Free Random by Tom Leveen

something? It’d hurt a lot less.”
    Andy is quiet again for a minute. “Thing is,” he says, and sounds like he’s back in control of himself, “it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision.”
    That sounds promising. If he hasn’t been planning it, then maybe he isn’t committed to going through with it.
    â€œI realized,” Andy goes on, “that, for one thing, it wouldn’t hurt, not really. No more than a gunshot would, anyway. And pills, someone could stop me. Find me before they finished me off. And this way, nobody else gets hurt.”
    â€œHow would someone else get hurt any other way?”
    â€œI just mean that this way, it could be an accident,” Andy says. “No one would ever know I did it on purpose.”
    â€œExcept me.”
    â€œWell, yes. Except you. Sorry.”
    Great.
    â€œWhat you said before,” Andy goes. “About my ill-fated romance. You really don’t mind listening? Because like I said, it gets a little sappy.”
    I check the clock. Holy crud, it’s after two. Except . . . I don’t yawn.
    â€œI’m all ears,” I tell him.
    â€œPromise?” Andy says.
    â€œPromise.”
    â€œYou a woman of your word?”
    â€œUh . . . I think so.”
    â€œWay to inspire confidence, there.”
    â€œLook,” I tell him, “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you from doing what you said you were going to do.”
    â€œYou’re having a hard time with the word ‘suicide,’ Tori.”
    â€œWell, yeah. Sorry.”
    Thankfully, he skips asking for clarification. “Will you promise not to ask if I’m serious again?”
    â€œYou can trust me.”
    â€œI can trust you, huh?” Andy says, like there’s a smirk on his face. “Trust you with my life?”
    â€œWell, I mean, I’d rather you didn’t have to,” I say, honestly enough. “I’d really rather you just said, ‘Thanks, I feel better now,’ and then drive home.”
    â€œI can’t do that, Tori. I really can’t.”
    â€œWhy not?” I ask him, trying for a logical tone this time. “Why not just go home and get some sleep? Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning. You could talk to your parents, or—”
    â€œI’ve tried that, I’ve tried everything,” he says. “I tried talking to my parents. I tried going to a counselor. They even tried me on medication, and none of it worked. You know?”
    Yes , I want to say, but don’t. Not that I have personal experience with it, but. Yes. I know.
    â€œIt was just an idea,” I say. “So go ahead. I’m listening.”
    Listening is not something I do well, but I’m going to try.
    Maybe it will help.
    Me, not Andy.
    â€œOkay, so. Where do I start?”
    â€œKayla,” I say.
    Andy hesitates. “You remembered her name.”
    â€œWell—sure.”
    â€œOkay. That’s impressive. I’ll take that. Here we go. I met her at—”
    Jack barrels through my door. “Time’s up!”
    I almost shriek in surprise, and Jack looks like that’s exactly the reaction he was looking for. Smirking, he scoops up his laptop and hustles out of my room and down the hall.
    Fine. Whatever. I kick the door shut, hoping it didn’t wake up my parents.
    â€œSorry,” I say to Andy. “Small interruption. I’m back.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œTotally sure,” I say, peeking through my blinds. “So tell me about your girlfriend.”
    â€œWell, she’s not my girlfriend anymore, for one thing.”
    â€œOkay, so tell me about your ex-girlfriend.”
    â€œShe’s not my ex, either,” Andy says.
    â€œOkay, so, what is she?”
    â€œShe’s dead.”

Kevin Cooper wrote on your timeline.
    September 2, one year ago.
    Hey Tori. You want to hang out sometime after school?
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