I could drive you home if you want.”


I sat quietly for a moment. I wasn’t sure if Ashton taking me home would be a good idea since we both don’t exactly fully get along yet and it would be awkward. What would we even do when we got to my house?

Then again, Ashton would be coming to my house later on for our Therapeutic Buddy stuff. I guess it isn’t that bad of an idea.

“Alright,” was all I said.


I stood up from my seat and followed Ashton to his car. I saw Ashton’s sedan across the parking lot as we walked towards it.


There wasn’t much conversation made on the way to the car; the only thing we heard was our shoes against the parking lot ground and Ashton’s occasional inhales of smoke.


We both got into the car and buckled our seatbelts. Ashton started up the car which also turned on the radio. The music screamed in my ears, making me jump in my seat. Ashton quickly turned the volume down and gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry,”

I took a deep breath. “It’s fine,”


Ashton drove out of the parking lot and down the same roads I took coming to and from therapy. The silence between us was filled with the music that roared in my ears just moments ago. I listened to the music since that was all I could really do.


I soon came to realization that this was a Blink-182 album. I felt a small smile grow on my lips as the song continued. Blink-182 has always been one of my favorite bands. Hearing their music on one of the days of the week I couldn’t stand was something that pleased me.

...Does that make sense?


I nodded along to the music and stared out the front window of the car. The smell of Ashton’s cigarette still filled my nostrils, even though the window was open to try and get rid of the stench. I never enjoyed the smell of cigarettes; it made me feel kind of disgusting.

“What are you smiling about?”

I turned to see Ashton glancing at me, smiling a bit himself.

“Blink’s my favorite band,” I replied casually.


Ashton nodded and returned his gaze to the road. “They’re one of my favorites too,” he said. “I like James Morrison and Green Day a little more, though.”


I was kind of shocked to hear that Ashton and I liked some of the same artists I did. Green Day and Blink, not James Morrison. I’ve never even heard of that guy before.


Soon enough, we pulled up to my home. I was thankful to see there were no cars in the driveway and I would be home alone for a while. Especially since Dad wouldn’t be home.


Ashton and I exited the car. I guided Ashton to the front door of my house. I pulled out my extra house key from my jacket pocket and unlocked the door. Before I stepped in, I turned to Ashton. “You can’t smoke in here.”


“Oh,” was all he said. He dropped the cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. I gave Ashton a disapproving look for his action. Ashton held his hands up in defense. “I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

“I never said to do it on the front porch.” I sighed.

“Sorry princess.”


I ignored the nickname that somehow stuck and won’t go away. I led Ashton into my house. I locked the door behind me and shoved my key back into my pocket. I turned to Ashton and pointed my finger to the staircase. “We could go in my room today since my parents aren’t here.”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”


He and I walked up the staircase and into the first bedroom in sight, aka my room. I pushed the door open and walked in with Ashton still following behind me. I sat on my bed and lied back. It felt good to unwind my back and stretch out after sitting in those stiff seats and on those firm couches.


I noticed Ashton was still awkwardly standing in front of my door, not knowing where to go or what to do. I chuckled to myself; it was a funny sight to see him in such an uncomfortable position. “You could sit at my desk, you know.”


I pointed to the left of me where my desk was leaned against the wall with a chair pushed into it. Ashton’s gaze followed the direction I was pointing in. “I knew that,” he said. I rolled my eyes.


There was a moment of silence between us. I stared up at the ceiling above me with nothing to say. Once again, Ashton and I didn’t talk much during therapy to save something for us to talk about during our after therapy sessions.

“So,” Ashton spoke up. “You like Blink-182?”


I nodded, even though he couldn’t exactly see my action. “I’ve liked their music for a while. I was going to see them in concert a few years ago, but things didn’t go exactly as planned.”


I was able to see Ashton perk up in his seat and send a confused expression my way. “What happened?”


I opened and closed my mouth a few times (I swear I looked like a goldfish or something when doing that). I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring up what happened. It was around the time when Austin was in my life. I didn’t like to think back to times with Austin -- it was a time in my life when I went from being on top of the world to being crushed by it.

“S-Something came up,” I cringed at my stutter. That always happened when I’m nervous.

“You’re lying.”


I sat up in my seat and looked directly at Ashton. He didn’t show much emotion; it was more a deadpan expression. “What are you talking about?” I spoke slowly.

“You’re lying,” he repeated.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

I crossed my arms. “How would you know?”


“Whenever someone’s lying, they stop talking for a moment or stutter. You did both,” he listed, not breaking eye contact with me.


I bit the inside of my cheek. I felt myself become anxious under Ashton’s gaze. I didn’t want to get into details with Austin and coming up with a lie to cover up the truth was the only thing I could come up with. I couldn’t talk about Austin; it’s too much of a sensitive topic. Even thinking about it made me sick to my stomach.


I unfolded my arms from my chest in defeat. I didn’t exactly know what to say because he was completely right. How was I supposed to follow up with what just happened, anyways? Just move on and start a new conversation? Yeah, right.


Ashton awkwardly shifted in his chair. “You do know you could tell me anything, right?” He didn’t break gaze with me. “I’ll admit, I can come off as a complete jerk sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I’m a jerk all the time. I do have feelings and I do care about other people’s feelings.”


I know Ashton was trying hard to pry answers and the truth out of me, but I don’t think he realized how much I didn’t want my answers and the truth to be spoken to and heard by someone that isn’t myself. It wasn’t what I wanted at all.


I nodded my head and sighed, “Yeah, I do. I don’t want to talk about it, though.” It felt wrong to admit that. I knew Ashton wanted his answer and I was giving him the exact opposite.


I saw a small hint of defeat wash over Ashton. “Alright,” he awkwardly said. “That’s completely understandable.”


