Burnt Out

☆Avoid☆

Hayden

This was the second time Zeek answered Ray's phone when I called, and I was getting tired of it.

Today, Ray had managed to avoid me all day, slipping away like a shadow every time I tried to get close. By the time I decided to finally confront her, she was nowhere to be found. I dialed her number, hoping to at least hear her voice, but when the call connected, it was Zeek who picked up.

The last time this happened, Ray was drunk out of her mind, and that memory left a knot of unease in my stomach. Something wasn't right. The unease gnawed at me, a constant reminder that Ray might be slipping into something dark, something I couldn't reach her through.

"Where is she?" I demanded, my voice tight with concern.

His casual tone on the other end did nothing to ease my worry. "She's at mine."

"Let me talk to her," I said, my grip tightening around the phone. The silence that followed was heavy, stretching out just long enough to feed my anxiety.

"She's...resting," Zeek finally said, his voice lacking its usual bravado. "She's had a rough day."

My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of frustration and fear. I didn't have a good feeling about this. Not after the last time. Not with the way Ray had been shutting me out today.

I hung up and grabbed my keys, a sense of urgency propelling me out the school. I wasn't going to wait around. I needed to see my Ray with my own eyes, to make sure she was okay.

Because the last time Zeek picked up her phone, she was too far gone to ask for help. And I wasn't about to let that happen again.

The moment I reached Zeek's house, I barged inside without knocking.

My eyes immediately fell on Zeek, who was sitting beside a passed-out Ray. A rush of panic surged through me as I sprinted towards them.

"What happened to her?" I demanded, my voice laced with urgency.

"I told you, man, she's resting," Zeek replied, his tone too casual for the situation.

I eyed Ray, her head slumped against Zeek's shoulder. Something felt off—more than off. It felt wrong. My heart pounded in my chest as I reached out and grabbed Zeek by the collar, yanking him to his feet. Ray's body slumped over and fell onto the couch the moment she lost Zeek's support, limp and unresponsive.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" I shouted, my voice echoing through the room, the rage and fear crashing over me in waves.

Zeek shoved me away, hard, his eyes flashing with anger. "I didn't fucking do shit. She thought it was a good idea to swallow a bunch of pills."

A cold dread settled in my gut, twisting like a knife. Deep down, I knew Zeek would never intentionally hurt her. He was trying to help her in his own twisted way, offering her a temporary escape from her pain. But couldn't he see that this wasn't helping her? It was only dragging her deeper into the darkness.

"Why the fuck would you give her pills?" I asked, my anger boiling over, threatening to spill into violence.

"I didn't," he seethed through clenched teeth. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides. "She found them herself and took them while I was on a call."

I glanced back at Ray, her face pale and her breathing shallow. She looked so fragile, like she could break at any moment. My anger ebbed, replaced by a sickening fear that gnawed at my insides. I knelt beside her, gently brushing the hair out of her face. She looked so peaceful, but I knew the turmoil she was hiding beneath the surface. The pain she was drowning in.

"We need to take her to the hospital."

"She's fine," Zeek waved a hand dismissively. "She didn't take that many. She's just gonna have a hell of a headache when she wakes up."

I wasn't convinced, but I didn't argue. Instead, I carefully lifted Ray's head and sat down, placing her head gently on my lap. Her skin felt cool against my hands, and her breathing, though steady, was unnervingly shallow.

I leaned back with a heavy sigh, exhaustion and worry weighing down on me. Zeek sat down on one of the other couches, his posture relaxed, but I could see the tension in his jaw and the way he kept glancing at Ray.

Now that my anger had started to simmer down, I could see that beneath the nonchalance Zeek was displaying, he was actually worried about Ray too. 

We sat in silence, waiting for Ray to wake up. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of her breathing and the occasional creak of the old leather couch as one of us shifted. Neither of us said a word, but the air between us was thick with unspoken worry.

Every so often, Zeek would look at Ray, shake his head, and sigh, looking away as if he couldn't bear to see her like this. His usual bravado was slowly withering away.

I gently stroked Ray's hair, trying to soothe both her and myself, as my mind raced with what-ifs. What if she had taken more? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to force myself to focus on the present, on the fact that she was still here, still breathing.

Eventually, Zeek spoke, breaking the heavy silence. "She's gonna be okay," he muttered, more to himself than to me, as if trying to convince himself of it.

I didn't respond. I just kept watching Ray's peaceful, yet unsettlingly still face, praying that when she woke up, things would be different—that maybe she'd finally see how much we both cared, how much we both needed her to stay with us.

After about an hour, Ray finally began to stir. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position with a groan. 

When she stood up from the couch, I immediately stood as well, ready to catch her if she faltered. She was still visibly weak, her legs unsteady beneath her. The last thing I wanted was for her to fall and hurt herself.

Zeek also stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. He pulled Ray into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Don't fucking do that again," he said, his voice gruff, betraying a mixture of anger and concern.

Ray didn't react. She was as still as a statue, her body rigid in his embrace. It was as if she was too drained to respond, her emotions locked away behind a wall she wasn't ready to breach.

A spike of jealousy surged through me, sharp and unexpected. As if sensing it, Zeek pulled away, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. He knew what he was doing, but the truth was, I couldn't really be angry at him. He was just as worried about Ray as I was.

On the way to her house, Ray was silent. The drive was heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension. At first, I wanted to take her to my place. I knew she slept better there but I had a feeling she wouldn't agree. She'd been trying to avoid me, to keep a distance between us, and I didn't want to push her further away.

I stole a glance at her as I drove. Her face was pale, her eyes fixed on something far beyond the windshield, lost in thoughts she wasn't ready to share. I wanted to reach out, to tell her everything would be okay, but the words got caught in my throat. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing, of pushing her further into the darkness she was already teetering on the edge of.

Instead, I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. All I could do was be there for her, to let her know she wasn't alone, even if she didn't want to talk. Even if she kept shutting me out.

When we finally pulled up to her house, I parked the car and turned to her, waiting for any sign, any indication of what she needed from me. But Ray remained silent, her expression unreadable. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but she was already opening the door and stepping out.

"Ray," I called out, but she didn't stop. She just gave a small wave without turning around, disappearing into her house before I could figure out what to do next.

The empty passenger seat felt like a void, and I sat there for a moment, staring at the spot where she'd been. I didn't know how to help her, but I knew I couldn't give up. Not now. Not ever.