Star Witness

16

JESSE

"So, you survived, without ever really giving me anything," Imani informs me. "How are you feeling?"

"Very accomplished."

"Mm-hmm."

Nar-anon is officially over. For me, at least. The group, of course, just meets indefinitely, but I was unofficially sentenced to complete one round of the twelve-step program with them as penance for beating the shit out of Nico. When, for two seconds, everybody was forced to think critically about my grief, and then made a choice so they could stop doing that as soon as possible.

In their defense, I'm not sure I think about it either. Is living thinking about it? Because, the way I live, it reminds me of being young, when I would walk in her footprints behind her through the snow. If I live out her story again, then maybe it all makes sense.

"But you know, Jesse, I hope this doesn't mean I'll never see you again. You should still come by sometimes."

I nod.

"I mean it."

"I know." I pause, stacking up the last chair against the wall of the church. "I'll come by and help you clean up. We'll stack chairs, you'll tell me I'm emotionally incompetent, it'll be just like old times."

Imani smiles. "I'd like that." She crosses her arms, studying me. "So when are you leaving for Illinois?"

"In just a few days. Don't you dare ask me how I feel about it."

That makes her laugh. "Alright. I won't. But I will tell you something. I hope you're going for the right reasons. And I hope you keep yourself safe."

"What would be the wrong reasons to go?"

She tilts her head, looking at me in that way neurotypical people look at you when they're wondering how much they can get away with not telling you. "If you're going because you feel incomplete, and you think something there will fill you. I understand closure, but missing something isn't closure. You can't trust your grief to catch you, Jesse, that's what I'm saying. So, keep yourself safe."

I do my best to smile. "You too."

I wait outside the church for Nico, smoking on top of the church sign. He shows up 20 minutes late.

"You're late," I tell him, getting into the passenger seat of his car.

He just grunts, pulling away from the curb.

I turn the radio on, searching for the classic rock station.

"Turn that shit off," Nico grumbles.

I turn it up.

He slams his hand on the button and the sound dies.

"What in the world is your damage?"

"I told you turn it off. Fucking idiot. Those words too big for you?"

"Here. Smoke and calm down."

"How do I know what the hell you have in that thing? Huh? How do I know you aren't chasing the fucking dragon in my fucking car? How do I know anything?"

"I'm not."

"I fucking hate that voice you do."

"What voice?"

"That voice, where you're making fun of me and acting like I'm just the stupidest person in the fucking world when I say something that makes sense. It's like you never even let me feel like I might be right. You're a fucking asshole."