Page 9 of Malaise

He doesn’t utter a word, just quietly places his drink down and twists it into the grass to ensure it won’t tip over, and then scoots close enough that our hips touch. His arm slowly snakes around my shoulders, and tentatively, as though giving me all the time in the world to protest, he pulls me into the side of his chest and completes the circle with his right arm across my collarbone, linking his hands at my shoulder.

I cry silently, the tears flowing until the neck of Jasper’s hoodie is soaked and the rivulets tickle my neck. The whole time, this anomaly of society holds me to his chest, his breaths steady and sure as I quietly fall apart and pick myself up again.

I ease out of his hold after what must have been a fair while, and give a small smile. “Thank you for that.”

“You sure this is the best place to be right now?” he asks gently. “Do you have family who might be looking for you?”

I shrug. “Mum and Dad are at home. Things were… tense when they broke the news. I walked out.” I duck my head in shame. The things he must think of me.

“Maybe you’d be better off with them right now, not in a clearing full of drunken idiots.”

Rub it in, why don’t you?

“Maybe you should just let me grieve in my own way,” I snap, snatching up my backpack as I rise to my feet. “Thanks for offering the drink.”

I march off toward the trees, intent on finding somewhere to hide, empty my fit-to-burst bladder, and then drink away my misery in peace. The low twiggy branches scratch at my face as I push into the thicket. I’m so damn focused on the malicious little fuckers that I don’t realise how far I’ve gone. My foot slips on loose shingle, and the stones skitter down the short rock face into the river below. Damn it. I almost made my parents completely childless. The fall isn’t that far, but the river is shallow this time of year, and if the sharp rocks protruding from the water hadn’t have done me in, my half-inebriated state would have fucked me up when I tried to find my way back up to the river bank in the dark of night.

I sink to my arse on a boulder covered in scrubby undergrowth and sob loudly, fresh out of tears but still so full of regrets. An overwhelming need to see Den grows in my chest, a living thing that claws at my ribcage until I’m forced to stand and do something to rectify the problem. The thicket tears new lines in my exposed skin as I push back towards the clearing after finally getting relief, hell-bent on finding Jasper so he can drive me home.

I shouldn’t have left.

I shouldn’t have been so selfish.

Standing at the edge of the trees, I look around at the masses of people, but I can’t see Jasper anywhere. People pay no mind as I wander blindly through the crowd, doubling back on myself and losing track of where I am in the enormous space as I circle the bonfire over and over, trying to find my ride out of here. The flames hiss and roar beside me, lulling me with their warmth while I down stolen drink after stolen drink. Someone passes me a joint, and I take a hit, passing it back absently as I stumble forward again in a vain attempt at finding where Jasper’s gone.

I can’t even remember what he was wearing; the guys all look the same out here in their dark denim and printed tees.

I pass a girl I’ve seen at least four times now, and drop to my knees, defeated. Jasper’s probably off fucking some leggy bitch in his car, or somewhere deep in the forest. I knew I couldn’t trust him to keep his word. I felt it in my gut. Leopards don’t change their spots. If he wanted to make sure he could take me home when I needed to go, he would have kept himself visible, kept an eye on me. Wouldn’t he?

Two discarded beers later and I’m about ready to tear the grass from the ground beneath my head to pile it up in a makeshift pillow. Why bother trying anymore? I’m eight parts drunk out of my mind and it’s miles back to town. My limbs are weak, my head swimming; I’d struggle to get to the main road without falling over and passing out in the roadside scrub along the way. I open my eyes a final time to search out where Jasper parked and spot the blue sedan peeking out from behind a beaten up old Toyota ute on the far side of the bonfire.

I can do it. I have to give it one last shot and check if that’s where he is.

The ground is spongy from the midnight dew that’s begun to settle on the grass. Thank fuck for Jasper’s hoodie, otherwise I’d be a frozen mess by now. It has to be all of six degrees out and dropping rapidly. My hands are covered in blades of grass and mud as I stand on shaky legs and start the short but troublesome journey to where Jasper’s car is parked. My feet follow each other blindly over the sodden ground, beelining straight past the searing heat of the glowing bonfire. Lord knows my brain isn’t telling them where to go—it’s still cycling on a sadistic loop of Den’s death, my parents’ reactions, Jasper’s false offer to help if I wanted to leave, and the troublemaking drinking buddy I made back at the log.

A high-pitched giggle crashes into my left shoulder, sending me spinning around like a tenpin unsure if it wants to fall or not. I slam my feet down on the grass, looking for traction, and slide into an ungainly split as I lose my balance and tumble onto my side… right into the edge of the fire.

Shrieks pierce the air around me, and after a while I realise one of the high-pitched wails is mine. The synthetic fabric of Jasper’s hoodie melts onto my blistering skin as I look down and realise that I’ve placed my hand squarely in the burning chunks of wood to break my fall. A glowing log has rolled over the back of my hand, and even after I realise what I’ve done, it takes me precious seconds to connect the dots in my brain and yank my hand free of the restriction. Flesh tears, blistered and raw, burning even when I’ve brought my hand free of the flames.

“Meg!” Jasper breaks through the crowd of stunned and useless onlookers. “Fuck, what did you do?”

What did I do? Does he think I did this on purpose? “I fellovah,” I slur.

He reaches out toward my melted and seared forearm, and then recoils. “Is anyone sober enough to drive?” he shouts into the crowd.

A murmur spreads through the onlookers. Everyone’s as toasted as I am, although I am in more ways than one, now. Yeah, I giggle at my own joke.

“Shit.” He runs a ragged hand through his matted hair as Amelia emerges from the crowd, panting.

“Why did you—?” Her question breaks off as she lays eyes on me sucking in staggered breaths while I try to peel some of the burnt polyester off my wrist. “Oh my God.” Her hands fly to her over-glossed lips.

I squint at Jasper as it dawns on me his lips are just as shiny. Motherfucker….

“Are you going to fucking help her, or just stand there?”

Great—now my drinking buddy’s here, too. At least I’ve given them all a tale to tell for years to come. Silver linings, right? I’ll be immortal amongst the greater district’s senior years after this, an anecdote at graduations for years to come.

“What the fuck is wrong with you arseholes?” Carver drops to his knees beside me. “Has anyone got water?”