.49.

                                    

                                          
Lunch has been fairly silent. Owen doesn't bother with the pleasantries, at least not with me. 
                          
But at least I'm not at my apartment with that fucking balcony.
                          
I've been pushing my food around on my plate, trying to keep my thoughts away from all the dark places they want to live.
                          
"What happened?" Owen asks, his voice breaking the silence.
                          
Without any hesitation it falls out of me because I know Owen will get it. "My dad's in town."
                          
"How'd you find out?" His mouth full of food, muffling his words.
                          
"Had a conference call with him and Julia showed up to get lunch with him." 
                          
There it is. The hurt. It blooms in my chest, spreading through my body, sucking what little bit of life remains in me.
                          
"He's an asshole." Owen says just like he always has. "Don't let him get to you, he's not worth it."
                          
I nod along. I know the ideology of doing away with the people that don't see your worth. I've heard it. Thought about it. 
                          
But he's my dad.
                          
My family.
                          
And something about that makes it fucking impossible.
                          
Besides, I'm not really sure what my worth is, if I have any.
                          
Owen reaches across the table for the hot sauce but it plunks to the ground, falling through his closed fingers. His eyes meet mine because of course I have to be an ass and I'm staring at him. 
                          
I still haven't gotten used to Owen post accident. Probably because once we graduated high school I barely saw him until now. I still expect him to be sturdy and agile, quick and sure footed but he's not. He limps, his right leg dragging. He seems to always hold his drinks in his left hand but I specifically remember him being right handed. 
                          
He retracts his hand and leans across the table with his left, this time the bottle is firmly in his grip. 
                          
"My right side is hit or miss depending on the day." He says.
                          
"Does it hurt?" The question falls out of me before I can think twice. 
                          
He shrugs. "Sometimes."
                          
I watch him as he flips the cap open with his thumb and covers his food in hot sauce. He waits until he's done to tell me more. 
                          
"Nerve pain mostly. Weed and staying active helps." He says. "I got a lot of function back though so I'm doing better than most."
                          
Looking down at my food, I've completely lost my appetite not that I had a great one to begin with. I can't stop myself from thinking about how I'm the reason Owen's like he is. That I fucked him up, all because I had to throw that stupid party. 
                          
"You know, I don't blame you." Owen says as if he can read my thoughts. "I did this to myself."
                          
I shake my head, disagreeing and I hear Owen let out an annoyed sigh, leaning back against the booth. 
                          
"Yeah, I guess life would have been easier if I hadn't broke my neck but shit Drew, I've had some really great things happen to me since." He says. "I don't really regret it."
                          
"What?" Our eyes meet and even though I can tell he means it, I don't believe him. "How?"
                          
He nudges his food away from him slightly and I wonder if he's lost his appetite too. 
                          
"I wouldn't have met Mina if I didn't have to go to therapy. I probably wouldn't have been friends with Max or Chelsea either." He says. But I can't help but think that we would have still been friends. "I don't know, I learned a lot about myself after my accident, it made me push myself."
                          
I can't stop myself, the words falling out of me even though I know it'll just piss Owen off. "I'm sorry I wasn't there Owen."
                          
Surprise hits me like a slap in the face when he doesn't instantly tell me to go fuck myself. But I can see he wants to, his brown eyes hardening slightly.
                          
"No one else is stuck on what you did in high school Drew but you. Move on." 
                          
So it was a slightly more civil way of telling me to fuck off. 
                          
"I didn't do it to hurt you." My voice a whisper.
                          
I can feel him staring at me, studying me, probably seeing right through me to the mess that I am. But I'm being honest. I didn't sleep with Jaelyn to hurt Owen. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
                          
"I know why you did it." He says after a moment. "Doesn't change the fact that you did though."
                          
All I can do is nod my head in agreement. I deserve to be like this, to feel like this. This must be what years of being selfish amount to. 
                          
"You remember in high school, after I came back?" Owen asks. "I never meant it. About you killing yourself or whatever I said."
                          
My heart freezes in my chest and even though I'm staring right at Owen, I feel like I'm back on that overpass about to throw myself over the edge. I was mumbling apologies into the night air, begging for everyone to forgive me. Apologizing for all the wrongs I committed. The list to Owen was long. 
                          
"I was just mad and being an asshole." Owen adds. 
                          
"I deserve it." The words leave my mouth without my consent. 
                          
Owen's brown eyes meet mine, his forehead creases slightly, eyebrows knitting and I swear I see the anger fade from his face. I'm not sure if it's just in my head or not but then without so much as a pause he says, "No Drew. You don't." 
                          
I feel like this should be a moment where the tears finally break through. Where emotions hit me but nothing happens. Owen and I just regard each other from across the table, our barely touched food between us. 
                          
But then Owen picks up his fork, in his left hand, and pulls his plate back in front of him. 
                          
"We're still not friends." He mutters, glancing up at me as he loads his forks. 
                          
But I smile because even though I know I don't deserve his forgiveness or his friendship, and I know Owen doesn't want to admit that he cares even a little bit, he keeps showing up when I need him. 
                          
That's more than I ever I did for him. 
                          
I'm a shit friend.
                          
                           —————————
                          
I. Just. Can't. Help. It. Owen 💙. He's such a sweet jerk.
                          
Question for the day! Favorite musician/band/singer? You can give me top 3 or 5 or whatever if you can't narrow it down.
                          
My top 3 are:
1. Brand New
2. nothing, nowhere
3. John Mellencamp
                          
And just for kicks and giggles my top handful of songs on repeat are currently:
                          
1. Hammer by nothing, nowhere
2. Truth Hurts by Lizzo
3. Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi
4. Godzilla by Eminem
5. Church by Fall Out Boy ft nothing, nowhere