She would go to the one for the terminally ill in the hospital, but then she just started going to others because she wanted somewhere to be where she wasn’t the sick girl. Where she was defined by her own voice and no one else’s. She knew it was wrong. Usually she’d be in and out before people got to the sharing part, but she’d be lying if she said she never lingered; never felt so lost that she just needed someone to talk to who wasn’t looking at her like she was the walking dead. So she told herself she came for the coffee and cookies, sometimes she stuck around to be seen.
Caffeine was a poison Xan would have to indulge in small doses. The stress on the rest of her organs from her failing kidney made caffeine hard on her liver. She could never drink alcohol, so she found a way to make the most out of a cup of coffee. Usually after one she’d get a stomachache, yet here she was looking into her fourth cup of coffee feeling better than she’d felt in her entire life.
There was a sinking feeling in her gut that she couldn’t shake, that something was wrong. That she was wrong. It hurt her head to try to connect the dots. She squeezed her phone tightly. That compulsion to scroll through every app and text freezing her in place. Every time she went to text to someone she’d feel paralyzed with a sense of dread. It wasn’t like the dread that had followed her for so long in life, that oncoming expiration date. This was something else, an existential crisis at every micro decision and non-decision.
“Did you want to come up and introduce yourself?”
A voice broke her train of thought, Xan looking up to the room to realize they were all staring at her. She almost dropped her cookies, losing her grip for a moment while she re-oriented herself. Xan gave a weak smile, shaking her heard no then leaving hurriedly. She threw her coffee and cookies into the bin as she left.
She found a bench around the side of the church, collapsing onto it wrapping her arms around her knees and burying her face into them so that her hair spilled over to reach the tops of her converse. She’d only ever left Widows Peak en route to or from a Hospital, having to stick around her local physicians to assure they were only a call away at all times. Yet here she was in her hometown and she felt like a fucking stranger.
“You okay?”
Xan looked up, recognizing the woman from inside.
“You looked like you might want someone to talk to that wasn’t in front of a group of strangers.” Full lips pulled back, her two front teeth too big for her smile – but they just made her shine brighter. Xan tilted her head to the side, enraptured immediately. She sat down beside Xan, offering her hand. “I’m Raven.”
“Xan….nice to meet you.” She said in return, taking Raven’s hand gently. There was a beat of silence that followed, the look in Raven’s eye told Xan she expected a little more than just a name and pleasantry in return. “Oh – well, I should be honest I’m not an addict. I just…well I don’t really know what.”
Raven gave a knowing look, nodding her head as she looked out into the distance. Xan couldn’t tell if she believed her or just thought Xan was in a phase of denial, but either way she could sense the understanding from the way the corner of their eyes crinkled with concern. “I think most people who come here just want a place to be heard. I guess I just recognized that look you had when you walked out. There have been people I didn’t go after when I saw that look and – well, I just didn’t want to keep making the same mistake.”
Xan had to look away to keep herself from crying, forcing herself to laugh instead. “Sorry – I don’t mean to laugh.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” Raven smiled again, this time it reached her eyes. She rifled around in her bag for a moment pulling out a card and handing it to Xan. “Here. Call me if you ever want someone to listen. Not to brag or anything but I’m pretty decent at it.”
Xan took the card nervously, her lips pressing themselves flat in an attempt to maintain her composure. The heavy card stock and embossed letters on the back took Xan aback, expecting it to be some poorly cut business card of some social worker. She ran her thumb over the letters as she read:
Raven Bloom
Life Coach
Life Coach
“Life Coach, huh?” Xan chuckled, looking up – but Raven was gone already. She glanced around briefly, shrugging when Raven was no longer in sight. Her stomach growled, regretting the decision to throw out the cookies. She’d had four cups of coffee and no food. She slid the business card into her back pocket, shoving her hands into her front pockets and walking towards downtown to find a place to eat.