Andrew VII
There was never any ghost that haunted me. I am that ghost. I haunt. I torment. All I ever do is make things worse. All I ever do is hurt. I want to hurt. I need to. It’s the only thing that makes me feel better about myself. It’s the only thing that makes me feel real.
I knew for a long time. I knew what she did for the longest time. I just didn't want to admit it. Elizabeth was too good to ever be someone like me.
There’s no point in living in the past. There’s no point in worrying about the future. All we have is today. The past is dead and buried and tomorrow will never come. All we have is the now. All I have are these dreams. I dream that I never did anything bad. I dream of a world where everything turned out to be okay. In this world, I’m not on the edge. I’m not hanging by the hope that everything will turn out to be okay. I dream that I never became the person I made myself to be.
I think about falling. I think about letting go.
I have this dream where I'm swinging the ever-shit of a baseball bat at my dad. He's screaming and crying for help but no one listens. I dream that it's more to do with protecting Sara than just killing him.
I know these dreams aren’t real. They’re fake. A fantasy. An illusion. A fucking joke.
What else do I have besides who I am? What else can I do? I do my rounds. I drive around the city. I hand out baggies, collect the money, and go to my next destination. I beat the ever-living shit of those who can’t pay. I don’t have to, I want to. It proves I’m not the person my sister wants me to be. It’s not that I don’t notice, it’s just that I don’t care. People think I can be redeemed as if I can save myself. There’s no coming back from what I’ve done. I have to live with it. It’s all I can do.
Elizabeth couldn't live with it.
I don't blame her that she couldn't.
Sessions has this plan with Chris. She says that it'll put an end to Lyle. I've been waiting for that day but it never comes. It's making me impatient. I want to cave into my rage and just do it myself. I don't need their help. I'm not looking for redemption. I want revenge. I want to avenge Elizabeth. I want to end his madness.
Madness that we did nothing to deserve. Elizabeth never deserved it. Sara never deserved it. None of the girls under his control deserved it. It's sick. I couldn't care less for his reasons. Lyle is a plague, the sickness that we're all affected by and no one knows they are. A sickness I help spread. It'll end soon.
I just don't understand what's taking so long.
-
I stop by a gas station on the way home in the middle of the night. I don’t know what time it is. I’m too fucked up on ketamine to care to check. I need an energy drink but it's hard to focus. I catch myself staring at the bottom of the fridge for who knows how long. My consciousness isn't inside my body. Anything outside of the building doesn't feel real. Nothing feels real. The only thing that is real is the buzzing of the lights above me. Then I start to come down from the dissociative and I grab my drinks from the bottom of the fridge. I put them inside my jacket and start to head towards the exit. I never pay for them, why should I?
I'm stopped in my tracks once I get a view of the checkout counter.
“Everything in the drawer! Give it to me now!
The clerk is terrified with his hands up. A guy with a ski mask is holding him up at gunpoint.
“Yea, yes, sure,” the clerk complies.
I make my way to them, placing my two energy drinks on the counter. “What the fuck?!” Robber spits in my ear.
“It’s two for 4, yeah?” I ask the clerk.
The gun is then pointed at me. “Where the fuck did you come from?! Don’t you see I’m trying to rob the place?”
I make sure the barrel of the gun sits perfectly between my eyes. “Don’t mean I still can’t go about my day, no? I'm not stopping you.”
My words bewilder him. The gun is moved out of my head and then lowered. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“Something like that.”
“Man, fuck this!” The guy says before sprinting out of the door.
I look over to the clerk. I can’t even describe the look on his face. It’s a mix between terrified and confused. I just see it as more proof of who I am, of who I’ll ever be. I can't count the amount of times I had a gun on my face. I can't count the amount of time I put other people on the other side. I'm used to it. It's natural now. I've done a bunch of bad shit. I've seen a lot of bad shit. My hands have blood on them. They won't ever be able to be washed clean.
-
In the Diner just on the edge of Darkwood is where I find myself next. I’m nearly through all the coke I have from the eight-ball baggie. I finish what I have in the bathroom but I want more. I need more and it’s never enough. Luckily, I still have one more inside the car.