I won’t lie; I felt kind of bad to shoot down Ashton the way I did. Well, I didn’t do it as harshly as others would, but I still completely avoided answering his question. I think the more he and I talked to each other, the more he realized how little I talk about things. Keeping the pain inside is a lot easier than trying to explain it to someone who doesn’t get it, I guess.


Ashton and I returned into our familiar silence that we always fall into eventually. I stared at my hands, twiddling my thumbs. I wasn’t really sure what Ashton was doing, but I heard one object tap another every few seconds. I glanced up to see Ashton flipping through the small stack of albums I have sitting on my desk.

“You have a lot of albums,” Ashton commented.

“Thanks, I guess.”


“We have a lot of the same music tastes in common.” Ashton continued. “My Chemical Romance, Sum 41, New Found Glory; a lot of the albums you own are the albums I have.”


I didn’t exactly know how to carry on the conversation. I mean, I thought it was interesting that he and I shared the same music interests, but everyone shares the same music interest.


“There’s a record store that I know of that’s a few minutes away. We could stop by sometime if you want to,” Ashton offered.


I thought the offer was kind of nice. I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea. I nodded. “We could go tomorrow or something.”


Ashton opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. I heard footsteps echo throughout the downstairs area of my house. “Luke?” It was Dad.


The footsteps led up the staircase and eventually met in front of my bedroom door frame. Dad looked from me to Ashton. “Who are you?”

Ashton stood up and walked over to my dad. “Ashton, sir. I’m a friend of Luke’s.” He held out his hand to my dad. Dad didn’t return the handshake, making Ashton awkwardly put his hand back to his side.

“What are you guys doing?” Dad asked.


“Uh, well,” I spoke up. “We thought we could hang out after therapy today. I thought it would be alright,”


Dad gave me a look that told me that I did something wrong that I wasn’t even aware of. To him, I did everything wrong.


Dad has always been an angry person; it’s like he’s angry every hour on the hour for no specific reason. I wasn’t even shocked that I apparently did something wrong.


“Alright,” Dad stiffly spoke. “Ten more minutes and your friend has to go. I’m going out tonight and I prefer to not be interrupted by whatever you two are up to.”

I nodded.


Dad left Ashton and I alone once more. Ashton turned to me with a hint of confusion but went against asking whatever was on his mind. It was probably what just happened. I get that question a lot.


Ashton cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll be going. I’ll just grab my phone,” Ashton hurried back over to my desk to retrieve his phone still sitting on the desk. He managed to knock over a picture frame, sending it to the floor. Ashton quickly picked up the picture and looked down to it.

He handed me the frame with an apologetic look. “I am so sorry,” he said. I grabbed the frame from his hands to see the frame had slightly broke and the corners of the photo inside the frame began to peek out.

“It’s alright,” I reassured. “It was cheap frame anyways.”


I noticed it was a photo from a while ago. It was of Austin, my brothers, and myself. I think this was taken at a birthday party or something, I don’t really remember. My arm was around Austin’s shoulder while Austin was in mid-laughter.

“Who are those people?” Ashton asked.


I looked over the photo for another moment or two before answering. “My brothers, and an old friend.”

More of an acquaintance than a friend. Not even.


I stared at the photo, trying to recall the memory. Was it a birthday party? No wait, maybe a family cook out or something. A graduation party was a possibility too; this looked like around the year Ben had graduated from college.


It wasn’t long until Ashton pulled me out of my thoughts. “I’ll just be showing myself out,” he rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”


Ashton walked out of my room with a small wave. I sent a wave back in his direction and watched him exit my room. Eventually he was out of sight and slowly became out of mind.


My eyes fell onto the photo in my hands once again. Just the sight of this picture made my stomach churn, knowing what happened to Austin and I. I’m not exactly sure why I still have this photo. I made sure to get rid of anything related to Austin when he and I cut each other out of our lives. Somehow, this photo snuck its way into staying in my life for as long as it has.


I stood up, walking over to the small trash bin next to my desk that was halfway full of crumpled papers. I held the photo frame in my hands over the trash bin. My gaze was glued to this photo as it sat between my two hands. I don’t know why I stared at it for so long.


For some reason, I slowly inched the photo frame away from the trash bin and placed it onto the desk where it originally sat before in secrecy. I don’t know why, but I didn’t want to let this photo go. Austin was something that’s always been hard for me to let go of. I thought I had eliminated everything and anything pertaining to him out of my life, but he always ends up finding his way back. I’ve always hated that about him.

Luke and I were supposed to be heading down to the record store today but he cancelled late last night. I asked him why he had a sudden change of plans, but he only replied with ‘something came up.’ I think the text said something about him having to help around the house. Something told me that that wasn’t true, but I pushed any doubtful thoughts aside. It wasn’t my business anyways.


It was a quiet Friday with nothing to do. I sat on my front porch with a half burned cigarette between my fingers. Mom was inside doing something that I had no interest in, per usual.


I had asked if Michael and Calum were up for doing something but they both said they had things to do. I was bored to say the least. I enjoyed summer vacation because that meant time away from school, but that also meant having a lot of free time on my hands. Too much at some points.


I stood up from where I sat on the porch and walked down the pathway in front of the house and onto the sidewalk. I had nothing better to do, so a walk would be the easiest thing to do to kill time.


I walked in silence with my cigarette still in hand. I kind of wished I brought my headphones with me to listen to music, but I thought that the silence was nice. It gave me space to think about whatever was on my mind.

I mean, there wasn’t much on my mind. Just what happened to Luke.


He seemed somewhat interested in the idea of heading to the record store. I was kind of happy to know he and I could do something outside of our Therapeutic Buddy schedule. I was looking forward to him and I doing something.


I slowed down my pace to realize what I was thinking. Was I really saying I was looking forward to hanging out with Luke? The twink who I couldn’t even stand being in the same room with when he and I first started this program?


