Heather

After school, I do my homework at the kitchen table. I decide to take a study break when my phone lights up with Ali's picture. I answer the call and prepare myself for the interrogation about my breakup with Fletcher.

I'm surprised to hear Ali say,"I'm so sorry, Heather."

"Oh, thank you." I add, "For what exactly?"

"For bringing up the private business between you and Fletcher. You've got to understand that I didn't mean for my comments today to break you two up."

"Ali, don't worry. It was going to end anyways. Being more than friends just didn't feel right."

"Did you tell him that?" She asks, clearly intrigued to hear more gossip. I keep this in mind as I carefully let information pass my lips.

"Yes, I did."

"So it has nothing to do with your steamy affair with Faulkner? That boy really took a beating for you."

I suck in a deep breath before I deny her accusation. "No. It had nothing to do with Faulkner. I'm not interested in him and nothing happened on Saturday night."

"Really? That's not what he told me. You know, I could see two together."

"Ali, you have no idea what you're talking about." I hint for her to drop the topic.

She's taken aback. "Well, I'm going off of what my friend Faulkner told me. Clearly, I wasn't in the bedroom with the two of you, but there had to be something to get you up there in the first place."

Yeah. Sheer force on Faulkner's part and the prospect of buying drugs. Neither reason would satisfy Ali's curiosity.

Instead, I reply, "Well, I'll tell you it didn't go well on my part, so I don't want to talk about it."

"What do you mean it didn't go well?"

Warily, I say, "Well, he sort of forced himself on me."

"What? That's crazy. Faulkner does a lot of sketchy things, but he would never do that." She defends him.

I sigh in defeat. "Well, he did. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Let's talk about something else."

Ignoring me, Ali continues, "Heather, he told me that you were into him. I've known him for years. He wouldn't lie to me. I'm telling you he wouldn't do anything—"

I interrupt her, realizing I'm not going to convince her. "Hey, Ali. I've got to go. I'm getting some bad period cramps, so I need to go lay down."

"Alright. Well feel better," she says, conceding to my lie.

I sit at the kitchen table contemplating the conversation I just had with Ali. I understand her inability to see who Faulkner truly is since he's been her friend for years. But, if she's going to talk to me like that and not believe me when she claims to be my friend, then I'm going to have to reevaluate our friendship.

Unable to complete my work for the next day, I go through the nightly routine with Max. When he comes in from using the bathroom, I give him a treat.

Then, I retreat to my bedroom to make the dreaded phone call. Max happily trots behind me, the treat safely in his stomach. His ears flop up and down as he strides down the hall beside me until we reach my room. Then, he takes his place in his dog bed to curl up for a nap.

I flop back on my bed and scroll through the blocked contacts until I find the familiar digits.

Still conflicted on whether this is a good idea or not, I allow my fingers to press unblock and then the call button. My heart is beating fast with each ring as I wait for him to answer. The line picks up, but there's a few agonizing seconds of silence.

"Heather," I hear Ryder's voice say with a hint of relief. "How have you been?"

Getting straight to it, I say, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Disappointed I'm not in the mood for small talk, he says, "Well I know Mac's probably told you about the trouble I've been in." I don't respond, so he takes that as confirmation and keeps talking. "It feels so good to hear your voice. It used to get me through the tough shit. And I've been in a lot of that recently."

"What's going on?" I ask, allowing my guard to drop slightly at the beaten tone in his voice.

"I've made a lot of mistakes. Got behind the wheel when I shouldn't have. That led me to court-ordered rehab and now I've been clean for a month."

I try to hide my skepticism, but it still comes through. "Really? Completely clean?"

"Well, I mean I have a drink or two occasionally, but I'm not mixing substances like I used to."

Next, I ask the most important question. "Are you still hanging out with Caleb and Jason?"

"I didn't see them for the first two weeks, but we've started hanging out again. I certainly didn't make any friends in rehab and you wouldn't talk to me so I got lonely." He has a point, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't drop those guys.

"They're the ones who led you down this path, Ryder. If you keep hanging out with people from high school, you're never going to grow up."

"Heather, I don't have anyone else." His voice softens and I can hear how depressed he's been.

Trying to be optimistic, I suggest, "Go out and make friends, then. Caleb and Jason have always bailed on you when the drugs ran out. Those two aren't good friends."

"But they're friends. Being alone in rehab made me appreciate the simpler things. They aren't the best, but it's people to have fun with. I need some fun after all of this has happened. We get together a couple times a week and have a few beers."

"But you're not driving under the influence, right?"

There's a moment of silence as he thinks about his DUI. "No. I lost my license so one of the girls drives me around."