I get a text from Sessions. The girl finally gathered all the files she needed. Everything falls in a couple of days. It's not enough to expose Lyle. We have to take everything he has with him. Sessions was honest with me and told me I'm not needed, but I could be a nice distraction. It's just much easier if I'm there to confront him. This is what I'm meant to do. This is how I'm punished. That’s all there is. That’s all there has to be. I don’t have to understand anything about it. I know what I have to do and I'm okay with that. Sara will be fine without me. I know that now. She's with people who can give her the love she deserves. She has the love that our mother could never give her now. She has a future.
Sara has what I can never have.
I thought about it y’know?
I really did.
It's only a dream now.
In the end, all I could ask him was, why her? I didn’t know. Maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention or she just hid it really well, but I didn’t know. He hasn't cared about us since Mom died, but that was given. I should have paid attention that she was rarely home. I should have asked about her bruises. I should have noticed why she was always high.
I should have known it went deeper than the verbal abuse we endured. But why her? Why did she have to though something sicker? Evil. Why couldn’t she just trust me enough to tell me? Why couldn't I protect her? Why couldn’t I kill him? I wanted to. I didn't even try. I should have been a better brother.
I cried. I just cried.
It isn't me. Never was.
I thought I got rid of that weakness.
-
I sit back in my booth. There’s no one here. I don’t think I've ever been here so late. I don’t bother to flirt with the waitress this time. Night or Day, she's always here like she lives here. I seem to always catch her at the end of her shift. Tonight's at the beginning.
“A bit too late for coffee, no?” She pours it.
I look at her nametag.
Her name is Annie.
“I’m on the night shift.”
“I feel that.”
I like my coffee black. I never used to. Elizabeth got me into it. Now she's dead. I don't have regrets.
The wind chime jingles.
The door opens.
Jerrica looks around as if she's looking for someone, then she spots me, and she smiles. She walks towards my little hidden corner booth with a small smirk. She isn’t wearing all the bullshit expensive shit from when I first met her. No, it’s just a regular white T-shirt and checkered sweatpants. She had just gotten out of bed.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, sitting in front of me.
“The feeling’s mutual. It’s pretty late, what are you doing here? Stalking me?”
Immediately, her gaze fixates on me. It’s a sniper rifle ready to shoot whenever it wants.
“My friend works here, she told me you’re here," Jerrica motions her head towards Annie.
“Figures.”
“Something wrong? I expected a better response.”
She makes me scoff, “What do you want? I’m not in the mood.”
“I want to know what’s with you. Andrew, fucking, Mera,” she annunciates my first name. “Lord infamous and all,” Jerrica gasps. It’s exaggerated. It’s mocking.
“Nah, nothing with me.”
“I don’t believe that,” She rests her chin between her fingers.
“Believe what you want.”
“Hmm,” her eyes roll then turn back at me. “I believe you’re much more than what everyone says you are. I believe you can show me.”
“What’s this?”
Jerrica leans over to my ear. “I’m never wrong about this, Andrew.”
“What do you care? You don’t even know me. I’m just the villain in everyone's story. That’s all I've ever been. It’s all I ever will be.”
“You're right about one thing. I have been stalking you, y’know, ever since I learned about you,” she leans back to sit back upright. “Ever since the car crash, ever since I met you in person. You fascinate me. You’re a different breed, aren’t you? You don’t care about anyone. You don’t care about anything. That’s you, isn’t it? A force of nature. But there's only one person that's the exception.”
“What about it?”
“Your sister. Emily told me what happened. I’m sorry. I can't imagine. No one would blame you if you got arrested, but that never happened.”
“Is that all?”
“No. It just confirms what I thought. It confirms what I want. Hmm, I see what everyone else can’t. I see the real you. I see the real Andrew. You’re much more fascinating than you lead on.”
I flop my head backward. “I’m not some psychology project,” then I look back down at Jerrica. Her gaze has not once been broken. “Go write about someone else.”
“There is no paper to write. I’m studying to become a lawyer, actually.”
I scoff, “Then all you want to find out is what makes me tick. You want to know why I do what I do just to make you a better lawyer, that it?”
She shakes her head. “Not everyone has an ulterior motive, Andrew.”
I heard something similar like that before. Yeah, it was Grace’s mom that said it. She said she didn’t want to live in a world where people like me don’t believe in the kindness of others. It’s bullshit. Everyone wants something from somebody.
I catch myself examining Jerrica’s face.
