Use Somebody

by Riley Jean

  Tears formed in my eyes. A tortured whimper escaped my throat.

  I thought I knew numbness. I thought I knew pain. But I was so, so wrong.

  His heartache ate away at me like acid. The hurt I was causing him—my friend, the best person I had ever known—burned a hole right through the deepest layers of my flesh. He looked nothing like the carefree boy who had befriended me in an ice cream shop so many months ago.

  He’d become a mirror image of me.

  When had everything gotten so messed up? The day I convinced myself our relationship could survive this compromise? Was it in the beginning, the very first sip? I never had any business trying to make this work. All along I’d known it was wrong. And yet I’d damned us both.

  I wasn’t stupid. Why did I do such stupid shit?

  Some people lived their lives without shame, doing whatever they wanted, not caring about the damage they inflicted or who they hurt. Not me. I carried my remorse each and every day. Cursed with regrets and guilt and internal conflict. Collapsing under the burden of a conscience.

  Cole’s words drifted back to me… “If you’re going to leave him, the least you can do is let him go for good.” I made my decision and I chose Texas. Now I had to stand by it. He said he was willing to fight for us—ready to do whatever it took to have me. Now I had to do whatever it took to let him go. For his sake, I had to give it my all.

  And the answer was clear. There was only one thing I always knew he’d never settle for… sharing my heart.

  I was leaving anyway. What else did I have left to give him, but his freedom?

  My red eyes looked directly at him as I whispered through trembling lips the only truth that I knew, “I’m sorry.”

  His grip tightened for several seconds, then his hands fell away. My knees fell to the dirt. I didn’t know it was possible, but any pieces that remained of my heart were somehow breaking yet again. As if my concept of hope wasn’t already sufficiently desolate.

  The sound of my soft whimpers were drowned out by the heaviness of his retreating footsteps.

  The year ended much like it began—utterly alone.

  * * *

  “Isn’t this your last shift at Mooshi, Scar?” Summer asked, all too brightly.

  It was no mystery that things between Vance and I were icy cold upon his return. He was making chocolate dipped waffle cones (even though we totally had way more than enough) just so he could keep his back to me the entire time we worked. His body was visibly laden with exhaustion. The first thirty excruciating minutes of our shift crawled by.

  Luckily Summer hung around to keep us company. Oh yay. I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if she started dancing around singing me bitter Taylor Swift songs.

  “Yes, Summer. Try not to miss me too much.”

  He still didn’t know anything about Texas, and I wanted to keep it that way. It was the only way he’d ever let me go.

  “Funny you should mention that…”

  I shot her a look. Cole promised not to blab about our conversation to Vance. But I could tell by Summer’s subtly spiteful grin that she knew. If she thought revealing the truth would only hurt me, she was gravely mistaken.

  She rubbed her palms together ceremoniously. “I was looking on Pinterest and found the cutest ideas for your going away party!”

  “Summer,” I warned.

  “In honor of you moving back to Texas, we are going to celebrate cowgirl style!”

  Damn her. She did that on purpose.

  My anxious eyes shifted to Vance. It might have just been my imagination, but I could’ve sworn I saw every individual muscle in his back and shoulders grow tense, one at a time.

  Oh, if silence could talk…

  I watched him, wondering if he would turn and face me. Wondering what he would say. Wondering if he was still mad enough about my deception to let me go without a fight.

  The quiet imploded with a loud crunch of waffle cone, and subsequent pieces rained down from his hands.

  All he gave me was one word:

  “Texas.”

  Nope. I tried. But I couldn’t do this. I wiped my hands on my apron and backed away from them both, making my way past without looking up. In my trembling haste, I gathered my purse and keys in the back as my final shift at Mooshi came to an end three and a half hours early.

  But fast as I moved, I couldn’t stop myself from overhearing.

  “She’s moving?” Vance said, his voice so low I barely heard it.

  How many times was he going to hurt because of me?

