My dream had become a waking nightmare. My footsteps were at a crawl as I traversed the empty halls of Deer Valley High. It took me ages just to find the motivation to climb down the stairs. Why is it that, when everything goes so wrong, I can’t seem to feel anything except that intense discomfort? It was a pain so great that not even Zoey’s influence could curb the suffering I felt inside of me. Just slowly eating away at me as I could do nothing but wonder if I deserved it all. If, at some point in my life, I had wronged someone and called all these unfortunate things onto myself. No, it wasn’t ‘all of these things’. It was just one. Why did I have to fall in love with Zoey Brahm?

Even at that moment, those little parts of her that I’d grown attached to inspired something within me. From her confident demeanor to that dazzling smile of hers, or the way that cinnamon scent follows her everywhere she goes. Why did I have to fall in love with her of all people? Why was it her? If it were anyone else, if it were Gwen or Naomi or Jaz, then perhaps things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up.

When I arrived at the hallway leading to the school’s exit, I ran into an unexpected duo having a conversation that didn’t seem to be all that friendly. Of course it wasn’t. They hadn’t gotten along since I returned from my suspension.

“Maybe she deserves a chance to explore her options instead of clinging to a narcissist like you of all people.”

“Lawrence? An option? Yeah, right. You’d have to be huffing on some premium grade to believe that.”

Jazmine Lee and Lance Harley were having an exciting back and forth concerning what I assumed to be Naomi’s newfound friendship with Lawrence. To be honest, I was completely drained on this topic after what had happened earlier. I didn’t want to be a part of it, and I wish they wouldn’t make such a big deal out of what was such a simple problem compared to what I had just experienced. As I walked towards them, Jazmine was the first to notice me. She turned to me with a wide grin and waved my way.

“Tristy!! Yooo!”

“Oh hey, Trist…”

Lance’s eyes grew dark when he saw me. I couldn’t have had a lively expression.

“Hey,” I said, walking past them.

I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to get out of there and be alone for a little while.

“How’d it go?” Lance asked, following behind me. “You know, with you-know-who?”

I could tell that he was being subtle about it for my sake. Jaz had no idea that the two of us had stayed back in the club room, so he was probably trying to keep it secret for me. But I was long past the point of the cutesy high school romance phase of my feelings for her.

“Oh, yeah. We’re dating now.”

“What?! You and Zoey are dating?!”

“Huh? Really?” Jazmine suddenly spoke up.

“It’s not a big deal, guys…”

“Not a big deal? Are you kidding me?” She ran over to get in front of me. “Do you know how many guys have hit on her just to get turned away? So many persistent, good-looking guys too!”

“Leave him alone, he’s probably dealing with his own feelings about it.”

“Why are you always picking a fight? He LIKES her, he should be allowed to feel happy about it.”

“Well?” Lance asked. “Do you still like her?”

“I…” My gaze dropped to the ground. Like her? I do, obviously. That kiss from earlier was everything I’d ever wanted. I had no idea that lips were as soft or as smooth as that. Or perhaps that’s just what hers felt like? But I was conflicted about it all the same. Who is the Zoey that I like? Is it the girl who stayed by my side at the campsite? Is it the one in my dreams that comforted me through my fear of death? The girl I looked at from afar for the past three years? Or is it the Zoey I got to know? The power-hungry, manipulative girl who uses every dirty trick in the book to get what she wants? The one with a smile so dazzling that she could convince me to betray the only real friend I’ve made since Lance?

“Trist?” Lance called out.

Jazmine leaned in to inspect my face. Having her move in that close ordinarily would have put me on the spot, but I just couldn’t be bothered today.

“Man, he’s out of it,” she said. “Do you wanna get some fresh air, Tristy?”

“Uh, yeah… sure”

She placed her hand on my back and the three of us left the building. Outside, we were greeted with the dyed orange sky. Despite being 6:30pm, the setting back of the clocks for daylight savings last Sunday meant that we’d be getting less sunshine later into the day. It was an unfortunate consequence of the system. I hadn’t minded it all that much since I never participated in any after school activities before, but I was starting to feel it now that I needed to get home much later than usual.

“Hey, do you have a car, Lance? Let’s get him to sit down.”

“Yeah, I do.”

The two of them were being far too considerate of someone like me. After what I had done earlier, I deserved far worse than this. If Zoey so much as asked, I would probably betray them the way I betrayed Gwen, so what’s the point in even garnering their sympathy? But I couldn’t say no to them. To deny them the opportunity to comfort me would just make them feel even worse. There’s no winning when you’re an asshole. No matter what I do, I’ll always be in the wrong.

