Free Orion Cross My Sky by Rosa Sophia Page B

waiting for an answer to his unspoken question, which she knew was something along the lines of, ‘what happened to you?’
    “How are you so perceptive?” Squashing the urge to cry, she rebuilt the wall around her heart, her intent gaze projecting a dare. Try as he might, how could he possibly break down that wall, and what would be the point in attempting it?
    “Maybe instead of asking you what’s wrong, I should tell you about me,” he said.
    “Sure.” That was easier. She wouldn’t have to divulge the truth about herself, that her heart had long since been shattered by her own father, leaving no hope for repair.
    Orion’s heat provided a comforting buffer from the chill of the night, and he held her close as they looked up at the sky. “You asked me why I wear a scarf when it’s not really that cold, at least to you.”
    “Yeah.”
    “I have trigeminal neuralgia. It’s supposed to be some of the worst pain known to medical science. There’s some kinda signal malfunction between my brain and my nerves, so pain signals are sent to my face.”
    His voice broke, and she almost thought he was going to cry. It shocked her, and she held her breath for a moment. Instead of shedding tears, he kept talking, but it seemed as if he were forcing himself.
    “Some people call it the suicide disease, and they’re right. I mean, I don’t want to scare you, Tam, but I do want to be honest with you.”
    “Keep going,” she urged, though she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
    “I’ve had it my whole life and it just keeps gettin’ worse. I was diagnosed two years ago, so my entire childhood, I just dealt with it, I don’t know how. They didn’t know what was wrong with me all those years. When the worst of it hits, I think of all the different ways I could kill myself, because this pain…this pain is completely pointless. It usually happens in the morning, which means wakin’ up is terrifying. I’m afraid of waking up in the morning.”
    He sounded defeated, but Tammy knew he wasn’t. Not yet.
    “You wouldn’t, would you?” She needed to hear the words.
    “No. No, I won’t. Tried once, though.”
    “You did?”
    “When I was fourteen. But…Tam, I swear, I wouldn’t try it again. Even though my life ain’t too great, I just don’t think I could end it.”
    “ Why isn’t your life that great?”
    He tightened his hold on her as if worried she would slip away. “You don’t need to hear about how shitty my home life is, do you?”
    “Tell me.”
    They stared toward the lake, which they couldn’t see in the darkness. Tammy feared there was a lot they couldn’t see. She hoped it wouldn’t mean the destruction of something that had yet to begin.
    “It’s never been that great,” Orion said. “I don’t really get along with either of my parents, but Mom’s a drinker, and Dad’s just…I don’t know. He thinks I should be able to get over this pain, like my neuralgia can just go away if I stop thinkin’ about it.”
    She scoffed. “It sounds terrifying, your condition. I don’t see how it could just go away without treatment or something.”
    “Well, he thinks otherwise. He’s tried to throw my medication away more than once.”
    She shook her head in disbelief as she dug her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket. “Is there anything you can do? I mean, to feel better?”
    He snuggled against her. “I take gabapentin. It’s an anti-convulsant. Sometimes, I imagine a little person inside my head, a smaller version of myself, having a seizure. The neuralgia is kind of like that. To me, anyway. Only it doesn’t show on the outside.”
    “Does the medication help?”
    “I think so, but when I have a flare-up like I’ve been having, nothin’ seems to help. All I can do is wait out the pain. Sometimes, I punch the damn furniture. Near broke my hand last year. I’m out of pain medication, had some problems with my health insurance…which means I have to hurry up and wait until I can