  “Yep!” Summer replied cheerfully. “In one week!”

  I pushed the back door open with a loud crack and hurried to make my escape before the rest of my guts spilled out all over the pavement.

  * * *

  [Journal]

  Scar: A wound that leaves you disfigured. Maybe it heals. Maybe eventually it doesn’t even hurt anymore. Still, it’ll always be there, a constant visual reminder that you’ll never again be quite right.

  * * *

  Senses Fail. A pillow over my face. Weary from this search for unattainable answers, constantly drifting out of reach… A dark bedroom that would only be mine for six more nights.

  Hollowness bled through my entire body and overtook my anticipation for moving. I didn’t care to see anybody or do anything. I wanted nothing beyond the monotony my life had been before that damned ice cream shop ever came along. I wondered if I could just lay here alone until the week was up.

  “Care to explain yourself young lady?”

  I lifted the pillow off my face but did not get up. Half-lidded eyes slid listlessly to the doorway of my bedroom where my mother stood with pursed lips. I didn’t like her seeing me like this again. But at the moment I didn’t have it in me to pretend.

  I repositioned the pillow back over my face.

  “Scarlett Rossi!” she scolded. When I didn’t respond she marched in, turned off the music and stole my pillow. Rude. “What are you all worked up about now? Get up this instant and make yourself presentable! You have a guest.”

  “A guest?” I whispered.

  “I think he’s taken a shine to you. Don’t keep him waiting.” She proceeded to pick through my closet for an entirely new outfit and also found my makeup and hair accessories. I repressed an eye roll and dragged myself out of bed. I was surrounded by persistent people. And I didn’t have the heart to argue tonight. So I complied.

  As if I were a child, she slid the old rhinestone clips into my faded black curls and fluffed some life back into them, after handing me a tube of mascara and lip gloss. My movements were lifeless and mechanical. Obediently, I ran the wand through my lashes and the gloss over my lips, which was difficult to do while avoiding eye contact with the strange creature in the mirror. I felt disgust and disappointment in her cruel taunts.

  That’s right. My own reflection judged me.

  “Like a swan, dear,” my mother reminded me.

  I ignored her too.

  * * *

  “Here she is!” my mother sang as she steered me by the shoulders down the stairs and towards the front door.

  Vance stood in the entry way with his hands in his pockets. It’d been several hours since I ran out on our shift. He must have just finished and come straight here. He still wore all black, only the neon Mooshi apron had been discarded. At least we weren’t scheduled to close tonight.

  We wore matching expressions—polite, but only on the surface.

  “Thank you Mrs. Rossi. I wanted to fill Scarlett in on the plans we’ve made for her going away party.”

  “Party?” she asked.

  “It’s not every day one of your best friends up and leaves for Texas. We couldn’t let her go without giving her a proper send off.”

  “Of course,” said my mother, sounding apologetic, “I suppose it was last minute.”

  Finally his gaze shifted to her and I watched his expression fall just the tiniest bit, as if he was hoping it was all just another li
e. “I… I was wondering if Scarlett could come walk with me? I promise to have her back before dark.”

  “Won’t that be lovely,” my mother replied.

  That’s right. Go ahead you two. Carry on making plans as if I weren’t here.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Rossi.”

  He shook her hand and she beamed, impressed by his manners. Vance was the first male visitor I’d had in this house since Miles. No doubt her motherly mind was eager to jump to romantic and foolish assumptions. Based on first impressions, I’m sure Vance Holloway was exactly the kind of son-in-law she always hoped to have. Hell, based on knowing him all this time, even I hadn’t found a single trait any parents could possibly disapprove of. Even a stickler like my father.

  Well, so long as the lights stayed on.

  “Likewise, Vance. Scarlett will join you in just a moment.”

  Ever the gentleman, he took his cue and headed out to the porch. I stayed behind, waiting for yet another unsolicited opinion. It wasn’t enough that I had to hear it from Gwen and Cole. No. He had to get my own mother on his side, too.

