I just keep my eyes on hers, wanting to reach out and bring her into my arms to protect her…even if it’s from herself.
“What’s your color right now?”
I know it’s stupid to ask, but I want her to have something to talk about gently and maybe something positive to pull from.
She stares back like she’s searching for the answer to give me, then decides to just be honest.
“Red,” she whispers. Then, sharper. “Does it matter? The ‘deep breathing and water’ thing won’t make me less of what I am.”
“What are you?” I ask, gently.
Sometimes repeating the accusation out loud shrinks it because you hear the lies in it.
She swallows and runs her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “Poison,” she says. A bitter echo of a joke made on a good night. She looks away like she regrets letting that one out. “I’m—” She chokes on it and then pushes through. “I’m the girl who will always ruin anything good. And you—” She looks back, anger taking over the shame. “You don’t want this. You want the version of me that makes you feel like you helped fix something. You want the miracle girl, not…me. Especially when I’m a mess.”
My first instinct is to reach for her and tell her that’s a lie, argue the case, but I just place my hands on my knees instead.
“I want you alive,” I say simply. “And I want you to have a day two. Not because it makes me feel needed. Because I like you. Sober. Messy. Bored. Angry. Whateverversion you wake up as. I’m not here to be some savior, Lydia.” I tip my head toward the brick. “No cape.”
She snorts at that, but her mouth wobbles a little. “You keep saying that like you don’t always have one hidden.”
“I just have a mediocre plan,” I say.
She looks at me, curious…and hopeful.
“The plan is…water, a walk back to somewhere that feels safe for you, food if you can stomach it. Then Lani and Simone, if you want them. Then sleep. Then maybe brainstorming a map for tonight and tomorrow. No speeches. No worrying about any guilt.”
Something in her tightens back up again, panic flashing across her face. “I can’t—” Her breath hitches. “I can’t see them yet. Not like this.”
“Okay,” I say immediately. “So we don’t call them yet.”
She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes and shakes her head, angry at herself. “God, I hate this. I hate that I want you to fix it. I hate that I want you here. I hate that I keep using you like a—” she cuts herself off and bites down on the word, “crutch.”
“I’m here because I choose to be,” I say. “You’re not using me. You asked for company, not to be rescued. I can be company.”
She exhales painfully. “You should go.”
“If you want me to, I will,” I say. “Mean it, and I’m gone. But I think that’s just the shame talking. How about I stay for ten more minutes…then you can tell me to leave if it doesn’t change.”
She stares at me. “Ten.”
“Ten.” I look at my watch and set a mental timer.
We don’t talk for the first two. We just breathe silently together. Her hands tremble, and I slide my water bottle toward her. “Small sips,” I say. “I’ll even pretend to hate the water with you.”
She glares at the bottle like it offended her, then takes a sip, and another. The shaking doesn’t stop, but it eases up.
“What happened?” I finally ask.
She shrugs, and the tears cloud her eyes again. “Therapy was…rough,” she says. “Pulled some old crappy memories out. I felt all raw and exposed and exhausted, so I…you know, shut down.” She looks away. “Then I kinda had a panic attack in the courtyard alone. Then you came along and helped…until the help stopped working. Then I went to group thinkingthatwould help. It didn’t…and after the group, I was walking back to my dorm when I ran into that guy. The one from um…the party.”
I know the confusion and disbelief has to be written all over my face. “The guy who…”
She nods.
Every muscle in me goes tight. “Did he touch you?”
“Yes…but not like that. Just…grabbed my arms when I bumped into him,” she says quickly. “It was enough, though. I ran…and I didn’t know where I was going, and there was a party going on in the building I ran into, and—” She shrugs again, disappointed in herself. “I didn’t mean to end up there…but I did…and I just…I wanted the quiet it was offering so easily.”