I found it freaky to say the least; I was thinking positive things about this kid. I was actually happy to hang out with him. What’ wrong with me?


A loud car horn yanked me out of my never ending, questioning thoughts. I turned to see Melanie’s silver Kia pulling up to me. “Here we go again,” I muttered to myself.


Melanie stopped her car in front of me and rolled down the driver side window. “Hey Ash,” she smiled. “What are you up to?”

“I’m walking.” I bluntly said, taking another hit of smoke.


“Do you think you and I could take a drive around? Maybe go to that little cafe we went to that one time?” she asked with hope in her eyes.


She knows I hate that cafe -- the food is horrible and the service sucks. What made her think that it was a great idea to invite her (basically) ex boyfriend to somewhere he hates? The logic this girl has is incredible.


I knew denying her offer would end in her continuing to annoy me until I agreed. I sighed and walked to the passenger side of the car. I’m pretty sure Melanie had a look of satisfaction on her face.


The two of us sat in the car as she drove. Melanie filled up the silence with some story about her and her friends and what they want to do after we graduate. Graduation was still awhile away, why plan so much already? I barely knew what I was going to do next week.


I stuck my cigarette out the car window so the smoke would pollute the air outside the car instead of inside. Melanie never liked the smell of the cigarettes and always wanted me to quit. I go to therapy to try and stop smoking, but that obviously isn’t getting anywhere; I still smoke as if it were the only thing I knew how to do.

Well, I mean, it kind of is.

...Don’t comment on it, alright?


Mel and I soon pulled up to the cafe. The memories of when her and I first came here filled my mind -- we came here after Melanie failed her driving test for the first time in the beginning of junior year. She was crushed and I thought bringing her out would brighten up her day. It worked, but that one good memory still doesn’t change the fact the food here is terrible.


I threw my cigarette to the ground, stomping it out and followed Melanie into the cafe. I mentally prepared myself for whatever reason she pulled me here.


The two of us walked into the cafe and were greeted by an older, heavier man who had gray hairs littering his beard. He lead us to an empty booth for two, handing us the menu. He left us alone to pick whatever we wanted.


Melanie and I looked over the small selection of food. I went against getting whatever they served here and decided on a drink. Water was an okay choice; they couldn’t possibly screw that up.

“How have you been?” Melanie suddenly asked.

I looked up to her. “Alright,”

She went quiet for a second, looking down to her hands. “You’re not still mad at me, are you?”

There’s the question I’ve been so excited to hear!

Note the sarcasm.


I knew Melanie would want to talk about where our relationship is. Honestly, I think we’re at the point of not even being together anymore. She cheated and I caught her in the act. I don’t understand how she would think I would easily get over this.


Holding grudges isn’t typically my thing, but I don’t think this would be something I could simply pretend never happened and get over it like it’s nothing.

“Is the sky blue?” I asked her.

She scrunched her face up in confusion. “What does that have to do --”

“Is the sky blue?” I asked again, a hint of force in my voice.

“Yes?”


“There’s your answer,” I simply said. A waitress walked up to Melanie and I’s table and asked what we wanted. I only asked for a water while Melanie asked for some type of coffee.


The waitress took our menus and left us both alone once again. Melanie turned to me once again. “Are you seriously still mad at me?”

I simply nodded.


Melanie let out a small breath. “I told you that I was drunk when it happened. It isn’t like I could’ve controlled what I was doing.”


I scoffed at her claim. “You only had two drinks. You weren’t that intoxicated to not know what you were doing.”

“You don’t know how many drinks it takes me to get really drunk, Ash.”

“We’ve been together since sophomore year, I think I know you well enough to know that even that little detail.”

Melanie sat back in her seat while crossing her arms. I was being difficult which was something she hated. I knew Melanie too well and she was definitely aware of that; she couldn’t deny it.

The waitress returned with a cold glass of water and a warm cup of coffee in a small cup. I mumbled a quick thank you to the waitress. She asked if we wanted anything to eat. Melanie and I both said no. The waitress left Melanie and I alone again. I took a sip of my water and looked down to my phone.

“You’re going to have to get over it some time,” she muttered under her breath.


I nearly choked on my drink. “Get over it?” I asked her, stunned at her comment. She glanced up at me, not saying anything. “Get over my own girlfriend cheating on me with the guy who’s ruined my last three almost four years of high school? Yeah, that’s something I’ll eventually get over.”


She rolled her eyes and sat up and curled her hands around her cup. “I’m serious Ashton. I hate sitting here having you be upset with me and barely talk to me. We are boyfriend and girlfriend, not enemies.”


I stirred the water with the clear straw. I didn’t reply to what she said -- I had nothing to say, anyways. She couldn’t realize the reason I was upset with her. But when she did realize it, she claimed she couldn’t control herself.


We sat in silence for a few minutes. I occasionally took a few sips of the water while Melanie stirred the coffee with a spoon. She scrolled through her phone while I sat there with nothing to do.


There wasn’t much conversation going on between us; there wasn’t a lot to talk about anyways. It didn’t take long before we both agreed to leave and head home. I was thankful to get away from Melanie. That sounds harsh, I know, but she’s one of my lesser favorite people at the moment.


We left behind a tip and payed for the small cost that the two drinks were. We then exited the small cafe and hopped into Melanie’s car. We drove in silence -- not even the radio was on. This was better than her blabbing on about something, I guess.


We continued to ride down the road through the strip mall. I don’t know how we ended up here; the cafe we went to was a few minutes from the strip mall. We didn’t drive through the strip mall when we were on our way to the cafe.


I propped my elbow on the passenger door and placed my head on my hand, letting out a bored sigh. I watched my surroundings pass by. Thrift stores, cars, people; it moved past me in a blur. One blur caught my eye, though.


There was someone dressed in complete black. The hood of their jacket was up and they were sitting on one of the benches in front of some run down store. “Slow down,” I commanded.

