I walked for a long time, and the blood pouring out of the tears in my flesh turning sticky and dry. I got to a gas station that was closed, thank God, me all bloody and beaten, drunk and dirty. I dialed the familiar number and held my breath.
“Hello?” the voice sounded like it just woke up.
At the sound, I almost crumpled, “Isaac?”
“Who is this?” he sounded alarmed.
“It’s Tayler,” I sounded slurred and teary and small and cold. I was all of those things.
“Robinson? Where are you?”
“At a gas station.”
“Why?” he sounded alarmed.
“I… I just need… a ride.”
“Are you all right? You don’t sound all right.”
“Please, Ike. I can’t call Heidi. She’ll never let me out again.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. It’s dirty and there are no lights on. It’s far.”
I tried to explain to him through my drunkenness and concussion and low blood pressure and GHB and emotional stress. I hung up and collapsed on the curb, looking up at the stars. They were so far away, so out there, so dead. I wanted to be them. They felt no pain. I was getting drunker, somehow. Headlights shined over my body, and I propped myself up on my elbows.
“Tayler, please. Just listen to me.”
“You have some white powder under your nose there,” was all I said, without making eye contact.
“You’re not well, let me take you home.”
I wished on the star to trade places with me. It could be alive, breathing me, and I could be shining, dying it.
“Get in the car.”
“Go away.”
“Please?”
He needed to go away before I got in the car with him. I tried to think of something, anything, “Why don’t you go have some more, unloved, illegitimate children.”
He seemed hurt, but insisted, “It’s okay, Tayler.”
“Go back home and get beaten by your psycho mother.”
“Stop,” he said softly, even more hurt this time.
“F*ck off, Dave. I don’t love you. I never did! I used you, don’t you get it? I used you like you used all those other girls! I never loved you. Never!”
He recoiled, pausing to think before he sped away, spraying gravel onto me. I wanted to burst into tears, but I just couldn’t. Without those tears and fear and sadness inside of me, I was just an empty shell.
When I saw Ike’s car come around the bend, I somehow was even drunker still. I knew there was GHB coursing through my veins. I wanted to vomit like crazy, not only because I was nauseous, but also because I knew that if I didn’t, all the toxins would take over my body and I’d die. I’d let it eat me from the inside out. It would be an okay way to go.
“Robinson!” he nearly screamed. He hopped out of the car while it was still running, the headlights the only light around.
I could barely stand by then. I was trying to die. “Hi, Ike,” my words were unclear and indistinct.
“Jesus Christ, what happened?” he gasped so deeply that I thought he’d faint when he saw my arm, covered in blood.
“Take me home?” I begged.
He helped me into the passenger seat. I didn’t say a word, laying my head on the headrest as he walked back around to the driver’s side.
“I’m trying to die,” I said softly, only really talking to myself, as he opened the door.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just don’t let Heidi see me like this.”
“You need to stop doing this,” he put the car in gear and took off.
“Are you my mother?” I managed to turn my head toward him.
“No, but you sure as hell need one. What the hell happened to your arm?”
“I’m trying to die,” I shrugged, not caring who heard. It wouldn’t be long now. I’d taken some pills out of Dave’s pocket when he’d picked me up off the sidewalk. I knew they were there because I saw him take them earlier in the night when I was sitting in the dining room. While I looked at the stars, I swallowed all the pills one by one, imagining that they were going to make me lighter and lighter and lift me up. I’d be my own star by the end of the night.
“What?!”
“I’m trying to die,” it was becoming my motto.
“Robinson, stop, don’t say that.”
“I am, Ike.”
“What? Why?”
“What’s left?”
“Left of what?”
“Me. What’s left of me? I’m hollow, Ike… empty.”
“What are you talking about? Of course you’re not...”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re talking suicide? That’s so unlike you.”
“You don’t know me anymore, Ike. Not anymore,” I sighed, tracing stars on the window. “I’m sick all over and everywhere. My only regret is that I am still a virgin,” I laughed, “ah, c’est la vie.”