  I folded my arms over my chest and prepared to face the music. “What, mother?”

  But when I looked up, I found her wearing an odd expression.

  “Scarlett… why didn’t you tell us you had friends?”

  * * *

  As I stepped out onto the porch, I prepared myself for his anger, his hurt, maybe even his pleading. With what miniscule amount of fight I had left, I was determined to stay strong. I couldn’t let him sway me. All I had to do was get through tonight. Then five more nights. Then I’d be gone.

  However the look on his face wasn’t anything I’d prepared for.

  Numbness.

  Vance Holloway… was numb.

  Pain inflamed my already broken heart. I couldn’t stand seeing him this way. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! Maybe I was a childish fool for thinking it. But I wanted it to be. For him. I needed him to be okay. I deserved to suffer, but he did not.

  I never wanted to hurt him like this. I never wanted to drag him down into this pit of despair. He was happy before he met me. Now to his detriment, he knew pain. And it was all my fault. I taught him what it truly meant to love, all at the expense of his heart.

  What was I supposed to do? Yell at him? Slam the door in his face? I was so tired of hurting Vance. Too tired to push him away anymore. I just didn’t know how else to fix it.

  He spun back around and started walking. I bowed my head and fell into step right behind him. Blocks and blocks I followed dutifully without either of us speaking a word.

  We ended up back at the old park and both took a seat on the swings. He remained stationary. I began moving. Slowly at first. Then faster. Pulling my body. Pumping my legs. High and higher until I could see everything, everything in the whole park… everything except a solution.

  Nothing seemed to work like it used to. Not pancakes. Not Ricky. Not music or writing. Not even the wind in my hair as I flew back and forth. I felt gutted. Hollow. Where was the escape when I needed one most? Giving up all other vices became easy when I had Vance. But now, I could feel myself starting to slip.

  I slowed my swinging. Then came all the way to a stop. This wasn’t working either. Nothing worked. And failure was already starting to piss me off. Vance said nothing. I said nothing. Another occupied silence. So close, but already a thousand miles apart.

  “You’re moving to Texas,” his finally said, his voice flat.

  The words hadn’t fallen from his mouth like a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes.”

  We were both quiet, absorbing the weight of what that meant.

  “You sure had me fooled. I knew it couldn’t be… it didn’t all add up. Why did you make me think…?”

  “What does it matter? I’m still leaving.”

  His frown deepened. “Of course it matters. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?”

  “Yes.” I turned to face him. “Haven’t you?”

  This time he turned away from me and exhaled through his nose. “So you’re running,” he said, staring straight ahead.

  “I didn’t plan it like this, Vance,” I explained patiently, “The opportunity kinda fell in my lap… I’m taking the chance that I should have taken two years ago. I need to finish college and I’ve always wanted to go back to Texas. This is the perfect opportunity to have both.”

  “You can go to college anytime, anywhere. You don’t need Texas for that. Texas is no more than an idealized dream of a place that you probably don’t even remember, all so you can bury your past.”

  “Can you really blame me?” I worked to keep my voice calm. “Weren’t you the one who said all you wanted was to see me happy? Look at me, Vance, does it look like I’m doing well here?”

  When he was still unable to meet my eyes, I continued, “I wasn’t always miserable, you know.”

  It pained me to tell him that despite everything he meant to me, and all he had done for me, I was still unhappy here. There were moments he’d brought me joy. Like our date nights, the mountains and especially the concert. When I was around Vance, I felt bursts of happiness. But he didn’t represent my whole life. Our moments together were just an escape. It helped, but only temporarily. Grief still lurked under the surface that I hadn’t been able to shake. The minute I remembered what I was trying so hard to forget, the darkness crept back in.

  It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part. He’d made a valiant effort. But it was as I told him at the very beginning—a relationship wasn’t going to fix me.