“For what?” Melanie asked.

“Just, slow down.” I commanded again.


The speed of the car slowed down a bit and I was able to decipher the person on the bench. I saw the blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. It was also the same black jacket I see once a week.


“Stop the car,” I said, turning to Melanie.

“Ashton, what is your deal toda--”

“Stop the car!” I impatiently demanded.


Melanie slammed her foot on the brakes and stopped the car in it’s spot. The car came to a complete stop in the middle of the lane. “What’s so important that you’re making me stop the ca--” I stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind me before she could say anything else.


I sped across the road and onto the sidewalk, heading straight for the bench that I had my eye on since I spotted it. The black figure was staring down at their phone in their hands, typing away. That’s when I knew it was Luke.


I was confused to why Luke was out here by himself. Didn’t he say he wasn’t able to leave his home because he had to help around the house or something? I was beginning to feel as if the text he sent me this morning was a lie. I pushed all thoughts aside.


I slowed down my pace as I closed up to the bench. Luke didn’t notice me yet even when my shadow began to overcast his. I sat myself on the bench next to Luke. He slowly glanced up to look to me. “Ashton,” I could tell he didn’t expect to see me here.

“Hey,” I stiffly said.

“W-What are you doing here?”


I shrugged. “I was hanging around and saw you. I thought I should say hi or something.” I was mostly here out of confusion.


Luke nodded and looked back down to his phone. He shut off the phone before I could see what was on there. I couldn’t read it, anyways; the screen was too dim.


I shifted in my seat. “Hey,” I slowly started. “How come you cancelled on our plans today? I thought you had to help around your house or something,”


Luke fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves. “I just wasn’t feeling well this morning and my mom wanted me to help her clean a little bit. I didn’t mean to let you down or anything,”


Luke’s voice was a little uneasy which made me uneasy. I wanted to ask what was up because something was telling me that he was hiding something. I went against asking, though.


Luke looked up to me. “What have you been up to today?” He asked, trying to make conversation.

I noticed the exhausted look on his face and how tired his eyes were. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. It was a concerning sight. “Are you alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look kind of dead,”


Luke paused. “O-oh yeah,” he stumbled over his words. “I wasn’t able to sleep last night. Nothing too major though, don’t worry about it.”


I nodded, not knowing what else to say. I stood up from my spot on the bench. “I’ll see you around,” was all I said. Luke nodded as well. I walked from the bench and down the sidewalk that lined up around the strip mall.


I knew Luke was lying; he was stuttering. He seems to stutter quite often when we talk. It made me question what Luke had to hide from me. I was determined to find out what he was hiding under all the lies he says.

I sat in Dr. Aaron’s office twiddling my thumbs as I waited for Dr. Aaron to return from the talk she was having with my mom outside of the room. I couldn’t really tell what they were talking about, but I knew it was about what happened the other night. That’s the reason I’m having a solo therapy session and had to cancel meeting with Ashton for our Therapeutic Buddy session.


I forgot my phone at home which meant I couldn’t vent out how I was feeling on it. My phone has always been my private place where I could go and say whatever was on my mind and no one could judge me.


Dr. Aaron walked back into the room. I looked up to see her giving me the same sympathetic smile she gave me whenever I came here for family issues. Family issues was one of the main reasons Mom sent me here. Grief and anger were results of past situations with Austin. Actually, I think I picked up my anger issues from Dad; he’s angry most of the time. It would make sense.


Dr. Aaron sat at her desk and pulled out my file, opening it and shuffling around the papers. “How are you feeling Luke? Sad, frustrated, happy, confused?”

I shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I’m not super happy but I’m not upset either.”


Dr. Aaron nodded and jotted down something on her paper. “Your mother told me about what happened the other night with your father. Would you like to talk about it?”


I didn’t want to think about the nightmare that happened the other day. I lost so much sleep that night thanks to Dad’s yelling, my crying, and spending my night in the bathroom with my blade.

“Andrew, keep it down. Luke’s trying to sleep,”

“Luke, Luke, Luke, that’s all you care about! That sad excuse for a son,”


My phone’s volume was on full blast. I thought my headphones would break from how loud the volume was. But Dad’s yelling still overpowered Tyler Joseph’s voice. Dad was intoxicated, so he tended to yell louder than when he was sober.


I heard Mom tell Dad to quiet down once again, but Dad wouldn’t stop yapping. “At least his brothers know how to function like a normal human. This pathetic thing that you’re keeping doesn’t know how to function without taking drugs. Drugs!”


That one stung, a lot. Dad knew therapy was a sensitive topic since I was sent to therapy to receive help for problems I still blame myself for. I know he’s drunk and may not completely mean what he’s saying, but it still hurt to hear those words come out of his mouth.


Mom and Dad continued to shout back and forth, making it impossible for me to even attempt to sleep. I decided to sneak downstairs to see what was going on. I slowly crept out of my bed, taking out my headphones and placing them on my bedside table along with my phone. I delicately pushed my bedroom door open and snuck down each step, trying to make as least noise as possible.


The more I walked down the stairs, the louder Dad’s screaming became. He continued to complain about how awful his life is and how he was wanting to get out of this house and away from my mom and I as soon as possible.

Good riddance.


I was at the bottom of the staircase and took small steps towards the kitchen where the fight was still going down. I peeked in to see Mom trying to calm Dad down and trying to get the beer bottle out of his hand. He was slightly taller than her, so he held the bottle out of her reach.


Dad gulped down more of the beverage and continued to say whatever else drunk thoughts came into his mind. It wasn’t unusual to see Dad in this state; he’s acted out more and more like this as I’ve grown up. My brother’s didn’t witness these breakdowns as much as I do though since they no longer live here anymore.


Dad noticed my presence and deeply chuckled. “Well, there he is! The man of the hour, my son, my child, apparently the ‘light of my life.’ What do you need, Luke? More pills to pop?”