“Trist?”

“Huh?”

Lance called my name again. When I snapped out of my daze, I was sitting in the back seat of his SUV next to Jaz as he looked back at me from the driver’s seat. I didn’t remember anything after leaving the building.

“Do you uh, wanna talk about it?”

“Jesus Christ Lance, does your car have to stink of weed like this?” Jaz asked.

“Yikes, sorry,” he said, reaching over to his air freshener and spraying it down. “I’d open the windows but it’s freezing out there.”

“Just roll it down, who cares?”

“What, and you don’t smoke?”

“What does that have to do with your car smelling like shit?”

“Oh fuck off, can we get back to Tristan?”

“This IS about Tristan. We were supposed to be getting him fresh air, remember?”

“Whatever man,” he said, lowering the window. “Tristan, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Jaz asked. “Are all the empty McDonalds bags Lance has scattered all over the seats and floor upsetting you?”

“Dude, give me a break. You don’t have to be in my car if it pisses you off this much.”

“Oh, I’m not pissed. I’m just making observations.” As she said this, she looked over at me and stroked the top of my head. It was comforting. I always feel at ease around Jazmine. She has this aura that she just genuinely enjoys my company. A part of me wonders if it came naturally or if she had to work hard to become someone like that. If it’s the latter, then maybe there’s hope for me.

“Don’t…” I brushed her hand away.

“Tristy?”

“Sorry, I… I don’t…” deserve your sympathy. That’s what I wanted to say, but the words got stuck in my throat. Those words sounded so pathetically self-aggrandizing that it felt embarrassing to even say it.

“Tristan, tell us what happened,” Lance said. He looked serious. “If Zoey’s going out with you now, then why do you look so hurt?”

Hurt. I looked hurt.

“I… I can’t. I just need to forget about it.”

“Welp,” Lance said, turning around to start his car.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? We’ve gotta forget about it. Let’s go do something downtown.”

“Seriously?”

“Why not? What, do you have plans or something?”

“Well, no, but… can you at least swing by the front and get my bike?”

“Bike? You ride a bike to school? Are you European or something?”

“I’m black. What part of me looks European to you, exactly?”

“Uh, I watched the world cup kitten. I think I know my Europeans.”

“Tristy, I think your friend might be an irredeemable loser.”

“Are you calling me racist?” he asked, starting the car at last. “I’m not racist, dude. My ex-girlfriend is black.”

“O Heavenly Father above, please grant me the patience to deal with Your child.”

Lance drove by the front of the parking lot and allowed her to step out and pick her bike up. He also stepped outside to help her pack it in the back. When they left me alone, my mind wandered back to Gwen. I wondered if she hated me for it. Obviously, she despised Zoey for concocting a plan that almost got her killed, but just how much longer could she tolerate me by telling herself that she would do the same if she were in my shoes? Would we ever speak again as friends? I wanted to call her and apologize and tell her that everything was a mistake. That I’d cut Zoey off and do anything just to be her friend again. That I realized that, maybe a genuine connection with her is worth more than some superficial relationship with the most popular girl at school. Because honestly, the fact that I felt nothing when she said that she’d go out with me is terrifying. It hurt to lose Gwen more than it felt good to be dating Zoey.

“I’m getting out,” Jaz said.

When I came to, we were already downtown. The car was cruising around the block in search of some location to stop at.

“What do you mean you’re getting out?” Lance asked.

“I can’t be in your terrible weed car filled with empty cups and fast-food bags for any longer when you’re also such an irredeemable person.”

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“Stop calling me irredeemable, dude. I’m not irredeemable.”

“You just made fun of that guy in the wheelchair!”

“What? He would’ve found it funny. He looks like a stand-up guy.”

“Let me out of the car.”

“Jaz, wait,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure why there were so many gaps in my memory, but I could tell that I needed to step in. “Lance, you should apologize.”

“What? Why? It’s just a joke. I don’t actually have a problem with anyone. Besides, she started it.”

“What? When did I start it?”

“When we started hanging out. You made a joke about Trist liking black girls.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, that was edgy! It was funny! I thought, ‘damn this chick can roll in the mud.’ Of course I’d wanna follow suit.”

“No, Lance. Just…” she sighed. “I’m not going to laugh at those jokes with someone when I don’t feel comfortable with them yet.”

“Okayyy, so how do I make you comfortable with me?”

