Metamorphosis

“I need a drink, do you want something?” I was somewhat relieved that he found his voice as he got off the bed and headed for his door. I was the worst kind of weak ~ I wasn’t strong enough to put myself out there for him, for a chance at us, but I also wasn’t strong enough to detach myself from him. I was completely at his mercy to wherever he wanted our relationship to go. He would have to make the decisions; I just didn’t trust myself to.



“Yeah, I’ll take a glass of milk,” I answered with a forced smile.



“Milk, of course,” he chuckled. “Only you, butterfly.”



While he was in the kitchen, I snapped a picture of the drawing with my phone. I wasn’t sure what it was about the sketch, but it inexplicably drew me to it, an effect similar to the one that its creator had on me. In the future when I looked at that picture, I would be reminded of not only the mystical fairy tale that I continued to hope for myself, but the private moments that Ash and I spent in his room.



We spent the rest of the night hanging out as we typically did on Saturday nights. We had a jam session and watched a little tv. We never discussed Eros and Psyche again, nor did he ever ask me about why I wasn’t seeing Dylan anymore or what was going on with me and Mason. I wished he wanted to talk about it, I hoped the thought of me intimate with someone else made his stomach churn like mine did when I thought about him with his multitude of girls that passed through his sheets. I had hoped that his jealous responses to seeing me with Mason would make him see that he should pursue something with me, but suddenly I wondered if it was jealousy at all that fueled his actions, maybe he really was just protecting me from someone he thought would hurt me… like a friend would do.



Chapter 27



Thanksgiving dinner the following Thursday with my family had been brutal. My parents treated me as if I had the plague or if I had killed their favorite pet; they didn’t even bother to put on a show in front of my grandparents or my brother and his family. I escaped to Evie’s house as soon as everyone had left after dinner and didn’t speak to my parents again that weekend. It really hurt my feelings the way they had so easily turned their back on me, they gave me no credit for playing the role of the perfect child for eighteen fucking years. Instead they chose to base the current state of our relationship over one argument that we had. I had apologized for the disrespectful way that I had spoken to them, but not for the words I had said. My mom had told me that it wasn’t good enough. I was beginning to accept the fact that I would never be close to my family again. The thought made me sad, but not enough to give in and give back the little bit of the real me that I had uncovered in the last few months.



The next several weeks passed in the blink of an eye. The air outside grew colder and the foliage on the trees began to disappear. Evie and I began to prepare for our first set of finals as mid-December approached quickly. We studied and we read and we studied and we made charts and we studied… I thought both of us were susceptible to a brain explosion due to the sheer amount of knowledge that we attempted to shovel inside.



She saw Max as much as possible around the school work, even if it meant they just got to sleep in the same bed a couple of nights a week. They were so adorable together and I loved seeing Evie happy all of the time. I continued to see Mason, and by “see” I meant do every sexual act that I had ever wanted to do with a guy except actual penetration, several times a week. He would pick me up and take me to dinner and we would go to the bar for a while either for him to do a set with Jobu’s Rum or occasionally one of us would perform at open mic night. We had a hard time keeping our hands off of one another when we were together whether in public or in private. I craved his touch; the orgasmic release that he brought me to over and over again allowed me to temporarily forget about the emptiness in my heart that only the love of Ash Walker could fill.



Mason knew how I felt about Ash, I had been forthcoming with him from the beginning. He always told me that Ash was the biggest fucking tool ever for not pursuing a relationship with me, but that he owed him a thank you because it allowed us time to spend together. I liked Mason, more than I wanted to admit. His was brutally honest and really didn’t care what anyone else thought about him. I envied his carefree attitude and self-confidence. I loved being around him and I loved being wrapped around him even more. It had become impossible for me to remain emotionally unattached from him, as much as I tried. It seemed that I was determined to set myself up for heartbreak no matter what.



Ash and I continued on as we had been… friends. He, along with Jess, Meg, & the crew, became regulars at Mason’s bar on Friday nights where he often performed. I would always go over to say hello to all of them, but never lingered. Ash never asked me up onstage with him again, but I couldn’t help but wonder if his song selections at times were made on my behalf. Often the lyrics hit a little close to home, but I did my best to ignore him and focus my attention on Mason. The only time we ever mentioned the time spent at the bar when we were together Saturday nights was when he complimented me on a performance and vice versa.



Evie and I introduced Mason and Max and they hit it off immediately. Together they had booked both Jobu’s Rum and 32 Leaves to play at a music festival in Dallas. The festival was scheduled the third weekend of December which unfortunately, was the weekend before mine and Evie’s comprehensive Biology final. We were super bummed that we couldn’t go watch our men in action, but instead we spent the three days studying and hanging out like we used to do. We watched girly movies, drank cheap wine, and painted each other’s toes. Other than the studying part, the weekend was exactly what I needed. Reconnecting with Evie reminded me of what a wonderful friend she had been to me for so many years. She had taken me under her wing time and time again, and without her I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the person I was. I owed her everything, and now that my parents no longer wanted to be a part of my life, she was all that I had.



