Miss Me Not

I shook my head as Dean stood up. Thinking he was disgusted with my desperation for attention, I was surprised when he returned with a box of tissues and slid them in front of me before grabbing my hand. I wasn't even aware I was crying.

Taking a shaky breath, I stared at the daisies, wishing I didn't have to continue. I hadn't talked about my actions in years.

"So, you were hanging out with an older crowd?" Sarah gently probed.

"Yeah," I answered. "Around this time, my parents forced me to go on a church retreat to Mexico. That's when I met Katie Nelson. We hit it off from the very start and became inseparable. We both liked hanging out with the older crowd, and for the most part, they were nice enough, wild, but nice. They were the ones to give us our first drink of Jack Daniels, and our first hit on a joint. It was at one of their parties that I tried crystal meth for the first and only time. It made me ferociously sick, so I stayed away from the hard stuff after that. My parents didn't care. They never asked where I was, who I was with or what I was wearing. During the few months leading up to my thirteenth birthday, I was hit on and propositioned many times, but I held out," I said quietly.

Dean and Sarah waited intently for me to continue.

"See, I had this idea that if I seduced someone from their church, they would finally notice me. They would have to step in. I had the whole idea worked out. In the few times that they dragged me to one of their church functions, I noticed the men there, who were supposedly outstanding Christian men, still checked me out when I walked in. I knew they liked my chest in the small baby doll t-shirts I wore. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked by. One in particular never seemed to be able to stop looking. I decided he would be my target. I didn't consider any of the ramifications. I just knew he wanted me and he would be a means to an end. It only sweetened the deal that he was a friend of my dad’s," I said in a monotone voice as memories from long ago surfaced. "I tricked him into coming over to my house, claiming my dad had a schedule change for an upcoming event at the church. When Jim showed up that evening, I was a little drunk to get my nerves up and I dressed in skimpy lingerie I had stolen from Victoria’s Secret. In my eyes, it was the perfect crime. I was convinced that dressed like I was, drinking, wearing a stolen item and seducing the youth minster of their church would finally put me on their radar," I said, twisting the tissue in my hand. The tears fell hot and fast down my cheeks. I finally looked at Dean, unsure if I could continue.

His face was tense and I saw that his fist was clenched. He was angry. Of course he was angry. What I had done was horrific. He knew from the rumors that I had succeeded in the seduction, but what he didn't know was that I had chickened out.

I looked back at Sarah who gave me a reassuring look. There was no turning back now.

"Jim showed up a half an hour before my parents were due home from work. I had it all planned out, or so I thought. Just looking at him I knew my ploy was going to work. His eyes practically jumped out of his head when he looked at me. At first, it was nice, just like I imagined it would be. He came up behind me while I was taking a drink of my Jack and Coke, and kissed me on my neck and it felt good. The kisses after that were just as good as he slowly backed me up to the couch. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, kissing me harder and more insistently. Our clothes disappeared quicker than I could have ever imagined," I said with shallow gasps. "It became difficult to breathe with all his weight on me, so I tried pushing at him to get him to lift off of me so I could breathe a little. I also wanted to slow down, so it wouldn't be quite so scary. Finally, all I could think about was how much it hurt." I stalled out as the words got harder for me.

"You wanted him to stop?" Sarah asked, grabbing one of my hands. I nodded my head, ashamed. Dean startled me by jumping to his feet. I looked at him as he paced the kitchen. Anger radiated off him in great waves. I didn't blame him, I was poison. I ruined everything.

"Dean?" Sarah said, standing up to stop his pacing.

"I want to kill them," Dean said, slamming a closed fist on the counter, making me jump. >He didn’t say a word as he opened my door and helped me into the jeep. I was relieved at his silence. Silence meant I could pretend nothing had changed. Of course, the hole in my chest contradicted my fantasy. Everything had changed.

The cemetery that James's family had picked for the service was on the other side of town from where they had held Mitch's, and the attendance was only half as much.

The proceedings were also different than Mitch's in many aspects. The minister was longwinded and didn’t ask if anyone had anything to say. He talked about sins and damnation, and used the passing of my friend for his own agenda. I sat in my seat stoically, trying not to glare at James's dad, who I was seeing for the first time in all the years I had known James. He was bigger than I had pictured him, and I hated him even more, knowing how he had used his girth and size against his son. As the minister continued on about the selfishness of James's act, I wanted to stand up and scream at him in frustration. I wanted to punch his dad. I wanted to yell that none of this was James's fault. I did none of this though, because deep down, I knew that as guilty as his dad probably was, I was equally guilty. I had failed.

Dean held my hand throughout the service, never speaking. I was thankful for his presence no matter how short lived it was going to be.

We left as they were lowering my friend down in the ground. I couldn't watch as dirt was thrown on his casket. It hurt too much. Everything I had ever believed about death was wrong. There was no closure, no ending, just endless pain.

Dean didn’t drive me home. Instead, he drove to a park not far from my house. We sat in his jeep in silence for hours. He held my hand the entire time, stroking small comforting circles around the tattoo on my wrist. I knew I needed to tell him. I needed to make a clean break, but I remained silent, soaking in his comfort and wishing I could cry.

Finally, as the sun was setting, Dean broke the silence. "I'm driving to Flagler tomorrow to join my parents for the weekend. Do you want to go with me?" he asked quietly.

"I can't," I answered as a small piece of my heart broke off.

"Why?"

"Because I don’t think we should see each other anymore."

"Madison, I know you feel guilty, believe me, I know how you feel, but it's not your fault. You didn’t do this."

His words pierced me like a knife. He was so very wrong. It was all my fault.

"I need to go home," I said, wanting to get it over with before my heart shattered completely into a million pieces.

Looking at me intently, he looked like he had more to say, but thought better of it. Five minutes later, we were back at my house.

Dean cut the engine off and unbuckled his seatbelt before turning to me. "I'm not going to lose you over this," he said, reaching a hand up to stroke my face.

"You already have," I whispered in a broken voice.

Anguish filled his face before he crushed his lips to mine. "No, I haven’t," he said raggedly against my lips like he was convincing me to change my mind.

It took all my willpower to pull away, which was ironic. Eight weeks ago, I cringed from his touch, and now I wanted to burrow in it. Irony was a bitch.

I opened my door and climbed out, grabbing my backpack he had the foresight to bring me.