She isn't that pretty. She can’t match the aesthetic and beauty of Emily. Her head is a bit too long, her chin is a bit too rounded and her nostril leans slightly to the left. She has too many freckles. The color of her red hair is bland as if it’s fading. Even her eyes are a bit too far apart for my liking. Jerrica isn’t beautiful but even so, each imperfection adds to her.
Here at this moment, she is.
She’s so beautiful.
“So what’s your motive then? I’ll tell you mine. I want to fuck the shit out of you. Right here, right now.”
Jerrica giggles, covering her mouth to stop herself from actually laughing. “There he is. I was wondering when you would show up. I guess with all that’s been going on it’s been hard to put on the mask.”
“I’m high as shit. That’s all there is to it.”
“What else do you do? You sell, right?”
“Coke, M, Acid, Shrooms, Xanax, Ketamine, Meth. Shit if you can get high on it, I sell. You still haven’t answered my question. What’s your motive, Jer-bear? You don’t come hunting me down just to get to know my life story.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Then what is this?” I ask again.
Jerrica stumbles on her breath. For the first time, I catch her looking away. She plays with her fingers and bites her lips. She loses the confidence she had for a brief moment before finding it again. “I want,” she pauses. “I want you.”
My dick twitches. Something else does but I ignore it.
“You’re a funny one,” I crack up. “So we want the same thing, just in time too, you were starting to bore me.”
"No, we don't. You didn't hear me."
"What? You want me?"
“I’m serious.”
“Like shit you are.”
Jerrica doesn't hesitate to lift herself from her seat to lean in. She doesn’t stop and soon enough I can feel her heavy breath. I close my eyes. Shit, I actually close my eyes but nothing happens. Her hand is in between our lips. Jerrica sits back down. “You have no idea just how beautiful I find you,” she whispers.
I laugh again. “So I was right in the money this entire time. You just wanted to fuck me. Well let's go,” I motion my head towards the exit. “Back of the diner’s good enough.”
“You're not listening, I don’t want to fuck you, Andrew. I want to know what’s with you.”
“What’s with me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re serious?”
She nods.
“You know who I am. I hurt people. I hurt your sister, shit I was trying to fuck her. I still want to. I’m a criminal facing the barrel of a gun every day. You're right, I don’t give a shit ‘bout anything not named Sara. Fuck, I do things if I think it’ll be funny. I am not a good person, Jerrica. I’ve been dealt a shit life and this is how I cope with it. I’m a drug addict, I love to fuck, and I love being the center of attention. I’ll put my dick into anything as long as they let me. I'm a storm. I destroy. That’s all I do.”
“And what else? Tell me more.” Her chin is resting on her palm again.
“I’m no good. I couldn’t even protect Sara from our dad. She never told me. She couldn’t tell me. She was that afraid. For fucks sake, she tried to kill herself because she couldn’t trust me enough to ask me for help. And what do I do when I do find out? Nothing. I couldn’t do anything and it fucking makes me sick. I couldn’t bring myself to end the motherfucker’s life like how I wanted to. I failed her. I failed her because I'm fucking weak.”
“You want to die too, don’t you? You want it to mean something,” her voice sings.
Her words break me, whatever that means.
It's exactly how I felt when my mom died. Something broke and it doesn't hurt, it's just empty.
Nothing.
“Sara was saved by my supplier, by the guy who runs the whole thing. He was trying to brainwash her to be his tool just like everyone else. Like me. He taught me how to never be weak again. He taught me power. He taught me to hurt the world that hurts me. That's who I am. I'm not human anymore. What good does my life serve when everything I built was made from hollow sticks? What good is there in me when I made everything worse? How much of a dumbass am I for not noticing what was in front of me the entire time? I couldn't save Sara. I couldn't protect her. I didn't stop Elizabeth. I’m nothing. I’m shit. And now I'm bound as a slave. Of course, I'm waiting to die.”
Jerrica takes a napkin from the holder and wipes it just under my left eye. I never noticed the sole tear falling. “You’re not nothing. Just because you dug your grave doesn’t mean you should lay in it.”
“Fuck you!”
“I think you're the person I want to fall in love with, Andrew.”
I understand the word but the meaning has no feeling. I’ve heard it's fun. I heard it's the most painful thing one can experience. I’ve watched it all around me. Cody and Emily have it however dysfunctional they’ve become. Grace has it for Cody. I’ve seen what it does and how it changes people. I’ve never had use for the feeling. It's useless to me because there'll be a day when I'll lose it.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Why me? You know what I’m about. I’ll ruin your life, Jer-bear.”