“I dunno, show me that you’re not… you know. Irredeemable.”

“But I’m not.”

“Yeah, but…” She pinched her nose. “Okay, what if I called you a piece of shit and told you to go kill yourself? You know, as a joke. And however you feel about that, compare it to how you’d feel if Tristy did it.”

“A little up there on the edge scale buddy, but sure. I see your point.”

“See? I just need to trust you. Like, that world cup joke? I’m not gonna lie, in retrospect, kinda funny. But I don’t know you like that so it kinda just came off as really weird.”

“Okay, yeah. I get it. So I should start off with safe edge and build your trust up before calling people retards. Got it.”

“Or you could just, you know, not do that one.”

“Why not?”

“Saying a slur isn’t an edgy joke. It’s just edgy.”

“Yeah, but...”

If I even made up with Gwen after that, what would Zoey think about it? Or, as a matter of fact, why do I care about what Zoey thinks at all? Who cares about the photography club and that stupid film? Who cares about our secrets together? Who cares about her dumb double date on Saturday? Not me. I had it right after I left her house the first time. Someone who isn’t capable of love isn’t worth my time. In fact, she’s a detriment to me. And besides, maybe if I stopped talking to Zoey then Gwen would be my friend again. Maybe she’d forgive me since I was finally breaking free of Zoey’s grasp the way she broke free of Ben’s, and then we could finally be happy.

But what if Zoey was right? What if she was only friends with me to get back at her for the Ben stuff?

No, that’s not possible. I felt something genuine back then. It can’t just be for something as shallow as revenge. It’s strange to admit it to myself, but I trusted Gwen. I’d only really known her for about two weeks, but I trusted her almost as much as I trust Lance. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but I think that shared experiences like those can tell you a lot about a person and how much you have in common.

“Trist.”

“Huh?”

Lance’s voice had brought me back to reality. I looked around, and they’d both left the car and were just standing outside waiting for me. I was the only one left inside, still just sitting around twiddling my thumbs.

“You were zoned out man. What were you thinking about? Actually, never mind. Don’t answer that. This is a chill evening. We’re gonna chill. Just gonna enjoy those saintly Mickey D vibes.”

“Since we’re not doing the drive through, you won’t have any trash to litter your car with, right?” Jaz asked. And to her words, Lance only offered her up a sardonic smile. “Uh… don’t look at me like that. I don’t like what you’re insinuating.”

“Relax. In fact, I’ll clean my car out right now. And I’ll air it out too. So why don’t you two silly kids head on inside and order something? By the way, my order is a big mac, small fries, and uhhh, whatever soda you guys are having.”

“Uh, right… I’m not gonna remember that so that’s all on Tristy. C’mon, let’s head in.”

Once we were inside, it felt like a weight had come off Jaz’s shoulder. The guards she had put up around Lance came crumbling down just as easily as she’d built them up.

“You know, it’s weird. I really hated his guts ever since he joined the club. But after hanging out with him in the context of like, just the three of us and not in the club I’m super passionate about, I think he’s kinda growing on me. I don’t like him or anything, but he’s kinda… tolerable.”

Tolerable was a big step up from what I’d been seeing for the past few days, so I was relieved.

“One time,” I said, smiling. “Our junior year chemistry teacher called him out on sleeping during class.”

“Mr. Wendall?”

“You had him too?”

“Oh yeah, sophomore year. Total stick in the mud.”

“So then Lance goes, ‘maybe you should make your class less boring if you don’t want us sleeping.’”

“Wow, he said that to that poor old guy? What a dick.”

“Yeah, he really doesn’t care about anything. But that’s how I know that he actually cares about me. He wouldn’t bother with any of this if he didn’t give a shit.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t even have to say anything and he offered to take me out today to try to cheer me up, right?”

“You do have a point… but he’s still a dick. He says that word even though I told him I don’t like it.”

“No you didn’t.”

“What? Yes I did! Many times!”

“Well, I get why you’d think that you did, but… your wording implied that he’s not allowed to say that word at all. And he’s not going to listen to you if you tell him that he can’t say it. He’s the kind of person who does whatever he wants.”

“What? So then… what should I say?”

“Just tell him that it makes you uncomfortable. You’re not like, infringing on his own rights, you’re just asserting your own boundary… I think that’s how he views it, anyway.”

“Huh… and you’re sure that’ll work?”

“Of course it will. He’s a good person.”

