The Story of Griffin Hawkins

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

 Week Two

 Friday

            Griffin and I continued to stare at each other for a few moments longer. It wasn’t until Griffin’s gaze left mine and focused on something behind me. I could see the muscle in his jaw clench before he looked at me and gave me a forced smile. I turned around and noticed a very distressed looking Harley. Harley was jealous.

            I faced Griffin once again, “I should go.” I told him.

            “Yeah, you should,” He replied coldly.

            “I’ll talk to you later,” I retorted. I felt somewhat hurt at his cold voice as I turned around to head back to Harley and Kim. As soon as I got closer, Harley said something to Kim and walked off. That hurt too. I shook my head as I stood next to Kim.

            “Just because he’s jealous doesn’t give him the right to act like a dick.” She yelled in my ear at seeing Harley talking to a blonde girl.

            I shrugged, “He’s hurt and that’s my fault.”

            “You can’t control your feelings for someone. He also needs to understand your situation.” She retorted.

            I nodded, “True, but I never fully told him the situation.”

            “Then maybe you two need to have a serious heart to heart.” She offered with a smile.

            “That very well may be true.” I responded and my eyes found Harley again, dancing provocatively with the blonde girl. I frowned, sensing a bit of jealousy myself. I glanced over to where Griffin and I stood, but he was no longer there.

            The rest of the night, I drank and Harley drank a lot. I tried to ignore everything, but I found myself alone. Kirsten and Kim danced, Harley danced with girls, and I was left alone at the bar to continue to drink. I didn’t see Griffin again and instead just wallowed in self-pity. I was surely pathetic to be at a bar and sitting there drinking alone. I blankly stared at my drink, wishing I hadn’t come out, when an arm slung over my shoulder.

            “Cay,” Harley whispered in my ear as he continued to press his body against mine.

            “What, Harley?” I inquired, avoiding eye contact and taking a long sip of my drink.

            “Whatever you’re mad at me for, please don’t be. I’m an idiot.” Harley retorted while swaying slightly. Harley was definitely drunk and now was the best time to have a conversation. Hopefully, he wasn’t too drunk to where he wouldn’t remember the conversation.

            I shook off his arm, paid my tab, and pulled Harley outside to the patio. “We need to talk, Harley.”

            “About?” He replied and leaned against the brick wall of the bar.

            “You just…” I started. “You can’t get mad at me for not liking you back or trying to be with you. It’s not something I can do right now. I need to focus on me, Harley.” I pointed a finger to my chest, trying to get him to understand. “My mental health is so much more important than a relationship with you, don’t you see that? Isn’t that something you want as well?”

            “Of course, Cay!” He argued and ran his hands through his hair.

            “Then just stop with the jealousy behavior, please?” I begged. “I do need you, Harley. I told you that, but I need you as a friend.” I begged for him to understand where I was coming from.

            “It’s so hard to do that when I’m in love with you!” He exasperated.

            I pointed at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, “You did not say that earlier! You said you liked me a lot, not that you were in love with me!” I threw back as tears welled in my eyes. Harley was in love with me? What was so great about me? I must have voiced that because Harley looked at me like I had three heads.

            “What so great about you, Cay?” He mocked, “You really don’t see your worth, do you?” I shook my head. “Cay, you’re absolutely amazing.” He exasperated as tears slowly fell down my face.

            “No, I’m not Harley. I have way too many issues to be anywhere near amazing.” I told him, my breath getting caught in my throat. The wind whipped around, but I couldn’t feel a thing.

            “That’s not true, not even close!” Harley argued. I shook my head, not believing a word he was saying. “God, Cay. You’re stunningly beautiful, you are so intelligent, you’re funny, you’re laidback, and down-to-earth. You’re someone people want to be around!”

            Tears continued to spill over and down my face. “No, I’m not.”

            He snorted, “You can’t change how I feel and how I see you.”

            I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t want to stand there talking about how Harley feels about me, when I didn’t feel the same and it hurt. I quickly made my way to the door, but Harley grabbed my arm.

            “Don’t run from me, Cay.” His copper-eyes bore into mine.

            “I want to go home,” I admitted wiping my eyes. He gave a curt nod and led me through the door. He got our jackets and put it on me, I wrapped my arms around myself. We found Kim and told her we were leaving. Kim found Kirsten and the four of us went back to Kim’s.

            Kim wasn’t a drinker, so when she drove us back to her place, she saw the look on my face with tears and decided to drive me home. I thanked her as Harley gave me an apologetic look before we drove off.

            “Are you going to be okay?” She inquired as we pulled up to my driveway.

            “I’ll be fine,” I told her and gave her the best fake smile I could muster. I lied; I lied straight to Kim’s face. I wasn’t okay; I wasn’t fine. I hated myself even more for Harley harboring feelings for me. I wanted him to stop because it wasn’t helping me.

            When I made my way up to my room, I remembered the little knife I had kept from freshman year of high school. I felt the overwhelming urge to cut myself again. I dug through my nightstand drawer and pulled out an old-style tin lunchbox. I dug through old letters, pictures, and found at the very bottom the knife that I had used before.

            I took it in my hand and I knew there was no going back. I never cut on my wrists ever, that was a no go for me. I took off my pants and sat on the floor in my underwear. The blade glistened in the light from my lamp and I bit my lip as I glided the blade against my skin. Blood started to seep through the small cut I made and I was suddenly disgusted in myself.

            This never made me feel better. It was stupid and it was pointless. I threw the knife back into the lunchbox, burying it deep in the drawer. I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as I began to cry at how pathetic I was. I put a bandage on myself, got ready for bed and crawled in.

            I sobbed in my bed at how worthless I was.