"This story is about the boy I loved. This is about his suffering. This is about my suffering. All of it due to one thing. Affluenza."
TW : Key themes of suicide.
Sebastian Grey. Golden boy, trust fund baby, and Braylen Adams' mortal enemy. Braylen...
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I DIAL THE number with shaky hands, gnawing on my lip as it rings. She answers by the fourth sound and then I really feel the nerves begin.
"I am the crappiest best friend ever. You have every right to hate me for ignoring you all week and I'm so sorry. But I really, really need you right now. Like, life changing. Life shattering. What are you doing?"
It takes her a few moments to respond. When she does, her voice is almost embarrassed. "Um...I'm driving," Robyn replies.
Hope deflated inside of me. "Oh. Oh, okay. If you're going somewhere, then maybe we can meet up later? I just really, really need my best friend right now."
I finger with the threads on my bed's blanket, feeling my chest well up. She probably wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't even sure I could blame her.
"You do?" she asks, voice tentative.
I sigh hopefully. "More than anything."
Robyn chuckles softly. "Then check outside your window."
My brows furrowed a bit as I try to understand what she meant. When common sense smacks me upside the head I jump to my feet and over to my window, hope welling up in me. Her car is there, parked in my driveway. I press the phone up to my ear. "How did you get here so fast?"
"I was already on the way," she admits sheepishly. "Now, let me in, you dork!"
I run as fast as I can down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. I pull open the door and she's there, her previously black hair slightly different with blonde strands in the front framing her face. Her smile was bright and lacked the resentment I'd been expecting and I nearly die of relief.
"I'm so sorry!" I practically scream at her, pulling her into a hug. I bury my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of strawberries and cinnamon. "I should've talked to you about what I was going through instead of pushing you away. I'm scum. I'm worse than scum. I'm the next thing."
Robyn pulls back, grabbing my cheeks and forcing me to look at her. "You're not. You're the best person I know. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you ignoring you. As you can see, I can hardly spend a whole week away from you."
I hug her again. She hugs me back, strong as always before pulling away. "Okay. We should talk. I missed a whole week of your life; I'd like to be informed."
Ten minutes later we're bundled up on my bed, drinking peppermint tea in my aunt's favorite mugs. "Okay," Robyn says. "Spill."
"I guess we'd have to start with last weekend. After the party," I recollect, breathing softly on my tea. "I ended up telling my aunt and his parents that he was in trouble. He didn't exactly like that."
