Sorry, Not Sorry

-10

Suddenly it occurs to me that I'm in Max's room, Alone. I decide I can't just stand there like a lost child, so I go over to his bedside and look at the book. It's face down, so I can't see the cover or title, but I don't want to intrude so much as touching his stuff while he's not here, so I just read the back. He places a hand on my shoulder. "Ok, snoopy" he says as he spots me reading the book.

"Ah!" I jump back, falling into an armchair in the corner of his room. "Sorry." I say.

"It's ok." He says. "I'm sure your wondering why I'm reading a book when I have a reading disability, huh?"

"I'd honestly forgotten, but that's a good question." I say, stretching.

"I enjoy reading." He explains. "But it aggravates me so much when I can't do it as good as others can."

"Well that's not really your fault." I say with a shrug.

He flops back on his bed. "Not really my fault?"

"I mean-" I say, getting defensive quickly. "I didn't mean it like-" is say.

I've been around people so long today that my social battery has been extra drained- my body and been holding on for as long as I could, but my brain is done with acting normal, apparently. Yay.

"Hey, it's ok. I was only joking. You know that's not what I meant." He says, sitting on his bed.

"Yeah... "

"Can you read this for me?" He says, stretching his body to reach the book and place it in my lap.

"Read the..?"

"The back." He says. Pointing.

"I mean I already did." I say, flipping the book to the cover. I run my fingers over the indentations of the hardcover. "They Both Die At The End?" I say. "That sounds kinda... Gruesome."

"I'm not finished yet." He says. "I've heard it's sad. Read." He points to the blurb. The books a special edition, and the cover is golden with teal details.

"Uh- live a lifetime in a single day- meet Mateo and Rufus as they embark on one last iconic adventure." I pause, reading the reviews on the back. "Huh. Is this gay?" I ask.

"Yep." He says, looking away from me.

After a little, I break our silence. "Thank you." I say, putting the book down. "That... surprisingly did help."

He shrugs. "Danny's done with your room now." He says.

"Uh- Thanks." I say awkwardly, gazing in at the room.

"Goodnight." He says, shutting the door with a smile.

"I'll do it next time, Ok?" I add, once he's closed the door.

I sit myself down on the bed, head in my hands.

I immediately feel like a terrible person, a terrible friend. My throat closes up, and I need something to drink, so I reach into my bag and pull out a lukewarm bottle of water. After slurping it down I lay my head back on the wall. My fist bangs against my thigh as I pull my phone charger from out of my bag, and plug it into the wall. I walk over to the light switch and turn it off.

I lie on my side, under the covers- but then I feel too hot, so I lie atop the covers, but even then, I'm too hot. And gross. My clothes are dirty from being worn all day and I haven't washed my hands. I pull my shirt off, throwing it in a heap near the door.

I huff back onto the bed, lying facing the wall. This wall also has a window, identical to the one in Max's. I soon realise the room is a mirror of Max's, though without all the extra decor. Lacy curtains flap in the breeze after I open the window.

Today had been good. Why'd I have to ruin it with getting pissy at the lastminute? What if Danny and Max kick me out, and never talk to me again? They'll talk to Kitty and she'll get Katherine to kick me out of the classes, and I'll never have a chance to apologize, since they'll all have blocked me. I'll have to sit like a loser staring at their empty Instagram pages, refreshing until I die.

Or maybe they'll forgive me. We'll meet up again and again until one day my body decides I don't deserve them, and I blow up. Yelling would be involved, maybe crying. Cursing probably. No matter what, I can't see any good outcomes for me.

But they've given me a chance so far. Given me space when I needed it. But I don't think I deserve it. I haven't exactly been the best friend. I go nonverbal if I don't try hard enough to speak, and I'm sure if they had it their way I'd shut up forever, and fade out of existence, never to be seen again, only a story that real friends tell, huddled around a campfire, bug spray lingering in the air, s'mores in hand, snakes in the bush and dust under their feet. No sight of me though.

I don't get much sleep that night.