Mom gave me a look of sympathy and gave me small signals to go back to my room. Dad continued, “I knew you wouldn’t be like your brothers. They’re out living their lives while you’re here moping about some kid that you caused to go insane. Insane enough to try and kill himself and then make him move away! Such a disappointment. That kid could still be sane if he never met you, you know that?” He gulped down more alcohol.


It felt like a knife was stabbed right into my heart. Dad knew anything that had to do with Austin was too much of a sensitive topic for me to talk about yet he pokes at it like it’s some kind of joke.


Mom must’ve noticed the hurt expression on my face. She began to take steps towards me while I backed away from the scene. “Luke, don’t listen to him, it’s the alcohol talking.”

“I-I’m going to bed,” my voice cracked.


I forced myself back up the staircase and straight to my bedroom. I heard Mom shouting at Dad that he shouldn’t have said what he said. I shut my bedroom door and pushed out the sound of my parents yelling. It was easy since I had millions of thoughts beginning to cloud my mind.


I walked into the bathroom connected to my bedroom and immediately reached for the mirror, pulling it open. I grabbed the small, silver blade that was always there for me for comfort. I twisted it between my fingers, debating if I was really going to break the few weeks I’ve been clean. But my debate soon came to an end once I heard Mom and Dad begin to yell again, reminding me of what Dad had told me moments ago.


I know I shouldn’t listen to him since he was intoxicated when saying this and probably didn’t mean it, but it still hurt to have Austin even brought up. And to be reminded that I was the reason for his downfall was something I couldn’t handle thinking about again.


I sat against the edge of the white tub and pulled down the sleeve of my shirt. The scars from weeks ago were healed and some even beginning to fade. I hated knowing that I was ruining my streak of being clean as well as ruining my skin more than it is. I can’t help it, though. I’ve been like this for so long, it’s not easy to quit now.


I slowly started to slide the metal against my arm and let the physical pain drown out the emotional pain. The tears rolled down my cheeks as I repeated the action. I felt my body start to calm and my mind clear as I continued the action. I knew this was something I shouldn’t do, but it was too late. The emotional damage has been there for so long and the physical pain has started to help. I needed this like a drug addict needs their hit of cocaine or heroin.


I whispered small apologies to Austin, saying I was sorry for making him the way he is now. I can never get the idea out of my head that Austin is now someone completely different because I said the wrong thing at the wrong time. It hurt to know that he will never be the same. He’ll never be the Austin I knew him as. Screwing things up has always been my thing and I proved that exactly with Austin.

“Luke?”


I saw Dr. Aaron still staring at me with a concerned look on her face. I had completely forgotten that I was still in therapy.

“Do you want to talk about what happened the other night?” she asked again.

I began to slowly shake my head. “I’d really rather not,”


Dr. Aaron nodded. “Is there anything you would like to talk about? You and I haven’t been able to meet since the Therapeutic Buddy program has started. How has that been going?”


I shrugged. “It’s alright. Ashton and I have talked a few things through, not a lot, though.”

“What have you told him?”

“About my parents, that’s about it.”


Dr. Aaron nodded her head once again. She placed the end of her pen on her mouth and thought for a moment. “Are you going to tell him about any of the things you and I have talked about in the past?”


I knew she wanted me to tell Ashton more about the things that have formed me into the person I am which are all my past issues and problems. Well, the mask of a person I put on. It’s easier to wear a mask than be yourself; no one can see real emotion under a plastic covering.

I mean, my face isn’t plastic, but the metaphor is easy to understand.

Well, I hope it is.

“I don’t know if I could do that.”


“I know it’s hard Luke, but Ashton needs to know these things. I feel as if telling him about your past relationship and everything you and I have discussed before would be a benefit. He may be able to help you more than I could,”


Ashton didn’t deserve to know this much information about my life. He and I haven’t known each other long and may never speak again after this summer. He doesn’t need to know all this information about me.


Dr. Aaron and I continued to talk through what I should tell Ashton. I continued to tell her that I didn’t want to tell Ashton anything more than what he already knows, but she kept pushing me. It was annoying to be honest.


The session (finally) ended and I walked back to the waiting room to see Mom reading some magazine that must’ve been at least two months old. She noticed me and gave me a soft smile. “How did it go?”

I shrugged. “Alright; we talked about a few things, not a lot though.”


Mom and I left the waiting room, entering the elevator and headed down to the first floor of the building. We walked out of the building and into the parking lot and to her car. We piled into the car and left the parking lot. The radio wasn’t on which made the silence kind of awkward.


I thought about what Dr. Aaron said about opening up to Ashton. I knew she was only trying to help Ashton and I grow closer. And I knew he cared and wanted to help, but something told me telling him about Austin or anything else would backfire in the end. Something would go wrong, I knew it would. I can’t let him know; it’s too risky.

I sat in my car across the street from Luke’s house. I held a cigarette between my fingers with my hand hanging out the window. The car was off which meant I didn’t even have music playing in the background. It was just me, the cigarette, and silence.


I don’t know why I’m at Luke’s house. Well, I do, but I’m not sure why I went through with the idea of coming to his house to check up on him. He and I aren’t friends and he never invited me over. This was something out of my comfort zone for sure.


Luke and I haven’t seen each other since our little mishap on Thursday during therapy. It’s been at least three days since then. I couldn’t get the look of horror on Luke’s face out of my mind.


I also couldn’t stop thinking about what made him freak out and made him leave in such a rush. I had a few ideas, but I couldn’t lock in on an idea so soon. I needed more details before anything else.


I sighed, stepping out of the car and dropping my cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. I really need to start getting my smoking habits under control.


I walked up to the front door of the house. I hesitated a second before knocking. I waited a few seconds, and then a blonde woman opened the door. “May I help you?” she asked.

