Madrugada

Kailey is probably having sex with David right now. Apparently that's why she couldn't meet me in the junkyard, our usual spot. And I'm not upset because I'm jealous or anything. It's just that she's done this a lot whenever I've needed her ever since Lucas abandoned me a couple weeks ago. It's fine, though. I'll tell her I'm mad later.

I decide to show Jack the junkyard instead. We've hung out a lot lately, gone on late night drives and grabbed pizza after school. He'll appreciate the charming ugliness of the junkyard, like I do. "This place is really cool," he says when I brake the car there and he steps out, rotating slowly to look at the abandoned vehicles and rusted scrap metal. "I had no idea you came here. Is this where you guys hang a lot?" His face is too excited when he looks at me. "You're so cool, Amanda. I don't know anyone else that does this."

"Me more than the rest of them," I say, and take a drag on my cigarette. I can feel him staring at me, that wary, wide-eyed look like a lost soul. Like he's captivated by me. It's familiar, and it scares me.

"Stop it," I say, finally turning to look at him.

His voice is high. "I didn't say anything..." I shrug. "Yeah, well, you don't need to. It's written on your face." 

I falter as he continues his questioning looks. "You...you think I'm this manic pixie dream girl because I smoke and hang out in junkyards and drive you places at 2 AM because I can," I push the long hair off my shoulders and lean back on the hood of the car so I'm staring up at the sky, the ashes drifting to the ground. "And you like me because of it. But it's a trope: I'm not a free spirit. I'm just sad and lonely and fucked up inside."

I lean on the hood of the car. Lucas would grabbed the cigarette out of my hands and take a drag before stomping it on the ground, ending my addiction right there. He didn't think I was a manic pixie dream girl, but that was when I was still me. When I was actually happy, and someone loved me back, and we kissed a lot, and I never drank or anything.

Whatever.

I open my eyes again, and glance to where Lucas would have been. Jack's there instead, his round face and curly hair in stark contrast to the person I'd seen in that spot before. This boy is cautious, naive, and unfamiliar with heartache. Unfamiliar with love. And that's the only thing that made me up at this point. I am someone else now — Lucas had taken me away from me. "Fuck this," I mutter. Jack hasn't looked away. I wish he would. "Not you," I make a move to sit up. The metal is starting to burn where it touches the skin on my legs. "Just...life. And people. Everyone fucking sucks."

"Amanda," he says my name so gently it makes me stiffen. "I'm sorry about what happened to you. I don't know why Lucas left town. He seemed really happy."

When he wasn't distant. Or fidgeting, worried, checking his phone all the time the weeks before he left. Leaving my house early, making up excuses but always making time for me, like he couldn't make up his mind that he wanted to see me or not. Was I enough? Or was there someone better out there, enough for him to leave me alone in the junkyard?

"Apparently he wasn't if he just left," I wave Jack away with my cigarette. "You don't realize how much you give to someone until you understand that you're nothing without them. And there are no promises, no matter what you say."

"Hey..." I hear the rustle of clothing and his hand on my shoulder. "That's not true."

"Unfortunately, it is." I slide off the hood of the car, his fingers trying to grasp my shoulder for a little too long. "There. You know me now. And that's all you've ever known of me." I drop the cigarette. "You don't know what I was like before, when Lucas was here and Kailey was actually still my friend. How much better I was. Now I'm me today and I'm...nothing but sadness and angst and I just drag everyone down." I snuff out the cigarette with my sneaker, destroying its last smoky breath.

Jack doesn't say anything for a moment. "It's not like you're suddenly codependent if you wish someone could fix you." He says at last. "Fixing yourself is hard."

I look at him for a long time. "You're right."

He breaks into a grin, my validation giving him courage. He shifts closer and gives me a short hug while I stay unmoving. "I'm here for you, Amanda," he says into my bony shoulder. "That's what friends are for."

He wants to fix me, and I know he can't. He know he won't know how to get rid of my cigarettes. Not like Lucas did. But I smile and say "thank you." Not because I mean it. But because he's trying.