Wish You Were Here

Part 20: Miss You

I had to text Rachel to tell her I'm running away from my problems again, but I hope this time she understands. We weren't terribly far from the house, so it's only ten minutes before I see the familiar black car pull into the lot.

As soon as the car stops he runs out, helping me up from where I had slumped down onto the ground against the wall. He pulls me in for a brief hug and helps me to the car, closing the door softly behind me.

"Do you want to talk about it?'' he asks as we pull back on to the street, I let out a sigh and run my hands through my curled hair.

"He started talking about how she'd do anything for people she cared about. She left me... she was checked out before he even died and I had to take care of him like I wasn't a fucking kid. I just got up and ran out, I couldn't listen to it and I feel like shit. I still felt like I owed her even after everything she did, but it wasn't ever fair. Where was she when I was hurting, when I needed my mom, when I graduated, or got a publishing contract?"

My tears are falling steadily in black streaks down my face and the lump in my throat makes the words harder to get out.

"You don't owe her anything. I wish I could take those years of pain away, but no one can now. I blamed myself for years over my dad abandoning us, but it was a choice he made. You don't owe her forgiveness, or your time. She should be glad that you showed up to the hospital after everything she put you through. You became everything you are without her help, and you will continue to thrive without her. I promise that you are one of the kindest, funniest, selfless, and emotionally intelligent people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing and you did it without her help."

I look over at him in awe, taking in the sincere look in his eyes. He grabs my hand from my lap and gives it a small squeeze before dropping it again. I knew Ashton was a nice guy, truly one of the kindest and most caring people and I'm lucky to know him. I'm luckier that he cares about me and has such kind words to say about me, it's enough to warm my heart and dry my eyes.

We finally reach the house after a few more minutes, and before we step inside I thank him again for everything. Of course he just shrugs it off like he didn't save me from crying outside of the funeral home until it was over.

"Cass... why are you back so soon? Where's Rachel?" I'm bombarded the second we walk into the living room. Luke and Michael are on the couch and pause whatever game they've been playing to give me their full attention. I began to fill them in about the speech, and how it rubbed me the wrong way and I had to get out of there. I receive nods of understanding, eyes full of sorrow, and two big hugs in return.

After my eventful afternoon I've decided that it's late enough to start drinking. It's past two in the afternoon, so I figure it's not terrible. I pull down a shot glass and some flavored vodka from the cabinet, and pour a glass of juice to use as a chaser. I don't even care that I'm still wearing the tight black dress I bought for the funeral, or that I have black streaks left on my face.

"Is that the best idea, Cass? It's the middle of the afternoon." Luke says walking into the kitchen as I set the shot glass back down, scrunching my face up and sipping my juice.

"Hmm time isn't always on your side, Lu." I quote him in a snarky voice.

He rolls his eyes at me, and grabs a second shot glass from the cabinet along with a drink from the fridge.

"Least I can do is supervise." He takes the seat next to me with a smirk and immediately throws back a shot.

— — —

It's been two hours, we both lost count of the number of shots we've done. I know he's done more than I have but I also think his tolerance is higher. I do know at some point we emptied the first bottle, but it wasn't even half full when I pulled it out. We've been giggling non stop and talking about nothing and everything.

"You know I still think about you all of the time." His words start slurring and I feel my chest tighten. I don't like where this is going.

"What do you mean? I'm still here." I try to laugh it off and reach for the bottle again, but he grabs my wrist to stop me.

"I never stopped thinking about how badly I messed up with you. I really like you, and I miss kissing you."

I shake my head at him and rip my hand back away from him, he doesn't mean that.

"You're drunk." I mumble and rub my wrist, I hadn't noticed how tight his grip was.

"I am, yes. That doesn't mean I don't know how I feel about you."

This is bad

I stand up and the room is spinning. My legs feel weak beneath me and my heart is hammering in my chest. I'm flashing back to that night at the bar, how drunk I was, how he didn't seem to care at all. He left me there for her while I stumbled around alone.

"No, you don't. If you did you wouldn't have left with that girl in the first place. You would've come after me and you wouldn't have kissed her if I meant as much to you as you're acting like I do. I don't need this right now." I'm slurring heavily and trying to keep my vision straight as I stumble towards the door.

"I don't wanna hear about it again. I'm tired of the lies that fly out of your mouth. You'll never understand how bad you hurt me that night and it's not fair to keep digging that knife in." I spit back in his direction as I make my way out into the hallway, keeping my hand on the wall to steady myself. I get out into the living room and am met by three sets of eyes staring blankly at me from the couch.

"Cass, are you okay?" Ray asks standing up and coming over to me. I'm standing up straight but swaying slightly without something to hold on to.

"Oh what the hell are you drunk?!" She yells at me and I shrink back,

"Yes, Rachel I am. Things are going so well for me that I just had to celebrate." I slur at her, it's catching up to me again and I'm hit with a sharp rage digging into my chest.

Luke stumbles into the room after me, and everyone's eyes turn to him and go wide. Rachel mutters something under her breath and glares at him.

"Cass, would you just listen to me please." He begs, struggling to keep himself upright.

"I told you no and I asked you not to bring it up again. Can you respect at least one thing I ask of you?" I snap at him harsher than I intended to and he flinches.

I look over to the couch and see matching looks of shock and concern have washed over Mike and Ashton. After a moment of silent glares between Rachel and Ash he gets up and starts whispering to Luke. They disappear up the stairs together a moment later.

"I don't want to hurt him... When did everything get like this? I feel so guilty... How am I the one who feels guilty when he hurts me? He told me he still has feelings but I just can't. What if he hates me now like Cal does?" I start rambling on about it all as she leads me to sit next to Michael on the couch.

She sits down next to me and takes in my appearance, the same dress from earlier, fresh tears beginning to wash away the previous dried marks.

"Hon you've been through a lot lately. I know it hurts so much, but you can't blame yourself for his mistakes. I know you and I know you hate seeing your friends hurt, but he did this to himself." She sits next to me and I lean my head on her shoulder, sniffling slightly.

"He doesn't hate you, neither of them do and I'm sure of it. Luke's just a drunk idiot, and Cal is... a sober idiot I guess." Michael says with a chuckle,

"Then why won't he look at me or talk to me? It wasn't supposed to be like this, none of it was. I was supposed to come here and get over Luke so I could be okay again."

"You should talk to Cal. He's just being stubborn. As for Luke I'm sure he'll feel like an idiot when he sobers up. " Rach encourages, but I lift my head up and shake from side to side. I've bitten the inside of my cheeks raw the past few weeks but I just can't stop. It's like I'm always holding in more tears but I can't believe I have any left.

"I need a nap." I mutter as I push myself up to stand, wobbling slightly. They both seem to decide not to stop me so I stumble my way up the stairs. I've hardly slept since I got that first call from Ron and I'm surprised I haven't collapsed.