I slid my hands in my pockets awkwardly. “Is Luke home?”

“He went out to grab a few things. May I ask who you are?”

Oh yeah, I’ve never met his mother. Oops.


“I’m a ...friend, of Luke’s.” I plastered on a fake smile. God, I couldn’t explain how wrong it felt to call Luke a friend.


A soft smile grew on the woman’s face. “That’s great,” she says. “Would you like to come in?” She offered, stepping to the side and pulled the door open to allow me in.


I stepped into the house. The woman led me to the family room and we both sat down on the fake leather couch. I looked around the home and to say I was impressed by the house was an underestimation.


This house isn’t a mansion or is one of those expensive homes you’d find online, but it was definitely nicer than the house I lived in. The house was two stories, I could see the kitchen from the family room and it’s huge, their family room is beautiful; it’s the kind of house I could only dream of.

“So,” the woman pulled me out of my thoughts. “How did you and Luke meet?”

“We met in therapy.”


The woman nodded. “It’s nice to know that Luke’s getting out there again and socializing with kids his own age. I didn’t think he would want to socialize after everything that happened with Austin,” she sighed and looked down to her lap. “It’s still something he doesn’t know how to properly cope with.”


I was hit with a completely new wave of confusion. This was something I was probably not supposed to know, but now that his mother had mentioned it, I couldn’t help but become more and more curious.

“What exactly happened?” I asked.


The woman lightly chuckled. “I don’t know if I should talk about this without Luke. It’s more of his situation than mine.” She paused. She looked over to a picture frame that was sat on a side table next to her side of the couch. A grin forms on her face. “It was a simpler time in our life, especially for Luke. He wasn’t on meds, he didn’t have to go to therapy, he had friends; if only things stayed like that for longer.”


The atmosphere was very ...down, I guess you could say. Whatever Luke’s mother was talking about, it was surely something that was hitting a nerve.


The front door opened and closed. Footsteps walked into the family room and those footsteps belonged to the one and only Luke. He had a plastic bag in his hand. And of course he was wearing that black jacket. He looked me up and down in disgust. “What is he doing here?”

“Oh, your friend came to visit.” His mom answered.

“Friend’s a strong word,” he mumbled.


“Why don’t you show your friend your room?” his mother offered. I could tell by the look on Luke’s face, he really wanted to say no and kick me out, but he agreed to his mother’s statement.

Momma’s boy? Maybe.


Luke led me up the staircase of the house and into the first entrance we saw. We both walked in and I was surprised to see his bedroom. It was a lot cleaner than mine; he didn’t have clothes all over his flood unlike mine.

Luke closed the bedroom door behind us and sat himself on his bed. He looked up to me. “What do you want?”


I sighed and leaned against the closed bedroom door, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want to know what happened on Thursday at therapy.”

Luke stiffened a bit but I could tell he tried to brush it off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”


“Alright, let me refresh your memory,” I said, giving up on the part of the conversation that was obviously going nowhere. “I grabbed onto your wrist and you looked like you were about to pass out or something. Then right after that, I tried to ask if you were okay and you just ran out of the room like the building was on fire or something.”


Luke stared at me with a stern expression. I saw how he slowly tugged his sleeves over his hands, creating sweater paws. “That’s something for me to know and for you to keep yourself out of.”


I deeply sighed and walked over to the bed. I sat myself down next to Luke who still had a grim look. “You’re going to eventually have to tell me. We’re each other’s ‘Therapeutic Buddies’ and we have to talk to each other or else we’ll get into more trouble.”

“I know,” he shrugged.

“Then why are you making us get into trouble? All you have to do is talk to me.”

“I am talking to you.”

I gave Luke a disapproving look. “You know what I mean.”


The more I talked to Luke and urged him to open up to me, the more I realized how much this situation matched up to how I acted with Dr. Roland. Luke won’t tell me a single thing which is what I do with Dr. Roland. Now I understand why Dr. Roland is frustrated with me throughout 90% of our sessions.


Luke shrugged again. “I know you don’t care about what I have to say so there’s no use in talking to you.”

“Who said I don’t care?”

Luke snorted, “It’s pretty obvious; you and I fight almost all the time and we don’t get along. You also don’t care about the program so that makes it pretty clear that you don’t care about me. And I don’t care about you, so we’re even!” He clapped his hands together and stood up, walking to the opposite side of the room.

“You’re really hard to talk to, you know that?” I stood up as well, sighing. “All I ask from you is to talk to me. At least tell me what happened at therapy a few days back.”

“I told you, that’s my business and my business only.” He simply said.


I felt the frustration start to rise inside of me. I was really trying to talk to Luke, but he was making this situation harder than it needs to be. He’s avoiding everything I’m saying and won’t talk to me at all. I could talk to a wall and get more of a conversation than talking to Luke.

“What will it take to get you to talk to me?” I asked, trying to reason with Luke.

“Haven’t I made it simple enough that I don’t want to talk?” he harshly said.


I ran my fingers through my hair stressfully. “You don’t realize how hard I’m trying here, Luke. I want to get somewhere with you and start talking instead of avoiding each other as much as we can. Dr. Roland and your therapist are onto us that we’re getting nowhere.”


Luke stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest without saying a word. I wasn’t sure if he was pushing out everything I was saying or actually listening to me for once.


I continued, “If you’re not comfortable with telling me what happened at therapy, then that’s fine, I completely understand that. All I want is to at least talk about what makes you angry (since you have anger issues, from what you told me) or at least what you do when you’re at home. I don’t know, whatever we talk about with our therapists, we’re supposed to talk about those things with each other.”


Luke looked down to his shoes, still not saying anything. I think what I said was actually starting to get through his mind and make sense. That’s a first.


