Skeletons

Chapter 10

I stand outside the 7/11, my eyes scanning each car that pulls into the lot with a sense of detachment. Among them, a battered 1994 Chevrolet truck catches my attention. Despite its worn appearance, it still has this rough JD sort of charm to it.

JD emerges from the truck, his expression is stoic which irritates me. His once-dark hair now bears traces of gray that I hadn't noticed during our last meeting, tousled but somehow still neat. Dressed in a black button-up shirt under a matching trench coat, his faded blue jeans held up by a taupe brown belt.

As he finally notices me, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Ms. Sawyer," he greets, his tone tinged with amusement as if I am some old friend he hasn't seen in years.

"Jason, we need to talk about Lydia," I blurt out, my concern overriding any need to adhere to social norms with small talk I would have otherwise engaged in. "We had an argument, and then I saw—"

"Whoa, slow down, Ronica'," he interrupts, his voice calm. "How about I buy you a Slurpee first?"

I reluctantly agree seeing no use in arguing, trailing behind him into the 7/11. The bright lights and familiar smell of processed snacks flood my senses, evoking memories I've kept buried for years.

We approach the slushie machine, its soft whirring providing a comforting backdrop. JD hands me a cup. "Looks like chivalry's dead," I say to him only half joking.

As he begins to fill the cup, I swallow hard to stop myself from blurting out something else I'll regret. Despite my attempts to remain composed, being around JD stirs up memories and conflicting feelings.

When I reach for my wallet to pay, JD stops me with a gentle touch, insisting on covering the cost. His small gesture of kindness catches me off guard, reminding me of how we used to be. But I brush it off, shaking my head slightly to shake off any feelings that are too hard to process at the moment.

Outside, we settle on the sidewalk, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic. For a moment, it feels as though time has stood still, transporting us back to our teenage years before everything that happened.

"So, Lydia," JD prompts, his concern finally evident in his voice. As I explain the situation, the weight of it all becomes painfully real.

"She's been cutting herself, JD," I confess, the words heavy on my tongue. At that moment, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife, which I suppose isn't the best analogy considering the subject at hand.

JD reaches into his coat pocket, extracting a pack of cigarettes. His hand pauses before lighting one, glancing at me for permission. I shake my head, a silent affirmation that I'm okay with it.

"I should probably just get to the point," I say, attempting to steer the conversation back. "Her and I were having a fight over the whole skipping school and going off with you thing."

JD takes a quick puff from his cigarette, nodding in understanding. "I don't know how long she's been doing this, but..." I pause, reaching for the lit cigarette in his hand. I take a long drag before continuing, the act oddly calming. It doesn't seem to bother him as he just gets another from his pocket.

"She's been cutting herself, JD," I repeat, the words hold down my tough with their weight. At that moment, the reality of what my baby has been doing to herself sinks in. Of couse I was aware before but it was almost like I was watching this happen to someone else. It wasnt my problem, my child, or my psychotic ex.

JD's expression darkens. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke billowing around him. He stays silent a little too long for the situation to still be comfortable, or as comfortable as it could be with the topic. Finally, he speaks, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and determination.

"Ronnie, I had no idea," JD murmurs, his tone softened by the empathy I forgot he had. "I'm sorry for dragging her into this mess. I never meant for any of this to happen."

His words cut through the tension like a knife, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within me. Despite my lingering resentment towards him, his seemingly genuine remorse is still there.

"It's not your fault, Jason," I reply, even though I don't fully believe that. "But we need to do something. Lydia needs help."

JD nods solemnly, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the pavement. "You're right," he agrees. "We'll figure this out together. I won't let her slip through the cracks."

A sense of relief washes over me as we sit in silence, the weight of our past grievances fades into the background, replaced by a newfound sense of solidarity no matter how small and trust me it is very small.

Even after all that has happened I know we can still work to help her. I refuse to let my feelings no matter how bitter get in the way of Lydia and what is best for her.

As the night stretches on, we delve into a discussion about Lydia's well-being. Despite the fact I hate Jason with most of my heart I know that he isn't all terrible. Or that's what I hope at least.

"I think she needs therapy," I suggest tentatively, voicing the concern that has been eating away at me inside out.

"No."

I take a long drag from my cigarette, the smoke curling around me "JD, you're being unreasonable," I murmur, the frustration in my voice becoming evident even as I try to hide it. "Therapy might be Lydia's best shot at finding some peace."

JD's expression hardens, his jaw clenched. "Veronica, you know as well as I do what those therapists are like. They'll just label her, medicate her, and toss her aside like she's broken beyond repair."

I sigh. "I get that you're scared, JD. But we can't let our fear dictate Lydia's future. She needs help, and we have to at least try."

JD shakes his head, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I won't be a part of it," he says firmly. "I won't stand by and watch them turn her into a guinea pig for their experiments."

My frustration boils over, but I swallow it down, forcing myself to stay calm. "JD, please," I plead, reaching out to touch his arm. "We can't abandon her. She's counting on us."

The conversation with JD reaches a stalemate, and I can sense we're not making any headway. Feeling frustrated, I decide to not waste my breath on him and head back to my car. But before leaving, I turn to JD, my tone firm and unwavering.

"I know you're scared and I get it, really I do but I am going to put her in therapy and I frankly don't care about your weird trauma-induced bullshit ideas about it because I did not come here for your permission I came to tell you."

With that said, I walk away, leaving JD to contemplate my words as I make my way back to my car.

Thanks for reading specifically thank you to my four engaged readers y'all are real ones

I edited this chapter because my friend bullied me about my lack of vocabulary so I hope you like it!

See ya next time! 

bye bye :)