That’s right, I also have my friend. My good friend Lance. So why do I need to obsess over girls in the same way that Lawrence does? I have my entire life to worry about finding a partner. Can’t I just focus on myself and having fun for now? I could just spend my days playing Dota and cruising through life with Lance like I always have. Is that so bad? Having no purpose for myself other than the dopamine high of a victory in an online video game? What’s wrong with that? Actually, come to think of it, my entire life from freshman year until this point had been myself imagining a life with Zoey after graduating. Getting married, getting whatever job I could hold onto, and dedicating myself to her.

If I do decide to cut her out, what am I going to do with my life then? I’m not Gwen, I don’t have any acting talent to fall back on like she does now that Ben’s out of her life. What’s my next move? Maybe I could try directing if I like it. But, I’d have to write a screenplay since Gwen and I aren’t on good terms anymore. But are we really not? Maybe if I called her and apologized, she’d forgive me. Maybe, just maybe…

“Tristy! Your burger’s getting cold!”

I came to again to the sight of Jaz and Lance staring at me with worried looks on their face. While I’m glad that he was keeping an eye on me, it was worrying that I kept dozing off like that.

“Oh, right.”

I took a bite of my quarter pounder and smiled at them.

“Mm, delicious.” As I’m sure they could tell, I was forcing myself to smile. To be honest, I wasn’t even all that hungry. The sight of Gwen curled in that corner in fear was burned into my mind’s eye. Even if I wasn’t solely responsible, I felt like I owed her an apology. “Sorry guys, can I make a call really quickly?”

“Hey, you don’t need to ask,” Jaz said.

“Yeah, you can leave the two of us alone. We’re like best buds now.”

“You’re pushing it, Shaggy.”

“Oh I get it. Because I’m a white guy who smokes a lot of weed, right? That was kinda edgy of you, best bud. But you know what? Since we’re such good friends I’ll forgive you.”

“Thank you for your generosity.”

I nodded at them then ran out of the store with her contact in hand. The urge to rectify this was preventing me from calming down and enjoying the outing with the two of them. Just the thought that she could be suffering right at that moment was enough to justify this. I needed to fix it. It was obvious. And yet, I couldn’t seem to get my thumb to hit the call button on her contact. All I could do was stare down at my phone as the fear of what her response would be assailed my mind.

Would she admonish me? Curse me out? Break it off cleanly? Or would she just accept that I was in a rough situation? My fear of her response was growing by the minute, but I couldn’t just not find out. I needed to find the strength to hit the call button. I needed to channel Zoey’s cold indifference. Just until I swung the hammer down on the button. Until then, I needed to be like her.

The sound of the phone ringing filled my head.

When did I hit the button?

My mind was doing strange jump cuts like some kind of artsy foreign film.

Was I doing okay?

No.

It didn’t matter.

I needed to clear things up with her.

That was more important than whatever was going on in my head.

“Hey, this is Gwen. If it’s important, leave a message.”

I hung up.

I needed to speak to her now, not leave some voicemail that’s never going to get listened to.

The phone rang again.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four-

“What?”

She picked up.

I hadn’t expected it, but she really did pick up.

But, what should I say?

I had so much I wanted to say, but once she answered, all of it flew out the window.

I was at a loss for words, and could only stumble forward over myself.

“Hey, uh, Gwen. About earlier, I-”

A sudden sigh broke through my sentence. The frustration it carried was heavy enough to smash my words to pieces. And all that was left afterwards was a lull of silence. A lull that lasted all too long.

“Never mind. I don’t think I can do this. Goodbye Tristan.”

The line was cut.

My bridge towards Gwen had vanished just like that.

I couldn’t believe it.

My finger immediately hit the call button again.

After a moment of silence, a feminine voice spoke through the phone’s speakers.

“We’re sorry, but the number-”

I hung up and tried again.

“We’re sorry, but the num-”

I tried again.

Again.

Again.

After trying eight or nine more times, I gave up and looked up at the sky. The streetlights were beaming down from above me like a spotlight. If I really were the protagonist of some foreign artsy film, I had wondered what kind of monologue I’d be given for a scene like this. A long piece filled with more wallowing and flailing in pain over my terrible actions, I’m sure. But the weakness in my body made it difficult to think of anything that poetic. I’m sure Gwen could, though. She could write something beautiful and act it out to perfection. She’d give a performance that could move stadiums of people to their feet.

