Blindness

This isn’t about looking good and making him want me. And I won’t be there long. I just have a few things to say—things I should have said long ago. Things I repeat over and over when I’m angry at night—those times in between missing him. And then I can move on, start over with my life—my new life. I’ll always thank him for inspiring my work, but that’s it. That’s all he deserves.

I’m taking my heart back, and my soul comes with it. Reclaimed.

Jessie and Gabe’s street is packed with cars, some parked side-by-side, and it’s a tight squeeze to get through, but I manage. My eyes are scanning both sides of the street, looking for the beat-up pickup that I just KNOW is here. I don’t see it, but I’m sure it’s around. I find an open slot, slip my car in park, and grab my heavy coat from the back seat. I didn’t bring anything, but the party’s been going for a while, so I’m sure Jessie and Gabe will understand. Hell, I might be in and out before they even see me!

I don’t bother to ring the doorbell and just walk right inside, my body still wrapped in my winter coat from my short walk in their neighborhood. It’s warmer in here, but taking things off would mean I’m open to staying. And I’m not. I’ll find Cody, and then I’m leaving.

The living room is full of dozens of girls who all look like Jessie. Their hair is dyed and shaved and braided and twisted, and their bodies are all covered in piercings and ink. One girl nods at me with a smile as I walk by, but I turn away—I’m not here to make friends.

The guys are loud in the kitchen, and I see Gabe by the sink mixing some drinks, laughing at some story one of them is telling. I see a gray and black striped beanie, and I think for a moment it might be Cody, so I walk around the counter toward Gabe to get a better look, my fists balling in my pockets to spur me on. But it’s not him. I don’t even have to get close to tell.

“Charlie! Hey, you made it!” Gabe says, coming over to give me a drunken hug. I smile politely, but before he even gets near, I hammer away with questions.

“Where is he?” I ask, pulling the gloves from my fingers and stuffing them in the pockets of my puffy coat.

“Wha? Whoooooo?” he asks back, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

“I’m not in the mood, Gabe. Stop playing. Where is he? I know he’s here. He called me,” I say back. Gabe only furrows his brow, twisting his lips.

“Cody?” he says, rubbing the side of his face, like he’s trying to wake himself from a nap.

“Gabe, stop it! Yes, Cody,” I say, still scanning the small house and trying to make out figures standing outside in the back yard.

“Charlie…he’s not here. I haven’t seen him all day. He said he wasn’t coming,” he starts, but I push past him and make my way to the back yard.

He has to be here. I know he is—I can feel it. There’s a fire roaring in a giant pit outside, and I study the faces around it. They all look like people I’ve seen in pictures with Cody, and I almost feel like I recognize some. But he’s not with them. I walk the parameter of the yard, looking at the small pockets of people, expecting him to recognize me and call out my name. But he never does.

Back inside, I turn down the small hallway to Gabe and Jessie’s bedroom, and the door is closed. I can hear muffled sounds of people laughing, so I push the door open. It’s dark, and there are four or five girls snuggled on the bed watching television—it looks like they’re watching a Christmas movie.

“Charlie!” I hear Jessie call out, her voice slurring my name. My eyes finally adjust when I see her figure stand up from the back of the bed. “You made it! Come on in and join us, we’re watching The Muppets! Fuckin’ hilarious!”

She’s hugging me and leaning on me for support a second later. Her breath is downright flammable—I can smell that she’s been hitting the hard stuff. I hug her back awkwardly and bite my tongue, almost stopping myself from asking her about Cody, but I know if anyone knows where he is, she does.

“Is he still here?” I ask, starting to believe that Cody left long before I arrived.

She just shrugs at me and sits back down on the bed, patting the edge for me to join her. “Here? Hell, that boy never showed up. Gabe told you—he ain’t comin’.”

She starts laughing at something on the screen again and takes a drink from a bottle being passed around. I leave her there, and I don’t even think she notices. I make another pass through the house, this time my heart beating more slowly and my eyes careful to notice anything out of place. But nothing is new—nothing has changed from the moment I walked in that door.