I watch as Danny goes offline and put my head down on the keyboard. I couldn't tell if he was lying or not. I hate online chat for that. It's impossible to tell. I mean, I find it hard enough to read body language as it is, but a total lack of it does my head in.
My eyes slide shut. I'm tired. It's not even five pm. Like I said to Danny, I feel dead. No one even cares. I'm not sure I care, either. I ran out of methadone last night, so I've been off school, trying to keep my internal organs internal. I hate being dopesick. And mom won't get me any more til later when she's "free". What a housewife can be free from, I have no idea. It's not like the place is a mess. Well, apart from my room, I guess.
There're clean sheets on the bed for the first time in forever. My room doesn't smell of heroin. Mom's tried to tidy up a few times in the last week, doing little bits at a time while I'm distracted. I guess she noticed how the state it was in before made Kyle uncomfortable, and I know she's desperate for me to have his support. Me? I'm too dead to really mind. I kinda like having Kyle in here. Apart from when I realise he wants sex. I've not told him I want to wait til the scars are more faded until I'll wear less than pants and a shirt. Usually, I'll go as far as sleeping in a hoodie, if he's staying over.
I s'pose staying home could've been worse, though. Kyle skipped school to stay with me.
"You okay?" he asks, looking up from the book he'd been reading. I kind of nod, not lifting my head. "Want a hug?" I kind of nod again, beyond caring if I look like a needy asshole. He wraps his arms around me, and I hug back, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Looking forward to seeing Danny?"
"I dunno. He doesn't like me."
"Sure he does." I don't say anything, silently disbelieving. Why would he like me? I'm a letdown, and I got Kyle and he didn't. I'd say that's enough reason to dislike someone, and if you can still like someone after that, you're a better person than I am. "C'mon, I remember him practically worshipping the ground you walked on."
"Yeah, and I let him down, didn't I. I'm possibly one of the worst role models in the world," I laugh weakly, "second only to Cancer himself."
"You didn't let him down."
"How did I not let him down? I treated him like shit."
"He still looked up to you, though."
"If he can still look up to me after all that, he'll have my undying respect," I smile slightly. He kisses the top of my head and I close my eyes again. When I lie down, he does too, and I cuddle him, kissing back as his lips push against mine. I kiss back, not matching it as he kisses me a little harder.
He pulls back, a tiny baby of a frown creasing his brow. I just look at him.
"Is there something wrong?" What could possibly be wrong? I've only been sick all day and feel like shit.
"No," I mutter.
"Sure?" he questions and I nod slightly.
"Yeah, I just feel a bit off, still."
"No worries," he says, kissing my nose. I smile a little and he smiles back. Wondering what the time is, I look up at the clock, hoping that mom will be home soon with my methadone. It's five, where the fuck is she?
Kyle, on the other hand, has gone back to reading, one arm still over me. Giving up on the whole methadone-coming-soon thing, I sort of snuggle into him, trying to sleep to pass the time. Which fails kind of epically. Given that I can't sleep feeling like this. He moves his hand up to play with my hair and I let out a little hum.
As soon as mom gets back with my methadone, I'll start mentally preparing for the visit to see Danny. Until then... "I'm gonna have a shower."