Jerrica takes a deep breath and takes even longer to exhale. She stands. “Come,” her hand extends out to mine.
I don’t understand this at all. Nothing about it makes sense. I just know I want to take it. So I do and follow her to the exit. Jerrica looks back at me with a smile and walks me towards the side of the building where there are no windows. She pushes me so my back hits the wall.
“Do you want to know what I see?”
“Hurry up, yeah? These jeans won't be able to hold my dick any longer.”
“I see a boy who was forced to be a man for the sake of his sister. He’s been ripped from his childhood. I see a boy who has been rejected by the world. He’s angry and full of hate. Yes, he wants to hurt. Yes, he wants to burn it all to the ground. He who had everything ripped away from him wants to nothing else but to the same to others.” Jerrica presses her body against mine, with her hand lying on my chest. She's taller than me. "But I also see someone who wants to love, someone who wants to be loved."
I instinctively unbuckle my jeans and try to pull my dick out but Jerrica stops me.
Her lips are ever so close to mine.
"You can't see shit. Fuck love, I don't need it."
“Don't lie. You go around acting as if you don't care, putting on this 'bad man' persona and everyone believes it but I see straight through it. You drag people so far into despair, forcing the worst out of them so they can be the ones to leave you. You want them to blame you because you think that you are incapable of being wanted, and the second someone proves you wrong, you force them to have no choice but to hate you. You want everyone to hate you, and one day, it'll get you killed, but hey, that's what you've always longed for, isn't it? You do all of that so you don't have to remember the pain you felt when you lost your mother and the pain when you lost Elizabeth. You cared about her so much too. You blame yourself so much. You think you're not worthy to be happy anymore. But that's not what I see. What I see is a boy who has problems, who needs help. A boy who is so misunderstood. I see a boy yearning for the love he never received. I see a boy who is envious of people who have what he doesn’t. I see a boy on the verge of falling off the edge. He’s been holding on for far too long now. I see a boy who is tired. I see a boy who is afraid. But most importantly, I see the man who you can become. I see who you want to be. I see the forgiveness you seek. I see you, Andrew.”
Her lips lock into mine. It’s far too different. Everything else before this now feels so superficial. They all feel meaningless compared to Jerrica's.
Her lips are far too soft. They are far too sensual. They’re sweet. They hold me in a lock. It pulls me in. They tell me that everything is okay now. They tell me I don’t have to fight anymore.
Her lips unravel my tense muscles that have been tight for years now.
“I can’t be saved,” I pull myself away. “I can’t.”
Jerrica moves her head down and lightly bites my neck. “You want to.”
“I ca-I can’t. I’ve done things. Things I can’t ever take back.”
She moves back, releasing my body from her grip. “I don’t care.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’ve-”
Jerrica shuts my mouth with her palm. “When I first met you, when I first saw you. I knew. I just knew you’re the person I’m supposed to be with. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter who you are now. You can change. I can help. I want to help. I can help you quell the ghosts that haunt you. I can love you. All you have to do is accept. Let me love you.”
“I-”
I can’t even think straight now. I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Relief? No, I don’t think I can even come close to putting it into words. I never felt this way before. It burns but it doesn’t hurt. It’s grabbing me and becomes tighter by the second and yet I’m able to breathe more clearly. It’s warm but if it was an action, not a feeling. It’s like snorting a big line of cocaine and all the dopamine rushes in your brain. It’s euphoric but that never lasts. So you do more and more just to keep it going. No. This drug is different. It's not an escape. It's welcoming. It urges me to kiss her. It screams at me to not let her go. It whispers to me that she’s the one. It wraps itself around me just to hum to me.
I feel like crying again.
-
When we were little, years before her suicide, Sara was always her favorite.
Mom always compared me to my sister. It didn't matter that Sara wasn't as smart as me, or as well-mannered, or quiet. I was never enough. Mom never praised me like she did Sara. I chased after our mom's approval. I studied well above my grade and tried my hardest at everything I did. All I wanted was for our mom to look at me. I resented Sara for it. And because I couldn't get Mom's attention for being a good kid, I began to act out.
