Reaching out to people sometimes doesn't work out the way others intend it to. Inez faced the brute force of those consequences when beginning to tackle the wall that was Sebastian.
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Plagued by loneliness since childhood, seventeen-year-old Inez...
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Say It
"We're done?" I questioned.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Done... with what?"
He motioned between the two of us. "This. All of it."
"As in... being friends?"
"If that's what you called it, then yeah."
If that's what I called it? What?
"Wait, what're you trying to say?"
"Holy shit," he groaned. "I knew this was going to be hard, but I guess I forgot how stupid you are."
Some sort of painful needle-like pain pricked at my heart. I stood there, dumbfounded. He didn't mean that. That's what I told myself. Was it working, though? Did anything I do work?
"Just stop this," he said quietly.
And just like that, everything around me seemed to be collapsing. The crickets and loud thumping of the music from inside became a dull hum in my ear. I couldn't bring myself to move my gaze upward and take a glance at his face. It held everything I desperately tried to avoid.
"It's cold out here. We should head inside," I suggested, a forced smile on my lips.
"Enough, Inez," Sebastian muttered.
That's the first time he's ever said my name . . .
The smallest bit of resolve I had crumbled. Disappearing along with the curve of my lips. That wasn't the end of the world. So, why did it feel like everything was falling apart? Like I'd built a sandcastle and it was eroding between the tips of my fingers.
What do I do?
The question echoed in my mind desperately. I'd been left standing there, pleading with myself. What could I have done? There didn't seem to be an answer waiting for me. Just the inevitable.
"Why?" I whispered. The sound was so quiet, even I could barely hear it.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Why?" I blurted, my voice was louder than I intended it to be.
"Because I'm tired of you," he replied.
My eyes widened slightly. This time, my stare met his. Those blue eyes were threatening to dig holes into my head. The intensity of them was frightening.
"Tired of me?" I repeated in disbelief.
"I put up with all your bullshit until now out of obligation. But, I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of you constantly bothering me and expecting me to react the way you want," he explained.
"That's not-"
"When are you going to understand that I don't want your fucking help?!" he suddenly shouted. "I don't want, nor do I need, friends. So, for the love of God, stop trying to act like you can make a difference!"
