“So, how’s it going so far?” Grady questioned as I pulled the phone closer to my ear.

“Fine I guess. Just saw Kyleigh, James, Jackie and my dad.” I grabbed the TV dinner from the microwave, but quickly set it on the desk with a yelp.

“You saw Jackie? And your dad?” Grady sounded shocked and startled. I started sucking on my index finger, wounded from the hot dish.

“Yeah. Jackie was . . . well Jackie,” I replied grabbing my leftover coffee from yesterday and sticking it in the microwave.  “She hasn’t changed a bit, still a nasty person. And I only saw my dad. He was talking about finding me, and then he started to talk about Adena.”

“And you didn’t tell him you were there? You know, you’ll have to face him eventually.” Plopping down on the bed, the food and coffee forgotten, I sighed.

“I know . . .” He was right as usual, but it was still hard thinking about the things I had to do.

“What have you been doing besides seeing a bunch of people?” His voice became faint and I realized he was arguing with Victoria quietly about something. “Sorry, she wants to say hi.”

“Hey Victoria,” I smirked, laying back on the bed and putting an arm under my head to support it. “And I haven’t been doing anything, just walking around.”

“No drinking right?” I held my breath. Should I tell him the truth? Tell him how I had really been spending my last few days? The microwaved beeped, and I sprang out of bed. Opening the microwave, I pulled the cup out.

"Of course not," I lied. Taking a sip from the cup, my face scrunched in disgust. Charging towards the bathroom, I spit the coffee out in the sink.

"You hesitated," Grady spoke, suspicion clear in his tone.

"Sorry, I was burning my finger on crappy microwave meals. I'm fine, I promise." I lied again.

"Dylan, you and I both know that wasn't the truth."

"What? I can't be fine?" I immediately shot back. I could feel his glare coming through the phone. I walked back to the main room and plopped down into the desk chair.

"Dylan. You know what I meant," I forced out a laugh.

"Grady, I really did burn my finger. And I just drank horrible coffee. So I guess I lied. I am not fine. I have horrible food and horrible coffee." I replied, hoping he would buy it and leave the drinking alone.

"Okay, fine." Grady sighed. "So, tomorrows the big day."

I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't think about it.

"Yeah . . . Hey! How are you and Victoria doing? You guys still good?" I attempted to turn the conversation in the opposite direction, hoping that Grady would get the hint and let it go.

"Dylan, I’m not stupid. You're trying to distract me. Are you ready for tomorrow?" I sighed, falling back down onto the bed.

"No . . ." I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"It's not exactly something you can prepare for," Grady attempted to comfort as I leapt from the bed, pacing around the room.

"It's not something I should have to get ready for on my own." I mumbled to himself.

I heard Grady pause for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Dylan."

"It's fine, just drop it."

"Oh come on. I know you're pissed off. I can hear it in your voice. I'm sorry I didn't come with, okay? It was just . . . work and stuff-"

"Save it Grady. I've been through so much over the past few days, it's made me sick." That and the alcohol. "If you’re forcing me to face my demons, fine! But if you're not going to do it yourself, then I don't really need a lecture." Having lost my appetite, I tossed the microwave dinner into the small waste basket. Grady sighed.

"You two fight like an old married couple," I could faintly hear Victoria exclaim in the background.

"This isn't the time," Grady grumbled at her.

"She's right you know. We do tend to sound like a couple. So, instead of us playing house tonight why don't you and your girlfriend argue instead, hmm?"

"Dylan, you're being unfair-"

"I'm exhausted anyway," I interrupted with a fake yawn. "Goodnight."

"Dylan wai-" I cut Grady off by ending the call. I didn't like being mean to Grady. After all, I knew he was only trying to help.

Sometimes, however, I just couldn't stop myself.

I tossed the phone onto the bed and ran my hands through my disheveled hair. Shaking my head, I darted to the bathroom, flicked the sink on, and ran my hands under the faucet before splashing my face with the cool water.

I peered up into the reflection in the mirror.

The reflection stared back at me. My eyes took in what he looked like. He needed a haircut and a shave for one thing. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were chapped too. He even looked a little thin in the face and I could only guess he was thin everywhere else as well.

The person in the mirror wasn't me. It wasn't who I used to be, anyway.

What would Adena say if she saw me like this?

Would Adena be ashamed of me? Would she be disgusted by not only the way I looked, but the way I was? What would she say about all the nights at the bar? All the mornings I had woken up, groggy and drooling? What about all the times I had sobbed in the middle of the night after seeing her in my dreams?

I started backing away from the reflection of the person . . . the thing that I became. But my legs smacked into the edge of the tub; I had nowhere to go. I couldn't escape the reflection.

I couldn't escape my thoughts.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I rushed from the bathroom and, in my haste to get out, crashed to the ground, gasping.  The rug burns I felt were nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I had my jacket on and a foot out the door ready to run across the street and drink the sorrows away as usual. However, I couldn't stop thinking about Adena and what she would say.

Surprisingly, it was my thoughts of Adena that got me to close the door, take my jacket off and sit on the edge of the bed to calm down. It surprised me so because she was usually the reason I would get so upset.

My heart tore at the little thought that she was here and trying to help me. I could feel the sobs ready to burst from my chest and I knew then that the only way I could avoid trouble would be to sleep.

I slid under the covers and turned the light out. I fell asleep to a single thought. Would the person I am know be good enough for Adena?

***

The next morning found me at the toilet, sick to my stomach. Any second I felt as if I was going to throw up my microwave breakfast. I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't go back to Adena's house.

I couldn't look her father in the eye.

What would I say to him? What would he do when he saw me? I darted from the bathroom and into the bedroom. Snatching my cellphone off the table, I dialed Kyleigh. She answered on the fourth ring.

"What's up?"

"I changed my mind. I can't do this anymore!" I shouted, pacing around the room in agony.

"Dylan! No!" She shouted.

"I . . . I can't go back there! I can't go to that house and look him in the eye! I can't do it!"

"Dylan. I know it feels like you can't. I know this is so unbelievably hard for you. But you need to do this. If not for you, then for Adena. You and I both know she would have wanted you to go and see whatever her father wants to give you." I started thinking about what she was saying.

"How long do I have before Quinton comes back home?" I questioned, deciding to at least avoid the one person who hated me more than I hated myself.

"I'm taking Quinton out to lunch. It'll buy you plenty of time . . . It's going to be alright."

I shook my head. "I've heard that so many times, it's turned into a load of crap. It's never going to be alright."

I wasn't sure why I had just said that. It had just fallen out of my mouth. Kyleigh took in a deep breath.

"I mean it, Dylan. I mean it with all my heart." And I believed her.

I hadn't been able to say that in a while.

"Thank you," I whispered. Kyleigh froze on the other end of the phone, probably taken aback.

"You deserve to be happy." She said before she hung up. Setting the phone back onto the table, I shuffled to the bed. Sitting down at the edge, I took in a deep breath. Did I deserve to be happy? I had heard it before. Grady had told it to me a few times, same with Victoria. I just never listened, always shooed it off.

Now, I was actually considering it.

A knock sounded at the door. It was gentle, almost hesitant. It broke me from my thoughts. Who could it be? Trudging toward the door, I wrapped my fingers around the handle and threw it open.

I froze, confused and startled.

"Grady?"