“Everything was fucked”
Everything was fucked and she had nowhere to go. She couldn't drop out of school. She couldn't get back together with Todd. Helen Zachary took a deep breath and ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth, feeling the burn of the cheap Bloody Mary mix aftertaste. She was so full of anger. Anger at Todd. Anger at the world. Anger at herself. Anger she could taste on her tongue, like she had just thrown up an entire stomach full of Milwaukee's Best.
She hated the whole ordeal of breaking up and it had been going on for far too long. It had been nearly two weeks since her boyfriend Todd had dumped her. Told her that as hot as she was, she wasn’t worth the drama.
Another spasm of tears seized her. Through her smeared vision Helen tried to see how Jessica and Roxy were reacting to this. Were they already dialing the men in white coats to come and drag her away? She couldn’t see them, though. Just as well. She squeezed her eyes shut, so tight she started to see stars inside her brain. She sniffed and wiped her eyes for the tenth time with the same tissue. She wadded the tissue up and tossed it to her right, where it landed along with the other tissues she had used that night. She rubbed her eyes with the forefingers of her right and left hands.
When she opened them, she could see again. Her friends were not looking at her with disgust, gathering up their things to escape this house of madness-just looking at her with smiles-worry in their eyes, but smiling nonetheless.
“God, I feel so lame about this,” Helen said to them. Jessica and Roxy were her two best friends in Santa Zita, and the worst part of all of this was the thought of them seeing her in this incapacitated, disintegrated state.
“Don't worry, Helen. We understand,” said Jessica.
“Yeah, totally, we do,” said Roxy.
Jessica took another tissue out of the box and offered it to Helen. She shook her head no. She felt better now. She could talk and not sound so broken up. She couldn't stand hearing herself sound that way; so grief-stricken and incoherent.
Helen ran her finger under her lower eyelid, feeling the moist, slimy guck that had accumulated there. She took another tissue from the box Jessica was holding and wiped off her fingers. Her eyes burned, her head throbbed, her stomach ached, and her throat was sore. Her whole body was falling apart. Her contact lenses were too old-they felt scratchy resting on her eyeball and needed to be replaced.
“I need some water,” Helen said.
She rose and walked to her kitchen. She passed the answering machine. Its red light flashed maddeningly, reminding Helen of everything she had stopped dealing with because of the breakup. Phone calls to return, people she had flaked on, the never-ending problems of her section’s students. They were just going to have to wait. Didn’t the world understand? She had been dumped. Life was just going to have to wait.
She hated the whole ordeal of breaking up and it had been going on for far too long. It had been nearly two weeks since her boyfriend Todd had dumped her. Told her that as hot as she was, she wasn’t worth the drama.
Another spasm of tears seized her. Through her smeared vision Helen tried to see how Jessica and Roxy were reacting to this. Were they already dialing the men in white coats to come and drag her away? She couldn’t see them, though. Just as well. She squeezed her eyes shut, so tight she started to see stars inside her brain. She sniffed and wiped her eyes for the tenth time with the same tissue. She wadded the tissue up and tossed it to her right, where it landed along with the other tissues she had used that night. She rubbed her eyes with the forefingers of her right and left hands.
When she opened them, she could see again. Her friends were not looking at her with disgust, gathering up their things to escape this house of madness-just looking at her with smiles-worry in their eyes, but smiling nonetheless.
“God, I feel so lame about this,” Helen said to them. Jessica and Roxy were her two best friends in Santa Zita, and the worst part of all of this was the thought of them seeing her in this incapacitated, disintegrated state.
“Don't worry, Helen. We understand,” said Jessica.
“Yeah, totally, we do,” said Roxy.
Jessica took another tissue out of the box and offered it to Helen. She shook her head no. She felt better now. She could talk and not sound so broken up. She couldn't stand hearing herself sound that way; so grief-stricken and incoherent.
Helen ran her finger under her lower eyelid, feeling the moist, slimy guck that had accumulated there. She took another tissue from the box Jessica was holding and wiped off her fingers. Her eyes burned, her head throbbed, her stomach ached, and her throat was sore. Her whole body was falling apart. Her contact lenses were too old-they felt scratchy resting on her eyeball and needed to be replaced.
“I need some water,” Helen said.
She rose and walked to her kitchen. She passed the answering machine. Its red light flashed maddeningly, reminding Helen of everything she had stopped dealing with because of the breakup. Phone calls to return, people she had flaked on, the never-ending problems of her section’s students. They were just going to have to wait. Didn’t the world understand? She had been dumped. Life was just going to have to wait.
Works
Recent Writing
- 1989 A Novel: Tim and April walk to the liquor store
- Volume III: Helen meets Roxy for coffee at the Fremont College coffee shop
- Volume III: Tim walks back from Contemporary American Fiction
- Volume III: Helen conducts section, can’t prevent Michael from being dissed
- Volume III: Helen conducts section (HSZ version)