_{‘     ‘cause i had a couple drinks ?    like    —   what,   like all of a sudden you the damn  expert  at keepin’ your shit together ?    i’m  good,   linden.    be even better if you quit riding my  fuckin’  ass about it.     ’}

_{he’s sober now,   but he might as well  not  be.    vitriol burns the throat worse than liquor ever did.    blurs the line between concern and confrontation until his defenses are shored up and he’s ready to start counting down the minutes to his next hit.    (   let him fall apart.    it’s the only way he’ll pick up the pieces.   )}

_{a week has gone by since bullet was admitted to the hospital.    comatose with  multiple  defensive wounds,   broken wrist,   fractured ribs.    throat slit wide open.    a fucking week and he can’t let go,   can’t shake the guilt,   can’t silence the voices repeating a chorus of  you put her there.    you put her in that trunk.}

_{her name on the caller ID,   ignored.    her calls to the station,   unheeded.    she’d  lied  to him about lyric and pastor mike,   manipulated the situation,   but it wasn’t out of spite    —    she wanted to get his attention.    wanted him to do something,   find her friend,   make sure lyric didn’t end up like  kallie.    if it hadn’t been linden whose life was on the line,   things might have turned out differently.}

_{he should have picked up his phone,   just once,   that’s all it’d take.    should’ve called her back.}

_{but he didn’t,   and now bullet is paying the price.}

_{the way linden’s looking at him,   it feels like being put under a microscope.    shutting her out  should be so fucking easy    —    except,   somehow,   it’s not.    because she’s still here.    after everything,   she’s the  only one  who’s still here.    he passes over a cigarette and lights it for her,   then takes one for himself.}

_{‘     i fucked up,   alright ?     ’}

_{with trace amounts of powdered residue along the edge of his credit card,   that’s putting it mildly.    she doesn’t interrupt,   but she blows out smoke with a twitch of her mouth as if to say,   yeah,   holder,   you did.}

_{‘     i just    —    can’t stop thinkin’ about it,   about how  …  we  had  him,   you know ?    she had him.    we could’ve closed this thing that  night.    if i’d just    ––––      ’}

_{‘     don’t do that.     ’}

_{he winces,   pulling smoke into his lungs.   they’ve been here before.       ‘     ’s too late,   linden.     ’}

_{‘     no.    no,   it isn’t.    you know why ?    look at me.     ’}

_{her eyes are blue,   vivid blue.    it’s the most color he’s ever seen in seattle.    even the  water  doesn’t look blue,   even on the brightest day.    everything else is monochrome,   dirty grey and ash - black.    arterial red stained into vehicle upholstery and a teenage girl’s skin.}

_{linden holds his gaze.       ‘     she’s  alive.    and it’s not your fault,   holder.    it’s not your fault.     ’}

_{somewhere close by,   the seagulls are crying.    circling,   if he looks up.    there’s a breeze blowing in from the waterfront with a chill to it but he doesn’t feel cold,   doesn’t feel much of anything.    her eyes are so fucking blue.}

_{it’s not your fault.}

_{and he has to believe her.}

_MEME.