8. Regretting Nothing
I sat on the toilet in my bathroom, still watching the blood drip from my nose. Not even trying to stop the never ending flow of crimson that began to form a pattern on the pearl bathroom tile. The blood began to swirl and circle into strange forms in the crevices between each tile. It looked like it was dancing.
My nose ached and I felt my bones crackle every time I moved it. I tried to twist and turn it back into its usual place but every time I tried I let out a pathetic moan of pain.
Bobby stood outside the door, trying to reach my mom or dad at work, asking how I was every few minutes. I just kept answering with a groan.
I knew Dad was probably at some big meeting trying to kiss ass and get his former job back. Mom was a nurse so Bobby tried harder to reach her than my father. But Mom just started her night shift at the free clinic so I doubted that she was going to answer a call from her bothersome son. She was probably too busy seeing fifteen patients at the same time.
As my blood danced, I wondered how it came to this. I wondered how I let my guard down at the pizza place and didn’t fight back, like any normal person would’ve. I wondered why Bobby just offered to pay for the pizzas and not even give Freddie a glare. And for a small moment, I wondered if I really wasn’t Bobby’s best friend.
“Sam, your mom answered! She said she’s on her way home!”
I nodded, not realizing that Bobby couldn’t see through walls.
“Sam? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” I sighed. We sat in silence for a few minutes until I heard some shuffling behind the door and finally a sound.
“Sam…”
“I said I’m fine.”
He paused and I heard his back sliding down the door.
“I’m sorry.”
I started to get sick of the dancing blood. It wasn’t so entertaining anymore. I drew some toilet paper from the roll next to the sink and simply tossed it all on top of the scarlet mess. I moved the paper from side to side with my foot until I realized I was making an even bigger mess. It was a pink cloud of regret.
“Sam? I said I’m sorry.” Bobby said ominously.
“I heard you.”
I heard Bobby let out a sigh. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was that of anguish or relief. But I came to realize that it was probably the latter. And then he completely changed the subject.
“Where’s May?”
“At a sleepover party.”
“Ah.” Another minute of silence. Then:
“I get that you’re mad.” For a moment, I stopped breathing and just stared at the door aimlessly.
“Oh?” I said with theatrical sarcasm, “Really?”
“I’m sorry I got you into this whole mess. I know you and Freddie don’t get along well because of Angie. But I was thinking that, you know, just because Angie’s a whore doesn’t mean you and Freddie have to hate each other. I guess I just wanted you guys to get over it. But that’s never going to happen…” He paused for a while and then laughed halfheartedly. “…As proven by the blood coming out of your face.”
I felt my brain get attacked by adrenaline again. Bobby’s frankness made me too angry to reply. My fists were shaking. It was like I was a boxer on steroids, anxiously waiting to destroy someone’s pretty face. That’s just what I wanted to do. I wanted to open the door and punch him in the face, incredibly dramatic, like in the movies. I’d open the door and just let him have it. Then I’d pick up all those bloody tissues and just throw them at him while screaming obscenities….
Then I’d stop. I’d look at his remorseful expression, and then I’d forgive him.
I stared at my pink cloud of regret and watched as the blood still rained from my nose onto the cotton heap. I couldn’t do it. How could I? It was Bobby.
“It’s ok.” I said, still focused on the cloud. “I deserved it. You were just trying to help, right?” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic.
“I try,” he sighed.
My thoughts began to get lost in overwhelming anguish and confusion. Ultimately, they all went back to animal behavior. I understood that Bobby was the untouchable alpha male, the followers were behind him, and Angie and Dan were the outcasts. And I was nothing.
But then I wondered why, with all the underlying circumstances—Bobby being my best friend, Angie my ex, Freddie my mortal enemy—I was assigned to sit on the sidelines? I knew I was nothing…but why was I nothing? Why was I nothing and Freddie—brother to Mary Magdalene, enemy to me—why was he still something?
I shook my head, blood dribbling on my upper lip. I knew why. It was because everyone was intimidated by Freddie. Bobby couldn’t deny someone that everyone heeded to, so Freddie was something. Naturally, no one but the brother of my ex really thought anything of me. So, I was nothing but Bobby’s quaint childhood friend. After all, Bobby was all about the people, right?
My eyes grew wide as an eerie thought struck me. I desperately hoped that no one would follow Freddie in his hate towards me, like they did with “San Fran Dan”. It was hard enough watching them torture Daniel, let alone my self.
I stared at the door, listening to Bobby’s nervous humming. And it was then that I realized why Bobby tried to get Freddie and me to play nice. He didn’t want me to be more than nothing because of Freddie. He didn’t want me to be an outcast…
“I get it. It’s hard trying to help everyone at once.” I said sincerely.
Bobby chuckled. “Everyone except Angie and Dan Thomas.”
After a few minutes, I heard the front door of the house fly open and a pair of anxious feet stomp up the stairs.
I knew at once, just from the piercing concern in her shrill voice that it was my mother. I heard Bobby rise and tell her that I’d been in there for about forty five minutes. She started to knock repeatedly on the bathroom door, like I was dying or something.
“Sammy, baby? Sam, honey, open up.”
I sighed. And it was definitely a sigh of anguish, not relief.
I stood up, stepped over my cloud, and turned the brass knob to the door of a once spotless bathroom.