"Oh. One of the girls?"

He chuckles into the receiver. "Just someone I've hung out with a little. Why, jealous?"

"Absolutely not." I say with a soft laugh.

Ryder gets quiet for a second and then asks, "Be honest. Have you been seeing anybody recently?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yeah, actually. I'm seeing someone now."

"You've only been there for a month. But I'm not really that surprised, you've always been such a little slut." He chuckles, playing the comment off as nonchalance.

His comment leaves me speechless, But he doesn't miss a beat, saying, "You're lucky that I'm still interested in you. If I was there right now, I would be all over you. I still think of you as my girl."

A knot in my throat tightens as he refers to me as his. When I don't respond, he resorts to small talk again. "Tell me about school. And Idaho."

"It's good. I'm just working my butt off so I can get back to L.A. and go to USC." I tell him, although I'm not really in the mood for small talk after his previous comments. I want to keep the peace in the conversation, though.

"It'll be nice to have you back around. I've wanted to call you so many times recently. There have been nights that I've—" Ryder's voice breaks. I know what he's about to say. It's been my number one worry since we broke up, especially when I heard about the DUI.

He never finishes his sentence, but I know. He starts again, "I thought hearing your voice might help. But at the same time, as soon as you hang up, it's going to send me deeper into that void."

I wonder for a moment what's going to happen tonight when we hang up. I certainly don't plan to talk to him all night long, but I'm afraid of what he might do to himself.

"You know, not being able to talk to you has been killing me." He pauses for a moment, driving his point home for me. "Your voice calms me down and I need you," he says wistfully. Then, his tone veers more towards jealousy. "The thought of you with someone else sucks. It makes me feel like the love between us was just a lie for two years."

"Ryder—don't." I warn.

"I'm sorry. I always say the wrong thing. I don't want to lose you again. I'll die if that happens on top of everything else I'm dealing with. I need you." His voice pleads.

Detached, I say, "Look, I've really got to go to bed. I have school tomorrow."

"Oh, well goodnight." He sucks in a breath as if in pain. "This was nice. I hope we can do it again sometime." I don't respond, so he says, "Sorry if I wasted your time."

"Goodnight, Ryder," I say, hanging up the phone. I feel my walls come up again as soon as the call ends. As a defense mechanism, I roll my eyes at the conversation. It started about his real problems and then turned into a pity party about our breakup which is long gone. Although I still care for Ryder as a concerned friends, my feelings for him are long gone. It makes me a little uncomfortable that his feelings for me are still so strong.

Now he's gotten into my head with all of these statements of "I need you" and "I don't want to lose you again." It makes me feel guilty, even though I have no more feelings for him.

As if I created all the problems that led to the breakup. As if I asked him to cheat on me and then quickly changed my mind when it happened. I didn't ask for any of it. And I certainly didn't deserve it, either.

I wish I could be more numb about the whole situation. Instead, I accept the worries rushing through my mind about what he said earlier. It puts too much pressure on me to insinuate that he's going to be depressed when I hang up the phone. I mean, we aren't dating anymore. I am not obligated to stay on the phone all night with him to make sure he doesn't kill himself.

But not knowing what he's doing now makes me worry that he's going to resort to that. If I ever get that call telling me that he's ended his life, I'm going to freak out. I would know it's not my fault, but I also can't help but feel like it partially is.

This conversation was a mistake. I should have listened to Mac and Kayne and left it alone. Now he has false hope and who knows what trouble that's going to get us in.

I bring my knees to my chest so I'm positioned in a ball. Max crawls under the blanket so he's lying against my legs. I've learned that is how he likes to sleep. It's a comforting constant to have him against me every night.

Ryder's comments about dating come to the front of my mind. I'm astonished that he made such a big deal about me dating someone. It's none of his business anymore. Calling me a slut—even in a joking manner like he did—crossed the line.

I could have cringed and thrown up at the same time when he said he still thinks of me as his. And trying to attribute my dating other guys to not having feelings for him during our relationship. He may not be using drugs, but he's high on something for sure.

My phone buzzes. I glance at the message on the screen.

Kayne

Hey, you good?

I ignore the message. Not because I'm mad at Kayne, but because tonight I'm so done with men—Faulkner, Ryder, Fletcher.

Fletcher who is the nicest guy, but just not the right one.

Ryder's words replay in my head. I'm too upset to cry or sleep. So, I turn on an ambient rain noise and let myself slip into my own familiar void.

My phone buzzes again as another message comes in.

Kayne

Heather?

Again, I turn the phone over without responding. Then, I slip back into the void where I plan to stay until the morning.