Silent Solitude

Chapter 21

It seemed to me, that stars could blink in and out of existence just as fast as human lives could. Typically, starts didn't just disappear. But, on rare occasions, when a star failed to get into a supernova, it would fall into black holes.

The black hole represented death. The only difference was that death wasn't rare.

It was all around us. Everyone experienced some sort of death at some point in their life—death of a family member, a friend, a friend of a friend, or a pet. Sometimes, I wondered if death was in the works for me, plotting my inevitable demise. That was all I could think about for the past few days. I'd holed up in my room, only joining Indigo once for dinner.

I wished a black hole would swallow me up right about now.

I'd kissed him.

What had I been thinking?

I'd been sitting with the information for nearly a week. I hadn't seen Roman since. Indigo said that he and Austin had been reticent recently, Austin had come down with a cold or flu. She thought he was in a bad mood and didn't want to speak to any of us, which seemed like the more believable answer.

I was pleasantly surprised when Leslie texted me this morning asking to meet up for lunch at a cafe.

I had agreed, after being cooped up—simultaneously avoiding my parents and distracted from what happened a few days ago—that I was long overdue for a distraction.

Count on Leslie to make that simple.

"Josephine!"

I turned from where I stood at the entrance of a small cafe. Leslie was tucked in a booth by the corner, waving at me. I tried to ignore the flask just sitting openly on the table.

"Hey Leslie, sorry were you waiting long?" I asked in greeting, sliding into the seat across her. She shook her head, black hair fanning her face as she moved.

"Only five minutes, I love your shirt, by the way, it's so cute."

I felt myself stiffen. She was drunk. Not enough to show it, but I could tell. Her eyes were flitting from side to side like she was unable to keep her focus. Her movements were slow and exaggerated.

"How much have you had to drink?" I asked her carefully, plastering a small smile to keep her from panicking. I wasn't sure if she was aware of how not-so-subtle she was being. To me, at least.

Her face fell, though only for a fraction of a second. "I have a secret," She whispered with a goofy, drunken grin. I looked around the cafe, it was quiet, nobody there but us and a waitress minding the cashier.

"What's your secret Leslie?" I asked, keeping my voice low to match hers. Best not to freak her out, remain normal.

She let out a quiet giggle. "I don't even remember the last time I wasn't drunk," she confessed, flailing her head around. "I think I'm an alcoholic Josephine, isn't that funny?" her voice was overly shocked, as if she wasn't the one telling me this.

I allowed myself on minute of silence to stare at her.

Perfectly composed, all bright smiles and laughs Leslie, an alcoholic.

The waitress pretended to ignore our conversation as I called her over. I got the bill, paid quickly, and told her not to mention this to anyone. You could never be too careful in a small town like this one.

I got her into my car, gave her a bottle of water, and pulled her seatbelt over her.

"Have you told anyone, Leslie?" I asked, my voice as soft as I could get it.