Just let me lie here, okay?”
She chews on her bottom lip as if she wants to say something else, but decides against it. Instead she nods and slips out the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind her. Wolverine starts to whine again.
I stare out the window, being awake never used to take so much effort. All I want to do is sleep, but the caffeine or whatever else they put in my meds keeps me awake. I want the nothingness to take me away, but that would be too easy. I’m not ready to forget her yet.
If I’d been there this wouldn’t have happened. It was my fault. If I had stayed with her, she would still be alive. I repeat this simple truth to myself until I’m physically sick from it.
My stomach twists into a chemical dry heave and I retch over the side of the bed. Nothing comes out. Maybe it’s my body attempting to purge itself of the pain. I lie still till my heart stops beating so fast.
I don’t hear my door opening again, but feel Mom’s familiar fingers, roughened from decades of washing dishes, curl around my arms. A sob escapes my throat.
“Shh, honey, it’s alright. Can I make you a cup of tea? You’ll feel better afterwards.”
I try to throw her arms off but there’s no strength in my muscles. “Just leave me alone!”
My voice is nothing but a croak. I’m so pathetic.
She skulks to the doorway like she’s been stung. She must feel so helpless. We used to be close, but that was before Demi died and I got turned inside out.
“Things will get better with time.”
I can’t believe she said that, as if she can imagine a world where I could actually be happy again. I had my chance and it’s gone. The only reason I’m not dead is because I’m selfishly clinging onto my memories of her, willing her spirit to come and find me and take me with her.
I can’t stand her not being here. I see her face in my mind, her sweet blue eyes that used to light up whenever she saw me, her tiny nose and pierced lip and blonde, blonde hair streaked with every colour of the rainbow.
It feels like I’ve lost my mind.
I don’t know how much time passes. My fingers search the bedside table for my pills. There should be ten, maybe twelve left. I touch the cool metal of the bracelet I like to keep close as a reminder. I grab it and tuck it in my pocket, before slipping another pill into my mouth. I close my eyes and wait for my mind to stop racing. But the memories are waiting.
I STARTED WAITING TABLES to save up enough cash for a car. It wasn’t the coolest job to have in high school, but money’s money, and I had no friends to judge me for it anyway.
One night a family of six walked in and changed my life. Three guys, a really pretty blonde and two older people I assumed were the parents. The girl was cute; all blue eyes and out-of-control hair. She chewed on strands of her hair while she read through the menu. I had to psych myself up before I walked over.
“Good evening, folks. My name is Damian and I will be your waiter for this evening. Can I get you something to drink?”
Our eyes met for a second and we shared a secret grin, as if she knew that I knew that this was the last place on earth she wanted to be. I have no idea what came over me but I winked at the girl before returning my attention to her mother. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a blush blossom on her cheeks.
“It was my daughter’s birthday over the weekend, so tonight has to be extra special,” her mother said in warning. She was a classy lady in matching beige. The steakhouse seemed a really odd choice.
“I’ll make sure she gets the star treatment.”
I kept my word. I added tiny little extras throughout the meal, like a black straw in her drink when everyone else got the boring see-through kind, gherkins cut out in the shape of stars surrounding her burger, and let’s not forget the sparkler in the brownie. I also spared her the embarrassment of being sung to by the other waiters. My efforts earned me a bright smile, so I knew I was doing something right. Her family, all of them, didn’t notice a thing.
While I was ringing up their bill at the counter, I found myself staring into her big blue eyes.
“Hey there, Birthday Girl.”
“Hey. I uh, just wanted to say thanks for the extra stuff, you know, the straw and everything.”
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in fast forward. I imagine that she was feeling incredibly shy, making conversation with a random stranger. I hoped she felt the same spark.
“I know what it feels like when no one makes a fuss about your birthday.”
“What makes you think no one made a fuss?”
“Well, you didn’t look stoked when you came in.”
“I guess not, but it’s hard to find places that’ll feed my three constantly hungry brothers on a budget. Monday-night burger specials have saved our lives.”
My eyebrows rose at the mention of brothers. I was hoping the guys at the table were family. I decided to make sure.
“I’m surprised your boyfriend didn’t have anything special planned for tonight.”
“I don’t have one,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, my friends threw me a party on the weekend. It was great.”
The tiniest smile flickered at the corners of her mouth.
“Then I won’t feel bad about asking for your number.”
What followed was one of my rare experiences of the awkward silence.
“Are you being serious or is this you playing the part of charming waiter, trying to make a girl feel special on her birthday?”
I grinned. “Well, at least you think I’m charming. Would you mind if I asked your name?”
“It’s Demi, like the actress. Now answer the question.”
I was acting a lot braver than I felt, but my mind was flying off the adrenalin from talking to this girl.
“I like you,” I said as I wiped the sweat from my brow. This girl was making me nervous. “You’re not like most of the girls who come in here to flirt with me, hoping I’ll serve them beer. You’re real.”
“Lucky for you I hate beer, then.”
“Feisty. I like that.”
She turned to see if her parents were watching. I panicked.
“You still haven’t given me your number.”
She smiled at me and plucked a pen from my top pocket.
She wrote her number on one of the branded serviettes. She even drew a little heart at the end.
Demi wasn’t my first girlfriend, but she was the only one who mattered. She got me. The little firecracker