Mom’s face was priceless. I didn’t know if it was my crooked, blood ridden face, or the disastrous scene in the bathroom, but something made her face turn red. Almost as red as my face. Almost.
“Sam! How did this happen?!”
My nose ached and I felt my bones crackle every time I moved it. I tried to twist and turn it back into its usual place but every time I tried I let out a pathetic moan of pain.
Bobby stood outside the door, trying to reach my mom or dad at work, asking how I was every few minutes. I just kept answering with a groan.
I knew Dad was probably at some big meeting trying to kiss ass and get his former job back. Mom was a nurse so Bobby tried harder to reach her than my father. But Mom just started her night shift at the free clinic so I doubted that she was going to answer a call from her bothersome son. She was probably too busy seeing fifteen patients at the same time.
As my blood danced, I wondered how it came to this. I wondered how I let my guard down at the pizza place and didn’t fight back, like any normal person would’ve. I wondered why Bobby just offered to pay for the pizzas and not even give Freddie a glare. And for a small moment, I wondered if I really wasn’t Bobby’s best friend.
“Sam, your mom answered! She said she’s on her way home!”
I nodded, not realizing that Bobby couldn’t see through walls.
“Sam? Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” I sighed. We sat in silence for a few minutes until I heard some shuffling behind the door and finally a sound.
“Sam…”
“I said I’m fine.”
He paused and I heard his back sliding down the door.
“I’m sorry.”
I started to get sick of the dancing blood. It wasn’t so entertaining anymore. I drew some toilet paper from the roll next to the sink and simply tossed it all on top of the scarlet mess. I moved the paper from side to side with my foot until I realized I was making an even bigger mess. It was a pink cloud of regret.
“Sam? I said I’m sorry.” Bobby said ominously.
“I heard you.”
I heard Bobby let out a sigh. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was that of anguish or relief. But I came to realize that it was probably the latter. And then he completely changed the subject.
“Where’s May?”
“At a sleepover party.”
“Ah.” Another minute of silence. Then:
“I get that you’re mad.” For a moment, I stopped breathing and just stared at the door aimlessly.
“Oh?” I said with theatrical sarcasm, “Really?”
“I’m sorry I got you into this whole mess. I know you and Freddie don’t get along well because of Angie. But I was thinking that, you know, just because Angie’s a whore doesn’t mean you and Freddie have to hate each other. I guess I just wanted you guys to get over it. But that’s never going to happen…” He paused for a while and then laughed halfheartedly. “…As proven by the blood coming out of your face.”
I felt my brain get attacked by adrenaline again. Bobby’s frankness made me too angry to reply. My fists were shaking. It was like I was a boxer on steroids, anxiously waiting to destroy someone’s pretty face. That’s just what I wanted to do. I wanted to open the door and punch him in the face, incredibly dramatic, like in the movies. I’d open the door and just let him have it. Then I’d pick up all those bloody tissues and just throw them at him while screaming obscenities….
Then I’d stop. I’d look at his remorseful expression, and then I’d forgive him.
I stared at my pink cloud of regret and watched as the blood still rained from my nose onto the cotton heap. I couldn’t do it. How could I? It was Bobby.
“It’s ok.” I said, still focused on the cloud. “I deserved it. You were just trying to help, right?” I said, trying not to sound sarcastic.
“I try,” he sighed.
My thoughts began to get lost in overwhelming anguish and confusion. Ultimately, they all went back to animal behavior. I understood that Bobby was the untouchable alpha male, the followers were behind him, and Angie and Dan were the outcasts. And I was nothing.
But then I wondered why, with all the underlying circumstances—Bobby being my best friend, Angie my ex, Freddie my mortal enemy—I was assigned to sit on the sidelines? I knew I was nothing…but why was I nothing? Why was I nothing and Freddie—brother to Mary Magdalene, enemy to me—why was he still something?
I shook my head, blood dribbling on my upper lip. I knew why. It was because everyone was intimidated by Freddie. Bobby couldn’t deny someone that everyone heeded to, so Freddie was something. Naturally, no one but the brother of my ex really thought anything of me. So, I was nothing but Bobby’s quaint childhood friend. After all, Bobby was all about the people, right?
My eyes grew wide as an eerie thought struck me. I desperately hoped that no one would follow Freddie in his hate towards me, like they did with “San Fran Dan”. It was hard enough watching them torture Daniel, let alone my self.
I stared at the door, listening to Bobby’s nervous humming. And it was then that I realized why Bobby tried to get Freddie and me to play nice. He didn’t want me to be more than nothing because of Freddie. He didn’t want me to be an outcast…
“I get it. It’s hard trying to help everyone at once.” I said sincerely.
Bobby chuckled. “Everyone except Angie and Dan Thomas.”
After a few minutes, I heard the front door of the house fly open and a pair of anxious feet stomp up the stairs.
I knew at once, just from the piercing concern in her shrill voice that it was my mother. I heard Bobby rise and tell her that I’d been in there for about forty five minutes. She started to knock repeatedly on the bathroom door, like I was dying or something.
“Sammy, baby? Sam, honey, open up.”
I sighed. And it was definitely a sigh of anguish, not relief.
I stood up, stepped over my cloud, and turned the brass knob to the door of a once spotless bathroom.
Mom’s face was priceless. I didn’t know if it was my crooked, blood ridden face, or the disastrous scene in the bathroom, but something made her face turn red. Almost as red as my face. Almost.
“Sam! How did this happen?!”
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