Free The Darker Side of Trey Grey by Tara Spears

towards Seattle, but I stared out the window and remained mute. With a soft swear he quit trying, and we drove the rest of the way in thick silence.
    The Masserati dropped down onto Seneca street, and when we pulled up to the club, I climbed out without a backwards glance.
    “Don’t let me ruin you, Freddie. Forget you ever saw me.” With that bit of wisdom, I closed the door.
    Kitten purred at me all the way home, telling me how much she had missed me, and that she forgave me for leaving her in a strange lot overnight. I wasn’t as forgiving of myself.
    I ended my weekend sitting on the floor of my shower, watching the blood-tinged water swirling down the drain until the shower ran cold.  
    The next morning as I sat in the coffee shop sipping my coffee and picking at a banana-nut muffin, Taylor settled across from me with a hopeful expression.
    “Hey, did you get the job?” he asked.
    It took me a second to remember what I had said to him.
    I shook my head, waving my fingers dismissively. “No, that job wasn’t for me. Um...” My skin stung, my nerves rattled, and after my weekend I knew I couldn’t handle Taylor right now. “Listen, I had a mental breakdown yesterday. I’m not a very stable person”— I laughed a little too cynically— “Honestly, I’m too fucked up to be involved with anyone on a personal level. You need to just forget about me.” I slumped back in my chair and took a swallow of my coffee as I watched Taylor’s face twist in confusion then disappointment.
    I’m not sure he believed me; however, he rose and walked stiffly away without a word. I wasn’t bothered that it might get around. This wasn’t gossip, it was true and the truth would keep people away from me. What a fucktabulous start to my mini vacation.

Chapter Six
     
    After classes, I grappled through half my laundry before I was a sniveling, quivering mess. Some days the task of washing my work clothes was fairly easy, and others impossible. Today the black bag did me in, and sent me running to my shower like a coward. It hadn’t touched my skin, but what it held was filthy and foul.
    An hour later I returned— and with shaking, gloved hands I managed to finish. I left the tainted jacket in a washer, and the bag on the floor though. I couldn’t touch either of them again.
    After the laundry debacle, I managed a sense of decorum for a few days and began to feel more in control. I maintained a simple routine that seemed to be working; breakfast at University Coffee, classes, homework, cup o’ noodles, movie, and then bed. A numbing calm settled over me, and my breakdown at Freddie’s became a distant hazy memory.
    I’d made the week without any more episodes, and in celebration I had dinner at a little cafe called Sunrise Friday evening before I headed to the drug store to pick up a few things. Razors, shaving cream, bleach, and as I stood searching the scrub brushes I was dismayed to find they no longer carried the one I’ve used for the last two years. Now what?
    I touched them one by one. Too soft, too soft, whoa , I could do some major damage with that one— I was tempted, but I decided I really did need my skin. I sighed. I didn’t like the ones with handles. They were hard to control. I knew all the body brushes would be too soft, so I didn’t even go to that aisle. Resigned, I left without a new one. I would have to take extra care with my old one until I found a suitable replacement.
    With everything put away, I flipped on the TV and settled in with my licorice whips and a soda. Gad, for a Friday night my choices were limited. I clicked on Battleship, having never seen it. Despite the fast pace of the movie, I found myself dozing. I thumbed the remote, killing the flat-screen, and went to bed.
    Tomorrow was Saturday, and the empty day yawned before me. Maybe kitten and I would go for a drive. We hadn’t done that in a long time. I fell asleep on that happy probability.
    * * * * *
    “I love watching you.