  I watched it sink in as he realized I’d been right all along… I couldn’t give him what he wanted, and he hadn’t cured me. He was incapable of curing me of myself. All he ever wanted was to see me truly happy. And from the very beginning it was futile.

  “You’re miserable?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

  Although he still wouldn’t look at me, I could see the turmoil hidden behind his eyes. I could hear it in his voice. I could feel it rolling off him in droves.

  That all changed in an instant.

  “That’s bullshit!” he shouted and stormed off his swing, pacing the sand in angry footsteps.

  “My dreams are bullshit?” I yelled right back, crossing my arms.

  “It’s bullshit that all you ever do is run away.”

  I forced myself to take a calming breath.

  “Our reputations are set in stone here. The Holloways will always be remembered for their greatness. Ricky will always be the town heathen. And me… I will always be a pushover. Nathan’s naïve fling. The poor victim of Miles’ affair. Ricky Storm’s slut. The girl who led you on. College drop out. Goldilocks. Emo. Innocent. Lost. Social labels that do nothing but further confuse my own identity.” I paused, wishing he could understand. It was like quicksand; the harder I fought it, the quicker I sank. “But maybe I don’t have to be those things anymore.”

  His mouth tightened. “If you don’t want those things to define you, then do something to define yourself. You don’t need to move away to do that.”

  “I’ve tried. I’ve tried to redefine myself, but nobody takes me seriously and I don’t blame them. Every time I take a step forward, I take two back. Being here, in this town, I digress back to old habits every time the past catches up to me. I’m reminded of my mistakes and what I’ve lost, every single day.”

  “Come on, Rosie!” he said, kicking the ground and sending a wave of sand crashing in front of him. “You’re better than that! Be who you are despite your past, not because of it.”

  I sighed, wishing I had the strength and fortitude he described. I thought I did, once upon a time… before evil exes and drama. Before betrayal and loss. Before the real world. I survived, alright, but I was barely living.

  “You don’t know how badly I need a change of scenery,” I reasoned. “I have to try.”

  Head tilted down, he looked up at me, eyes beseeching. “Would it make a difference if I aske
d you to stay… for me?”

  I shook my head sensibly. “Not when every other reason is telling me to go. It’s not practical, Vance. I can’t revolve my whole life around a guy. Because when it ends, I lose myself. And it’s too hard.”

  “But, see, that’s the difference, Rosie. With us, it never has to end.”

  “You can’t say that. You don’t know.”

  “All I know is, I can’t lose you.”

  I clenched my jaw, refusing to acknowledge the guilt he was trying to make me feel. No way was I going to let him manipulate me into doing what he wanted. I’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.

  “What do you want from me, Vance? You want me to be just like Gwen and say, ‘screw my dreams, I’ve found true love!’”

  “I want you to give me something real. Don’t tell me how practical it is to start all over someplace else. Tell me you’re hurting. Tell me you’re scared. Tell me that even the smallest part of you doesn’t want to leave me. I need to know that you feel something, Rosie. For once, I need to hear the words.”

  “You want to talk?” I said, straightening in my swing. “Let’s do it. Let’s talk about my lack of future. This current career path leaves something to be desired, don’t you think? Let’s talk about my friends… or your friends, who don’t really like me all that much, and understandably so. And let’s not forget to talk about my family, because it was their idea to send me away now that I’m not their perfect daughter anymore. There’s nothing left for me here. Just drama and bad memories everywhere I go. Texas is my chance to start over, but more than that, it’s my chance to be happy. To find out who I’m supposed to be without all this baggage. This will be good for me, Vance, I know it.”

  He lifted his face towards the darkening sky. “You know what you’re really afraid of, Rosie? If you stay, and if you stop fighting it for one damn second, you’re going to feel something. It’s going to be raw, and intense. And natural as breathing. You won’t be able to hold it all in. You’re going to lose all that careful control. You’re going to fall. You’re going to figure out this whole damn time, you were wrong. About everything. And you’re going to love every damn minute of it.”