“No worries,” she says, already tapping away. “I have the number in my contacts. There were a bunch by the bar. They’ll be here in a jiffy, I’m sure.”
“What happened?” I ask Oscar. We all know what happened — we were all there. But I also know there was something else to it. Something big.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quietly, and I decide to let it go.
I sit silently next to him, and Corrie paces impatiently. Next thing you know, she’s tapping away on her phone. I hear bell sounds.
“Are you playing Yahtzee again?”
“What? I’m bored.”
I smile. It is awkward, and I kind of wish I could pull out my phone and play a game of Yahtzee too, but that would probably be very insensitive.
Before long, a taxi swoops in and takes Corrie away. She waves us bye. “That was a hell of a punch, Oscar,” she calls out as she climbs in the cab. “Good for you.”
He waves, and shoots her a forced smile.
We silently watch her drive away. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. When the silence becomes unbearable, I finally ask, “What happened?”
“I just can’t stand the guy, that’s all.”
“It’s more than that, Oscar. I know you. I know you don’t carry that much hate in you.”
“I told you… I just despise the asshole.”
“Is this just jealousy?” I ask. “Please tell me this isn’t all about me.”
He turns to me, and his eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. “Yeah, it’s about you, Kayla. It’s about all the stories you told me… all the horrible things he did to you. Every day, he tore you down, but you were strong, and you got back up. Not everyone is as strong as you are.”
“I don’t know if I would have been able to get up if it weren’t for my mom.”
A hint of a smile traces his lips. “I know… your mom is great. If I’d been there, I would have had your back too. I would have beaten the shit out of him.”
I huddle and hug myself tightly — the night air is chilly. “I’m sure you would have.”
“Kids like that should be put behind bars,” he goes on. “They have no idea how much damage they can do.”
His words make me curious. “Were you ever bullied, Oscar?”
He shakes his head. “No… not me.”
“Then who?” I ask quietly.
His voice cracks when he says, “My brother.”
His brother? Oscar doesn’t have a brother. He has one older sister. “What? I thought it was just you and Jessica.”
“It is now,” he tells me, “but we used to have a brother.”
I’m shocked. I thought I knew everything there was to know about Oscar. “What happened?”
“He killed himself. He was only fifteen.”
My heart sinks at his words. I wonder why he never mentioned this before. Suicide is unfortunately more common than people think. It’s something that should be talked about. “Was it because he was being bullied?”
“Yeah… it was,” he tells me. “But it was more than that.”
“Did he suffer from depression?” I ask. I want to know more. I want to know why he did it, how he did it. I want to understand. I want to help Oscar.