But as for me, all I could do was embrace the feeling of emptiness inside myself. My face had loosened. I no longer had the strength to even change my expression. Just what have I been doing for the past month? Dancing to the devil’s tune for the promise of, what? Sex? It couldn’t be love. Zoey Brahm and love are like water and oil. I don’t believe for a second that she’d just suddenly warm up to me. And besides, I could hack her and find out for myself at any point. The whole thing just felt like bullshit.

“What about this picture?”

“Wait wait, I don’t like my eyebrows in this one. Hang on.”

“Sure, fine. My angle was off anyways. I wanna look more like Sasuke in this.”

“You wanna look like Sasuke? What are you, twelve?”

I came to and found myself standing at the table, staring at Jazmine and Lance, who were trying to cozy up to take a selfie together.

“Uh, what are you two doing?” I asked.

“Oh, hey Trist. Jaz just told me that Naomi’s only talking to Lawrence to make me jealous. Can you believe that? Fucking bullshit, man. So we’re taking a selfie at McDonalds for Instagram to get back at her. She’s gonna be so jealous, dude.”

“Can you guys like, not do that?” I asked.

“Tristy, c’mon,” Jaz said. “It’s not like she’s innocent, right? She started it. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

“It doesn’t matter who started it. If you guys do this then things are only going to get worse, not better.”

“I hear you Trist, and I’m listening and I’m- and it’s uploaded.”

“Oh my GOD Lance! My eyebrows! Why did you upload that one?”

“Your eyebrows are fine dude, relax. Look, what’s important here is that Naomi gets jealous. She’s fucking me over with Lawrence, so I’ll fuck her over with you.”

She sighed. “Really? I kinda think Tristy’s right. I don’t like you like that. And you don’t like me like that. So it’s like, not actually the same as what she’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Lawrence really likes her, right?”

“Not really. He’s just trying to get in her pants.”

“Yeah, but, that’s still bad. You have way more to lose from upping the ante here, right?”

“Oh… right.”

“It’s not too late to delete the picture. She probably hasn’t seen it.”

“Nope, she has. She just texted me.”

I sighed. “Since when are you two so buddy buddy anyway?”

“Oh,” Jazmine smiled. “I understand him better now, I guess.”

“You do?” I asked.

“Yeah. He’s not hateful, he’s just a child.”

“Hey,” Lance scowled.

“He doesn’t say the stuff he says because he means harm, he’s just a kid who thinks its fun. He’ll grow out of it eventually. Or not. Either way, I don’t have to like that part of him. I just need to tolerate it when I have to.”

“Yeah, Trist, we’ve got a nice healthy working relationship now.”

“Right…” I moved back over to my seat and stared at my burger. They might be pretending to hate each other still, but it’s obvious that they enjoy each other’s company now.

But despite that bit of good news, I found myself slouching in my seat, unable to even pick up the food item in front of me. I thought that the call would have given me my appetite back, but I felt far worse than I did before. Maybe I should have just told her about Dream Paralysis. Maybe I should’ve told her why Zoey is so interested in me. Maybe that would make up for it. But it’s too late for that now. She’s not taking my calls anymore.

“So how’d it go?” Jaz asked.

“She hung up on me.”

“Zoey did?”

“No.”

The feeling of tears welling up is always so uncomfortable. I’m not supposed to cry. I don’t want to look weak. I don’t want to make them feel sorry for me more than they already do.

“No? Then who?”

“I can’t… say.” My voice cracked.

“Trist?” Lance looked up from his phone.

My mask had slipped.

I wanted them to stop looking at me.

I wanted to hide my face.

To run away.

I didn’t want them to look at me.

But all I could think about was how much fun I’d had getting to know her.

How, despite her thorny exterior, she was actually a sweet girl.

Sympathetic and kind.

Her bad experiences made her seem rough around the edges, but there was still an amazing person in there.

Funny, smart, loving, talented.

And she was finally starting to come out of her shell after all those things she’d experienced.

I really liked her, and I wanted to spend more time with her.

But...

Because of my obsession with Zoey…

Because of my stupid brain that can’t function without thinking of her…

“Hey, Tristy…”

Jaz’s hand was at my back again.

It was obvious why she was comforting me.

I was sobbing like a pathetic child.

I’m a loser who can’t even stop himself from crying at a McDonalds in front of his friends.

I haven’t cried since my first year of middle school, and I’d done it twice in the past month.

She’s bad news. Zoey Brahm is a cancer.

She needed to be cut out before she spreads too far.

She had to go.

It was time to make the pressing decision.

I’d finally decided that, from then on, I would no longer depend on Zoey Brahm.