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It's strange how feelings repeat themselves - like old wounds finding new ways to reopen. I thought I'd learned my lesson the first time. I thought I'd built walls strong enough to keep this from happening again. But she's in my head now, and it feels too familiar.
What the hell is happening to me?
It can't be happening again. Why can't I get her out of my head?
I'd fallen asleep thinking about her, and in the morning she was still there - lingering like that's where she belonged. The last time this happened, it didn't end well.
"We didn't get a bin."
"What?" I asked, startled. I hadn't been paying attention to Sandy.
"A bin," she repeated, lifting one brow.
"It has done what?" I blinked, completely lost.
"Really, Jolls? What's going on? You've been out of it since yesterday." Her tone stayed calm, but her eyes searched me.
"Nothing, Sandy. Everything's fine. Why do you always turn every little thing into a mountain?" I asked, playing the card I knew best.
"Don't start getting defensive. I know you, Jolls." She set the soda cans she'd been collecting onto the table. The pizza boxes, cans, and shopping boxes from yesterday still littered the floor.
"Nothing's wr-"
"Was that your mom yesterday?" she asked, cutting me off.
"Where?" I said, feigning ignorance.
"On the phone. Yesterday at Wills and Wills."
She took a long sigh before continuing. "I know you get defensive when it comes to your family. I'm worried about you, Jolls. It's not healthy to keep everything bottled up. You should talk it out. I'm here for you. And if you can't talk to me, then talk to someone - a professional. Everything you say to them will stay confidential."
My eyes began to sting. I couldn't let myself break down in front of her. Never.
I forced out a laugh, trying to make it sound real.
"And what makes you think I'm hurting? I'm fine, Sandy," I said, ignoring the crack in my voice.
"As I said, I know you. I'm your best friend. I'm done pretending. Just because I don't push doesn't mean I don't notice how much you're hurting." Her own voice trembled now. "If you won't talk to me, then you need to see someone - a professional."
"You want me to see a shrink? I can't believe this."
I shook my head hard. A warm tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.
"I'm gonna leave before I say or do something I'll regret," I muttered, reaching for my keys on the coffee table.
"Jolls," Sandy said, catching my wrist, her face streaked with tears.
"What!" I snapped, loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and yanked my hand free.
"I'm sorry. I'll stop. I won't bring it up again," she said, her body trembling.
"Just-" My phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting me off. For a second, I thought it was a blessing. Until I saw the message.
A notification from my bank: Money received from Mom.
"Great. Just what I needed," I said - or maybe shouted - before hurling my phone at the wall beside the TV. By some miracle, it didn't hit the screen.
"Jolls!" Sandy called, catching up as I reached the door. She wrapped her arms around me.
"What just happened?" she whispered, stroking my back.
"She happened!" I yelled, shoving her away. She fell backward, landing hard on the floor.
I'd never seen that look on her face before - fear mixed with confusion.
This is why I never talk about my family. Because once I do, people look at me like they don't know who I am.
My chest rose and fell faster. My breathing turned shallow; my eyes burned as the pressure built.
"She thinks she can just show up and be a mom again - after leaving me alone all those years. No. That's not how it works!" I burst out.
"And do you know what the worst part is?" I asked, forcing a small smile through the tears.
"You're just like her. You think something's wrong with me - that you can fix me."
Before she could speak, I grabbed the door handle.
"Lock the door when you leave," I said, slamming it shut behind me.
The moment I stepped outside, the tears I'd been holding back came pouring out, soaking my pajama top. I was still in my pajamas, but I didn't care. I walked aimlessly through the streets, ignoring the stares. A woman tried to approach me, but one glare sent her retreating.
I don't know how I ended up at the hotel, but that's where I found myself after what felt like forever. I went straight to the bar.
The bartender asked what was wrong, but I waved her off.
"Tequila. Shots," I said.
I don't know if it was my seventh or twelfth. I wasn't counting anymore.
Then, a blurry figure reached out and took my next shot from my hand.
"That's enough," a voice said - a voice I could never mistake.
It was calm, familiar. And then that scent - vanilla.
I wasn't dreaming. She was here.
"Come on, let's get you to your room," she said, wrapping her arms around me, trying to lift me up.
"Is this really you, Sam?" I mumbled, trying to bring her face close enough to see clearly. It was pointless.
"Yeah, it's really me," she said with a soft chuckle.
"You know... you look really pretty when you smile," I said, words slurring.
"Really? Only then?" she teased.
"No. Not only then." I laughed.
"Okay, come on. Let's go before you say things you'll regret tomorrow," she said, dragging me gently up.
"I already did. I was so mean to Sandy. She'll never forgive me," I cried loudly.
"Shhh, stop shouting. People are staring," she whispered, trying to calm me down.
"She'll leave me, and I'll be all alone again. I have to go apologize," I said, struggling against her hold.
"Come on, Jolls. Sandy will never leave you. You're her best friend - she loves you. Or else she wouldn't have put up with you all this time."
Those were the last words I heard before everything went quiet.
For once, the silence didn't scare me - it felt like peace.