“Here, I’ll start,” I spoke up again. “Uh, when I was sixteen, I snuck some of my Mom’s alcohol into my bedroom while she was asleep and drank a whole bottle. I was drunk for the first time and I loved it. I’ve been sober for nearly a year but I still go to therapy for drinking.”


I don’t know why I started with the first time I drank alcohol, but it was the only thing I could think of. It’s quite a charming story, I know. It’s a story to tell my future kids.

Note the sarcasm.


Luke’s eyes shifted up to meet mine. He still had the same bored expression on his face. I feel like Luke doesn’t experience any other emotion besides complete and utter boredom.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well, what?”

“Do you think you could at least try as much as I am to make this whole program thing work?” I asked, hope in my voice. “It’s just one summer. Three months of us dealing with each other and we’ll never have to see each other ever again.”

Luke continued to stare at me. I stood in my spot waiting for some sort of response or answer from him. I expected a no or a ‘yeah right’ as an answer since that’s all he knows how to say to me.

Luke sighed. “Fine.”

...what?


“I’ll try this Buddy thing, I guess,” he mumbled. “But don’t think that I’m doing this to become ‘best friends.’ I’m only doing this to get you and our therapists off our back. Think of it as charity work.”


I mentally rolled my eyes but kept a stern face. At least Luke was finally going to try and work with me. This was possibly going to be the one and only time Luke and I could agree on something. Well, kind of.


“But,” he spoke up again. “I don’t like talking in that therapist office; I feel like we’re being watched even if your therapist isn’t there and it creeps me out.”


He doesn’t want to talk ...in the therapist office? Is he really being a diva over where we can and can’t talk based on where he does and doesn’t like going? Luke was a true piece of art, let me tell you that.

“Then where are we supposed to go?”


Luke waved me over to his window on the opposite of the room. I followed behind him and stood in front of the window. Behind his house was a whole lot of trees and plants. It looked like smaller version of a woodsy kind of area.


Luke pointed at the window. “There’s a small house, cabin kind of thing out there. It’s somewhere I went when I was younger. It’s a whole lot more private than the therapist office.”


I thought it was interesting that Luke had a little hideout from the rest of the world. I understood where he was coming from with the privacy aspect of the cabin -- we wouldn’t have Dr. Roland or Luke’s therapist popping in in the middle of our sessions and it was somewhere only the two of us would go to talk about anything. It wasn’t a bad idea, to be honest.

I nodded. “Alright. When do you want to start meeting there?”



Luke thought for a second. “We could go there after therapy on Thursdays since we see each other on Thursdays anyways. I don’t want to see you one more than I have to.”


I ignored Luke’s last comment. From the time I’ve known Luke, I’ve picked up that he has a tendency to drop insults and offensive statements whenever he gets the chance.


I left Luke’s house as soon as I could. The tension between us was awkward and I didn’t want to stand there for more time than needed. All I had to do at this point was mentally prepare for being alone with Luke outside of therapy. Sigh.

I stared at the night sky above me and counted the stars. I kept losing count and had to start over a few times. There’s so many out there, I wonder what the exact number of stars there are.


I was sat on my front porch waiting for Calum to show up. Mom was already asleep which meant I would have to stay quiet enough for her to not wake up. She’s one of the lightest sleepers alive. I could be across the globe and drop a pencil and she would still wake up.


I continued to count the stars above me as a distraction from what was really on my mind. Of course, it was what went down with Luke. I can’t get the anger in his eyes out of my head. His voice still echoed in my mind. I still can barely believe that I even thought about looking in his phone.

Stupid Ashton, you’re real stupid.


A car pulled up in front of my house. Calum stepped out of the car and let out a low chuckle. “Well you look stressed.”

I sighed. “Thanks, I guess.”


Calum walked to the porch and sat himself next to me. I saw him glance at me in the corner of my eye. “Something happen?”

I only nodded.

“What’s up?” Calum patted my back. “Talk to me,”


I propped my elbow on my knee and placed my chin in my hand. “I think I messed things up with Luke,”

Calum’s face scrunched in confusion. “That blonde twink?”


I nodded again. “Yes, that blonde twink,” I sat up straight and turned to Calum. “I-I know I told you and Michael that he bothered me and I want nothing to do with him. Luke and I got to know each other and we kind of started to get close and I won’t lie when I say he started to grow on me.”

Calum stayed quiet for a moment. “What happened that you messed up?”


I stayed quiet for a second. I stared at my hands sitting on my lap and collected my overflowing thoughts. “I may have ...snooped through his phone.”


Calum snorted. “That’s creepy, Ash.” I stared at Calum with an annoyed look. I didn’t appreciate the comment to say the least. I know what I did was creepy but a reminder wasn’t very necessary. Calum awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sorry,”


“I will just pretend like that comment didn’t happen,” I mumbled. “Anyways, I know it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I was curious, alright?”

“That doesn’t give you the right to sneak in his phone, though.”


“I know, it was a stupid move and he probably hates me for it.” I groaned. I dropped my head in my hands and let out an irritated breath. I felt Calum pat my back as a way of comfort, I guess. Comforting was never really Calum’s thing.


Calum and I sat in silence for a few minutes. I heard those annoying crickets keep chirping which was slowly starting to drive me insane. They never usually bothered me but right now, all I wanted was for those things to shut up.


I heard Calum let out a sigh and felt him remove his hand from my back. “Did you find anything out that you weren’t supposed to?”

I shamefully nodded, making Calum sigh again in disapproval.

“I found out about some guy named Austin that he freaked out about.”


“Then I would see why he freaked out,” Calum said. “This Austin guy must’ve meant a lot to the blonde twink.”

“Luke,”

“Right, him,”


He continued, “If he freaked out that you found out, then he probably didn’t want you to find out in the first place. Maybe ...maybe give him some time to himself. He’s mad at you and probably doesn’t want to see you anyways.”