Monday morning arrived before I knew it. I was thankful that after the Biology final, I would be finished with classes for the semester - my first semester of college in the books, literally. Luckily the dorms that we lived in did not make us vacate over the holidays because both Evie and I wanted to stay in Houston as long as possible. Mason and Max were scheduled to be back the following day and we were both in need of some serious “stress relief.” Sunday night Evie went to bed early because of another headache. She said she wanted to make sure she slept it off before the exam the following morning.



I was surprised that by the time I entered the kitchen in the morning that Evie wasn’t up yet. She always woke up before me. I yelled out to her, “Evie, get your scrawny ass up. We’ve got to leave in 45 minutes.” I went on about my morning routine, getting the coffee started and making us both a bowl of cereal. After I didn’t hear her start moving around, I called out to her again, “Evie! Wake up! Come on, chica, you’re cereal is going to get soggy!” Still no response.



I started to get worried so I made my way to her room and swung the door open. “Evelyn Rose, get up now!” I barked, but she did not move. Instantly, I knew something was very wrong. I ran to her bed and grabbed her arm. I gasped and dropped it immediately. The lack of color and cold, clammy feel of her skin confirmed my worst fear; she was dead. Lifeless. My best friend was gone forever. Shock set in instantaneously. Nausea consumed my entire body. A sob rooted deep in my chest traveled up the back of my throat and obstructed the air flow, forcing me to breathe in loud gasps. Thousands upon thousands of thoughts crossed through my mind - it happened so fast, I could not process anything and soon my head was pounding. I had so many questions. What happened? Why? How long had she been like this? How did I not know that something was this wrong? How could this be happening? What am I going to tell her parents? What am I going to do without her? What am I supposed to do? Why her? Why me? Why? I just couldn’t stop - I was afraid my brain was going to explode from sheer overload. Thoughts were moving so fast they were almost a blur. I’m not sure how long I sat on her bed next to her, it could’ve been 5 minutes or 5 hours, but eventually a warm numb spread across me. The thoughts stopped for the most part, my stomach didn’t hurt as bad, and soon I just didn’t feel at all. I was so disconnected, like I was watching life through someone else’s eyes or something. It was unearthly almost. Reality hit hard when it hit and I knew I had calls to make, most definitely the single hardest phone call that I would ever make in my life.



Eventually I mustered up the strength to pull myself out of her bed and went to search for my phone. The call to Evie’s parents was even worse than I imagined. No one should have to tell a parent that their child is dead, especially not someone that loved the deceased nearly as much as the parents did. I threw up several times after hanging up with them. Miraculously, I made it through the phone call without crying. I still had not shed a tear, it was like my tear ducts had dried up.



My next call was to 911 and the appropriate services were dispatched. The operator offered to stay on the line with me until someone arrived, but I declined. I needed to be sick again.



The next call was to my parents. Even though our few conversations over the last several months had been awkward at best, I knew that they would want to know. My mom was deeply saddened by the news, she began crying immediately. She offered my old room to me if I needed a place, I told her thanks and that I would let her know, but I knew I would never stay there again. Our relationship had become so strained, staying there would be more uncomfortable than I was willing to bear.



I sat on the couch until the police and ambulance arrived. They asked me questions. I answered them. I did not feel anything. I just sat there. They took her body and then I was alone. Completely alone.



Evie’s parents got there in what seemed like minutes, even though it must have taken several hours. They found me sitting on the couch, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think and I couldn’t move. I heard Evie’s mom call Jess to come stay with me so that she and Evie’s dad could go to the hospital. Jess, Meg, and Ash all showed up some time later. I could see the red rims of their eyes and the dried up tears on all of their faces. I still hadn’t cried. What was wrong with me? I thought maybe I was dreaming or maybe it was me that was dead, but when Jess shoveled scalding hot soup into my mouth and burnt every taste bud on my tongue, the nightmare that my life had become was confirmed to indeed be real.



The rest of the day was a blur really. At some point I got off the couch and moved into my bed, or someone carried me there, I really couldn’t remember. I woke up there in the dead of night, screaming at the top of my lungs, the vision of Evie dead in her bed had stamped into my brain. Moments later Ash and Meg were both on my bed, both holding and rocking me as they tried to calm me down. I guess I fell back asleep because the next thing I remembered was waking up to the sun peeking through my blinds. They were both still in on either side of me, their arms wrapped around me. I’m sure the three of us looked ridiculous scrunched on that full sized bed, but I was relieved they were there.