Then eventually, for seemingly no reason, our mom began to treat Sara worse and worse. I was happy Sara could finally have a taste of what I was going through. But at some point, Mom began to treat both of us like she hated us. She called us worthless, annoying, and a burden. She constantly told us she hated us. Sara has no memory of it, but I still do. I still remember how mom would put out her cigarettes on our skin.
Dad always had an excuse for her, "Mommy is going through something right now, she doesn't mean it," he always said.
We were kids, we couldn't understand.
Mom was sick.
She was mad that there was no cure and it was only getting worse.
It does not justify her actions.
But Mom wasn't always like that.
There was a time when I wasn't angry.
I think it's one of my earliest memories, but I do remember that was a time when my mother loved me.
-
Now, with Jerrica, I'm not angry anymore. I'm four years old again and I'm loved.
A faint drum plays inside my heart. It’s playing irregularly as if out of practice. It corrects itself as it plays louder and louder until it finds its rhythm. It comes back alive.
I don't have to fight anymore.
I want to give Jerrica everything. I want to giver her the world. I want to give her this dying heart.
I don't want her to ever feel alone. I want her to be safe. I want to see her smile and to hear her laugh every day. I want to dedicate every part of my soul just to her.
“You can let go now. You don’t have to hold on anymore.”
This is love.
Jerrica wears a frown. I hate it. I don’t want to ever see it again. She takes another step back, disappointed that I can’t give her an answer.
It hasn't rained since the start of June. The stars have been painted in the sky every night. It's the summer solstice and the moon is the largest tonight. It's painted in a strawberry amber hue and it's shining directly down at Jerrica, like a spotlight.
I don’t get it. I’m shit. I’m just going to hurt her. I’ll destroy her. I’m not worthy of love. I never have been. I don't deserve it. There isn’t a thing about me that she can save. And yet…
“Love me.”
My words spark joy back to her smile, to her eyes. I don’t give her time to do anything else as I grab her and push her down to the ground. I grab her lips the same way she did, hard at first, then softly. It feels exactly the same as our first. Her sweetness is calling me home.
“We should stop here,” she moans and pulls my hand from her under her underwear's waistband. “I’ll love you, Andrew,” she sits up after I let her go. “On one condition.”
“Anything.”
“Prove to me that you can love me back. Prove to me that you’re able to love yourself.”
I want to laugh but I just don’t have it in me anymore. After all, nearly every laugh I do is fake, forced. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can. You will,” she stands and adjusts herself. “Nothing can happen between us right now anyway. I'm an old lady and your balls haven't dropped.”
“It's only six years, 'sides, law never stopped me before.”
“You're not ready. Graduate, Andrew. Use the next year to become the person who’ll love me. Stop walking the road that leads to your death. Start asking the people who care about you for help. You’re not alone. You never were. Be faithful to me and me only. From here on out, I’m yours and you’re mine. Use this next year to find peace. I’ll be there, I’ll guide you. After all that, come to me in New York. I’ll be waiting.”
I don’t find words that I want to say.
“Promise me.”
“And if I fail?”
Jerrica shrugs, “Then I was wrong about you.”
“Well then, can I at least get your number?”
I wasn’t trying to be funny and yet she bursts out in laughter. It’s contagious and for the first time in a long while, I laugh with her.
I hear my real laugh. I can't remember the last time I did.
Love. That’s what this is.
“I promise," I tell her.
I don't have to fight anymore.
I never did.
-
Grace opens the door, puzzled but it's justified.
“Yo!”
“Dude, it’s 4 in the morning.”
“Your mom home?”
Grace’s confusion only widens.
“Grace, who the hell is it!?” I hear Virginia upstairs. The constant ringing of the doorbell woke them except for Sara.
Good. Sara needs the rest.
It's also funnier that she doesn't find out right away.
“It’s Andrew!” Gracie yells back.
Virginia hurries down the stairs with nothing but a nightgown. "Gracie, go back to sleep, I'll deal with this."
"Why is he here, Mom?"
"Do as I say, Grace. I don't want to tell you again."
"Okay," she sighs. She takes another look at me before going up the stairs then tells me, "Be nice, okay?"
Her mother walks over to the kitchen and I follow. I sit at the dining table, thinking of something to say to ease her pissed-off face. Anything I say would make it worse, so I wait in silence and watch her back while she messes around on the counter.