I gave Calum an annoyed look. “Thanks,”


Calum held his hands up in defense. “Just trying to help,” Calum ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Anyways, give him some space. He needs time to ...process everything that happened with you guys, I guess. I don’t know where I’m going with this,”

There was a pause before Calum spoke up. “Why do you care so much, anyways?”

“What do you mean?”


“Well,” he slowly began. “When you first told Michael and I about this Luke guy, you sounded like you really hated him. Now that you crossed a line with him, you’re all torn up about it. What’s up with the sudden change of heart?”


I opened my mouth to say something but shut it quickly. I didn’t exactly know how to answer that question. Calum had a point that I totally forgot about.


“Uh,” I stammered. “I ...He grew on me, I guess. I-I don’t know. We hung out kind of often in therapy and for our Therapeutic Buddy sessions and I guess I started growing a liking towards him. I thought we were friends, sort of, and I don’t want to lose him as a friend or acquaintance or something before I can really learn more about him. I worked hard for him to open up and he’s pushing me away like he did when we first met.”

That was a good explanation, right?

I hope so.


Calum and I sat in silence for a few more minutes. The streetlights around us were the only things giving us some sort of light not counting the flickering porch light behind us. I really should change that; it’s annoying to see the light flicker.


I heard Calum’s phone vibrate from where it sat on the porch. He grabbed it and read whatever text popped up on the screen. “It’s my sister,” he sighed. “My mom noticed that I snuck out. I should probably get back home before she really starts to lose it.”


Calum stood from where he sat and started to make his way to his car. He turned to me and noticed the distressed look still on my face. “Everything’s going to be alright, Ash. And if anything happens, text me or something.”


I nodded and watched Calum walk to his car and hop in, driving off to his house where his parents were probably getting ready to attack Calum. Calum sneaks out a lot, why even bother scolding him over it anymore? I never understood his parents.


I was now left alone once again on the porch. I stared back up at the stars and counted them once again as an attempt to distract my mind from any worrying thoughts that came to mind. Maybe there were more stars than issues in my life.

No, definitely not possible.

I haven’t shown up to any Therapeutic Buddy meetings in over a week. I haven’t really attended my regular therapy sessions either. Ashton and I weren’t on good terms and we went out of our way to avoid each other. More of me avoiding Ashton than Ashton avoiding me. Or maybe Ashton was avoiding me too. Who knows?


Dr. Aaron keeps calling Mom to ask why I haven’t been showing up to therapy. Mom would keep telling me to attend therapy, I tell her I do, but in reality I was ditching therapy and go somewhere else to waste my time. Mom rarely drove me to and/or from therapy, anyways.


I would tell Mom I walked to therapy, but I really walked to some random park or woods or anywhere that wasn’t therapy. I wasn’t up for talking to Dr. Aaron because I knew she would, once again, spend forty five minutes of my life asking me about my meds and why I won’t tell Ashton anything else besides how much my parents fight.

Maybe she’ll be happy to hear that Ashton knows everything she wants me to tell him.


I was still pretty annoyed over the fact that Ashton snooped through my phone and read what I wrote on there. Everything written in my phone was personal emotions and thoughts I had. It was the only place I knew I could express whatever was on my mind without getting questioned for it or have yet another pill be added to my life. It felt wrong in so many ways to know that those words were read by someone else.


Obviously, I avoided Ashton out of anger due to the fact that he invaded my one piece of privacy from the world. But, I think I mostly avoided him to talk about what was written in my phone and why I wrote what I wrote. A lot of the things I wrote about were (of course) related to everything that happened with Austin. Austin was something I’m trying to get over. I don’t think dwelling into my past with someone I can’t trust is the best idea.


I knew Ashton wouldn’t want to move past what he read in my phone until he really knew what was happening with me and why I wrote what I wrote. That was one thing I hated about being paired with Ashton for this Therapeutic Buddy program; Ashton pushed and pushed until he got answers out of me.


I don’t know when I’ll talk to Ashton again. Maybe if I ignore him long enough, he’ll leave me alone and lose contact with me. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I think I’ll do that.


I layed on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was actually quiet; there was no fighting because my parents were both out of the house. This only ever happened every once in awhile. I took in all the silence I could before Mom and Dad came home.


I held my phone in my hand and unlocked it. I opened my notes app and stared at the notes I had written over the past few months. Thoughts on thoughts were built up over the time that I’ve actually written these notes. I remember when I thought it would be easier to put my thoughts in here because no one else could read it.

Oh Luke, if only I knew that that wasn’t true.


A thought came into my mind about deleting these notes and getting rid of them. One voice was telling me that that would be a good idea since it would help me let go of the past and help get over my past situations. But another voice told me that deleting these thoughts wouldn’t do any good for me.


My finger hovered over the delete button. I slowly clicked the button. A pop up message came up, asking me Delete Note? I stared at the Delete and Cancel buttons. My eyes shifted between both selections.


Believe me when I say that I wanted to hit the Delete button. I really did, but something kept pulling me back to the Cancel button instead. Deleting the notes would do so much good for me, but I knew that deleting the notes would also rip huge chapters of my life out of my phone and slowly out of my life.


My pathetic self made the pathetic move of hitting Cancel. The pop up message went away and left me staring at my months of thoughts and feelings once again.


I dropped the phone to my side and let out a long breath. These bad memories are still tightly tied around me. They’re like a noose around my mind, slowly killing me every day. The noose gets tighter and tighter as the days go by and the thoughts and emotions hurt me more and more. It sucks being a prisoner in my own mind.


I wish Austin and I’s past would leave me alone. I don’t know why the memories won’t leave me. I’ve tried every remedy (or whatever it’s called) Dr. Aaron and everyone around me has recommended but nothing’s worked. I want to live my life without having the past haunting me and bringing me down everywhere I go. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be tied to these memories. I don’t even know how much longer I can take being tied to these memories.

All I want is to be free.