I still remember cutting after I got home from Ryker’s house the night he pushed me. I was suffocating under the fear and guilt that breaking up with him had pushed him over an edge I didn’t realize he was standing so close to. I stormed through our door, and Tosha was startled at my appearance, I’m sure. My butt was dirty and the backs of my legs were scratched from my skid-landing across Ryker’s driveway, and I was sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t look at her as I headed straight for the bathroom.
Turning on the sink, I readied the blade and started slowly drawing straight lines across my forearms. I hadn’t cut there in a long time, but it was easily accessible and gave the biggest rush. After several minutes of careful marking, my head started to spin as my stomach churned. I didn’t think I’d cut that much, but as soon as I looked at my arms—rivers of red pouring across them—I collapsed to my knees and started heaving into the toilet.
“Natalie?” Tosha started banging on the door as I heaved, and cried, and bled. “Natalie! Open this door or I’m going to have to break it down.”
It was an empty threat, but I unlocked the door anyway. The noise that came from her throat when she walked in is something I’ll never forget. Within seconds, she had me over at the shower, washing my arms in a panic. It turns out I didn’t cut that deep, but there were a lot of cuts that made it look worse than it was.
“Damn it, Natalie, what the fuck happened?”
I don’t know if she meant at Ryker’s or with me, but I sat on the bathroom floor and she cried with me as I told her absolutely everything.
It wasn’t easy convincing Tosha to leave my parents out of the situation with Ryker at his house, or with my cutting, but I managed to do so. She’d only met my parents a few times, but knew well enough that my mother wouldn’t hesitate to push legal action on Ryker, and probably take me out of school if she knew about the cutting. I promised Tosha I wouldn’t cut anymore—that I’d make it to Thanksgiving Break—and then be able to get my shit together when I went home for a few days.
I’d ignored all calls and texts from Ryker. They were apologetic and self-deprecating. He said how sorry he was, asked if I was hurt, and went on about what a fool he’d been. It was hard ignoring him. I knew he probably was sorry, but I didn’t know how long that would last, and I couldn’t focus on how to construct a safe environment for us to have a conversation with so many papers due before Thanksgiving break.
It had been a few days of silence from Ryker, and the soreness in my tailbone had mostly subsided, when Bill called. My sigh put Tosha on alert.
“Is it him again?”
I shook my head. “It’s Bill.” I closed my notebook and sat cross-legged on my bed.
“Hey, Bill . . .”
Instead of Bill’s voice of assurance, I was met with Ryker’s strung-out voice.
“Natalie.”
No. No. No.
Before I could think of doing anything else, I slammed my flip-phone shut and threw it on the bed.
“What?” Tosha asked, walking toward me.
“That was Ryker, from his dad’s phone. He sounded awful.” I looked to her as my chin started to quiver.
Tosha looked around the room for a minute before picking up her car keys. “Come on, let’s go.”
“What?”
“We’ve got to get out of here. You’ve done nothing but mope around for weeks, and the last few days have been like some episode of “My So-Called Life.” We’ve gotta go drink, and dance, and act like college students for five seconds.”
She was right. Despite my encouraging otherwise, Tosha spent most of her time with me, when she wasn’t with Liz. She said she loved me too much to let me suffer alone.
“Fine, let me change,” I conceded before heading to my closet.
My phone rang with Bill’s number three more times before we agreed to leave our cells in our room and enjoy the night interruption-free.
“We’ll go to Liz’s first to pick her up, I texted her while you were changing.” Tosha and I bounded down the stairs.
“Perfect, let’s go somewhere new.” I smiled at the thought of just going out with friends. I hadn’t done that since Ryker had been home.
As we reached the entryway, I cursed under my breath.
“What?” Tosha stopped with her hand on the door.
“I forgot my damn debit card. I’ll meet you at your car, be right back.” I raced up the stairs, fumbled through my desk and found my card.
Turning to leave my room I was nearly knocked over when I ran right into someone in my doorway.
“Ryker!” I squealed as he stood solid, unmoved by the collision.
I still don’t know how he got into the building, but that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that my shock instantly singed into fear as I looked him over. He was pale, sweating, and vacant-looking.
“Natalie, I need you to listen to me . . .” I didn’t smell alcohol on his breath, but something was off. He was swaying like he’d just gotten off a ride at the fair, and he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt despite it being November.
“Are you okay, Ry?” I asked, stepping aside as he entered the room. I turned so my back was to the door, but I could still get out if I needed to.
He shook his head as he plunked down on Tosha’s bed. “I’m sorry if I hurt you the other night.”
“I’m fine, I—”