Virginia places a fresh cup of tea in front of me. “Sorry, I made you wait. It’s punishment for waking us up, but the tea should help you calm down.”
“I am calm.”
“You’re anxious,” she points with her pinky finger as she drinks from her cup. “Afraid that I’ll take back my offer?”
“Don’t assume that’s why I’m here.”
“Drink your tea, honey. There’s no other reason why you would be here if it wasn’t. It’s okay, the offer stands. You can stay.”
“Thanks. I mean, thank you.”
“Your room will be next to mine. It’s empty so you’ll have to make do until I buy a bed. Also, give me whatever you have on you. The second I find you with anything, you’re out.”
I pull the few baggies out of the inside pocket of my jacket. Virginia takes them and examines them for a bit. “That’s all I have. It’s just what I use.”
“Can I ask what changed?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t see the anger in your eyes anymore. You're not afraid anymore."
I scoff, "You think you just know everything about me, huh?"
Virginia pulls out a cigarette from a drawer. “Do you have a light? Don’t forget your tea.”
“You smoke?"
"Only at work. You remind me a lot of Grace's father. Stubborn to a fault and would never ask anyone for help even if meant it would solve a problem.”
“He’s dead, yeah?”
“Yeah,”
"What happened?” I give her my lighter and finally drink the tea.
“He-Joseph got me pregnant with Grace just a week after we met. We were 17, the fucker. It was just a one-night stand. We were too drunk to bother putting on a condom. It took me two whole months to muster up the courage to tell anyone. My mother wanted to throw me out, luckily my dad was more level-headed. We all expected me to be a single mom, but no. When I told Joseph, he was so excited. It was his dream.” Virginia lights the cigarette and takes a long drag. “He stuck around. He dropped everything just to take care of me. His parents offered to pay for everything but he refused. He didn't want their help. Joseph hated relying on others. He convinced me to go to college so one of us could have a degree. He was fine with destroying his body in construction as long as I was happy. He had it all planned out, and it worked.”
Virginia points at a picture on the fridge. It’s one of Grace's when she was a baby.
“When Grace was born, we lost all time for ourselves, which was already nothing. It was weird. We were raising this kid together while we didn’t know what we were to each other. We never talked about it. We didn't have time to get to know each other at a deeper level. Joseph wasn't good with his emotions. Everyone would joke that were just friends who happened to be raising a baby together. I didn’t care. It never stopped me from eventually falling in love with him. I never found out if he felt the same.”
A person who stops at nothing to support those he loves.
"Then what happened?"
“A car accident. Grace was two. She was always so well-behaved and quiet. She was easy to raise. She rarely cried but when she did, it was impossible to get her to calm down. Then one night, she got sick and wouldn't stop crying. I didn't know what was wrong. She didn't look or feel sick so I thought Grace would stop eventually. Joseph was at work and couldn't be home until the morning. Gracie didn't let me sleep at all that night. It was Joseph's idea to go get Gracie looked at when he came home. He wanted me to take her because he hadn't slept in days. I forced him to drive. I just wanted to be alone in silence for a while. Joseph crashed because he couldn't stay awake. He died on impact. Gracie is a miracle for surviving. My selfishness killed him, " Virginia sighs. "Oh, how I wish he could see the woman Gracie is becoming.”
“Does she know?”
“No. She'll only blame me and herself. That's my crown to wear.”
"How do you live with it?"
"There comes a point in all our lives when we don't have to anymore."
The tea is sweet. Virginia has a half smile while she observes all the photos of Grace on the fridge. There's no clock in her house but I still hear the ticking of one regardless. I get up from my seat once there's no more tea left. Virginia sits down to finish hers.
"You can stay the night," she says, putting out her cigarette inside her cup. "I won't charge you rent. You don't have to pay me back. I just want you to be safe."
“I’ll only stick around until I graduate then I’ll get out of your hair.”
"Sounds good. I'll have a list for you tomorrow. It'll be stricter than Sara's."
"Why do you trust me?"
“I can just tell. Tell me about the girl. Who's the girl that managed to do what everyone else couldn't?”
I scoff, "There is no girl."
Virginia is like Jerrica. She sees right through me. It's eery. I don't like it. Virginia talks with me like she's known me my entire life.
"I promise I'll keep her a secret.”
"I made a promise too," I smile.