[Discontinued]

Villain

I stare at his phone. What just happened? He hung up on me. Scott hung up on me. The moment he confirmed that I wasn't in mortal peril, he hung up. I knew there was a possibility he might not want to talk to me, but I wasn't expecting this. I thought he cared. He called me at least ten thousand times. Admittedly, he stopped in September, but that was just because he gave up, not because he was actually mad... right?

Maybe this was some kind of game. Maybe Scott is messing with my head and trying to get the upper hand. He has the leverage. I stopped speaking to him without explanation, so he can guilt trip me. Maybe he'll wait for me to beg before he'll listen.

Or maybe he's done with me. Maybe he was only ever my friend for the perks: the seaside mansion to visit after school every day, the fancy birthday presents, the influence, everything. There was no denying that we really were friends, but maybe it didn't mean as much to him. He could befriend anyone, so maybe he just picked out the richest kid. Maybe he has new friends now, friends who play volleyball with him, who aren't so cynical, who don't ditch him at parties... friends who trust him. He has classmates who actually care about psychology, not just about how much he cares about it. He has Avi, the thug with the dragon tattoos.

Maybe it was just a dropped call. Maybe, just this once, I should give him the benefit of the doubt. That's how you get played, how you lose everything you've ever worked for in the blink of an eye, how you get conned, but I'm desperate. Desperate enough to trust a con man, just this one and just this once. I take a deep breath and call again. It rings. Nobody picks up.

I've been denying it so long. The realization soaks in all at once and crushes my heart with the weight of the ocean. Scott really, truly, genuinely cared, and now, after seven months of mistreatment, he's angry. He's hurt, and he has every right to be because I hurt him.

I hug myself and bite my lip to put off crying a little longer. I shouldn't shed tears over this. It was for the best. It stings, but now I know. I won't have to struggle anymore. Being alone will be easier now I know it's all I have. I held my resolve for seven months, and but now there's nothing to resist anymore.

Seven months. I swallow the pain in my throat, but there's too much lodged too tightly, like I'm trying to swallow a boulder, and it only hurts more. Maybe there's no point in crying, but there's no point in resisting it either. I did this to myself. In seven months, I could have forgotten him, yet I fixated on him all this time like he could make it better, like he could solve it the way he always wanted to, the way he tried to like no one else ever bothered to. Nobody else knew, but neither did he, and he still tried.

My body overcomes my will and starts trying to purge my emotions through tears and snot and grimaces, but it only makes me tired and achy. It tries harder. Twenty minutes pass, and I'm still crying, and now I know it's not just bad service or a low battery. Thirty minutes pass, and I'm still crying, and now I know Scott wasn't just waiting to get back home before calling me back. An hour passes, and I'm trying so hard to stop, but I'm crying again because now it's been an hour and I know he's not going to call back to matter how many times I call. Each time I try it hurts worse. An hour has passed, and now I know that I've destroyed something precious. I should have appreciated it while I still had it. I should never have let it go. I never should have pushed him away.

I have to get him back. Maybe it's normal for good friends to never speak to each other again after high school, but I was foolish to think that I could give my dearest friend up that easily. I have to get my life together. I have to fix this.

I need to get out. On some level, I've always known that. Once they money stops coming in, I'm going to do it. I'm going to pack my bags and move to San Francisco. I'm going to free myself. I have money. I don't have any real talents, but I have money. I'll become a venture capitalist. I'll find people who do have talent and find ways to profit off them. Maybe I'll be good at it. I can see through charm and charisma and spin better than most. I don't think I'll enjoy it, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is leaving.

I wish it were that easy. You can't just leave the mob. If I were anyone else, I'd be shot dead at best. I'm not optimistic about the prospect of convincing my parents to let me go. Maybe I should talk to them, but they already know how hopeless I am, and they still expect me to fix it somehow. It's not happening. No, I can't talk to them. I don't want to, but I have to disappear without warning if I want half a chance. They'll find me, though, and they'll be furious. They'll force me back any way they can, and it will work. They'll sabotage all my attempts at a legitimate life. They'll send people to drag me back by my ankles if necessary. I can't be seen out of line. They have a reputation they have to uphold. They'll ruin me financially until I come crawling back, and if that doesn't work, they'll threaten Scott. They'll do more than just threaten. It's better if they believe we're not friends anymore and I've stopped caring. He can't be seen around here.

I want to be able to talk to Scott without worrying he might let something slip that will get me arrested. I want to fall asleep at night without worrying about what he'll do when I'm gone, perhaps when my body washes up, perhaps when my car explodes, perhaps when I'm found with a head full of bullets, or perhaps when I just vanish. Scott doesn't want to talk to me, though, and I can't blame him.

I'll find a way. I'll find a way to get out, and then I'll find a way to make him come around, whatever it takes. I shouldn't have called so soon, though. I have to wait until I get out, until I'm safe. I'm determined now. If my parents threaten me, I'll threaten them right back. My testimony could destroy them both, and I could definitely negotiate immunity for my own crimes if I turned on them. But then they'd kill me. They wouldn't want to, but they'd have to. There's no way this ends well for me. I'm starting to seriously consider staging my own abduction and murder.

My phone rings. Scott! I move to answer, but my hand stops. This is all a trick. Scott wants to be the one who called. He wants to be the one in control. That's why he made me wait. I should ignore it and call back tomorrow. As if. "Scott?"

"I'm so sorry. I was in the middle of a final. I had to tell them my Dad was in critical condition, and even then they were complete jerks. They put it on speakerphone and hung up when it wasn't from the hospital... Talk to me. I want to hear your voice."

"H-how was your test?"

"A-."

"You seem awfully sure about that." My heart is racing.  I wonder whether Scott can hear how heavily I'm breathing.

"I skipped a couple problems so I could call back, but everything else is right."

"How do you know? You cheated!" Scott never cheats on tests or homework. He actually cares about learning.

"Yep. Didn't really need to, since all my answers matched the person in front of me, but it saved me the time of double-checking." He made an exception so he could get back to me.

"I'm sorry. How's psych going?" It's all too easy to talk around the elephant in the room.

"Mostly stuff I already know so far. I'm in a glee club now, though, so that's fun. And I have a cool landlord. He doesn't mind my less than perfectly legal activity, right Avi?"

I hear a low rumble that sounds approximately like, "As long as I'm invited."

"Always! So that's my partner in crime."

"I wish I had a partner in crime." My face is twisted, but I still made it sound like a joke.

"No you don't," Scott sighs. "Not me, anyway."

"You more than anyone. But I can't... we just can't talk about it."

"Mitch, what's wrong?"

I almost burst into tears again. "I missed you." It isn't really answer, but it's all I can say.

"I'm on my way."

"No! You can't come. We can't talk. I'm sorry. Just please... tell me I can make it."

"You're going to make it, Mitch. You can do it."

"I... Thank you. Goodbye, Scott."

"No!"

"We'll talk again. I'm just not ready yet. Thanks for everything." I feel like a villain when I hang up.