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“Don’t, Ike, I’m just drunk,” it was so easy to lie, “Besides, the night is young. I have until sunrise to not be a virgin anymore,” I laughed. Life was so absurd.
“Are you sure you just want me to take you to the hospital?”
“I’ve been drunker,” I lied again.
“That’s reassuring.”
I was sure I could feel the drugs in the pills diluting in my stomach and coursing through my veins. It was warm, like poison.
We reached the Hansons’ house, and I let Ike bring me in quietly. It would be nice to die among friends. He brought me down to the basement again, and then left me there for what must have only been ten seconds. I was sure he was afraid of what I would do. When he returned, Zac was following him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The sight of him, the person I confided most in, my best friend, my first kiss, the only person that understood me, made tears run from my eyes and trace cold lines down my cheeks.
Zac looked absolutely terrified, his face draining of all color when he saw me sitting there, bloody, bruised, and dirty. He must have sent Ike up stairs to get me some clean clothes and some junk to clean me off with, because we were all of a sudden alone.
“Robinson,” he brushed my hair softly out of my face as if he were afraid to touch me, like I was that fragile.
I turned to him, my eyes glassy and pained, “I’m trying to die,” the words were tearful and quiet. I think he only knew what I said because he knew me so well.
“Why?”
“Why not?” I didn’t even have enough strength to wipe away the tears.
Zac did for me, tenderly, like touching a baby, “Don’t.”
“I am going to. It’s too late now.”
“Why?”
“I can’t lie to you when you’re nice to me,” that was a lie though. I could lie if I wanted to, but I didn’t really want to.
“What happened?”
“I fell and cut open my wrist again. It bled a lot,” I was still drunk and high, but I was having a moment of lucidity. “I think I should go home. You don’t need to see me like this.”
“I love you like this,” he kissed my forehead.
“You’re lying because you don’t want me to try to kill myself again. Well, it’s too late. I already took some pills.”
“What?” he seemed frightened to the core, not surprised or squeaky in any way.
“It’s okay, Zacky. I want you to be here when it’s over.”
“What’s over?!” he yelled, letting go of me, “What’s over?! Nothing’s over!” he grabbed my arm fiercely, but not hurting me, and dragged my stumbling, drunk ass up the stairs, into the kitchen, and then up the other flight of stairs. He banged on Tay’s door just loud enough to wake him but not the parents, and pulled me in the room.
He pushed me down onto the bed and had a hushed, serious conversation with Tay in the corner as I sat there, dazed and thinking about the day I woke up in this room, half naked, and how I thought that was the worst of my problems.
I looked up and saw Zac in tears, whispering emphatically to Taylor, whose face was pale gray and pasty with shock by this time.
Zac’s tears caused me to lose my breath for a second. I never thought that my death would hurt anyone. I never thought anyone would care. I crumpled on the bed into the fetal position and sobbed. Tay came over and rubbed my back, saying, “Come on.”
He lifted me gently and carried me into the bathroom, placing me gently on the floor. Taylor sent Zac to get some towels and peroxide and junk like that. He sat me up and asked, “How do you feel?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“You wanna know something?” he sat across from me after closing the door.
I shrugged, unable to reply.
“We went to New York for a little while on our long trip. That was when I still thought you were in News Jersey. I looked for you. Everywhere. Trina got pissed because I never paid attention to her. Ike almost killed me because I messed up so much that show. I looked everywhere. I kept hoping, wishing that I’d see you, walking on the street, in the deli, at the concert, in a cab… anywhere.”
I was silent, looking at my hands.
“After that, even when we weren’t in New York, I looked for you. Maybe you were in California on vacation. Maybe you had relatives in Florida.”
“I don’t.”
“I know, but I hoped.”
“You missed me?”
“Of course. You dumped me, remember?”
“I remember.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
