John rubs his neck nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. “I called, but you didn’t answer, so I just waited.”
“Sorry, I was asleep,” I mumble, giving a halfhearted smile. “I probably look insane right now.”
“You look beautiful,” Simone and John say simultaneously. A brief silence hangs there before we all laugh, and for just a second, something in my chest eases. It feels lighter having them both here. I mean, I always feel better when Simone is around, but having John here too, having someone else who cares…it makes me feel a little less alone.
Simone sits beside me on the bed as John pulls a chair closer. “How are youactuallyfeeling, Lydia?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say, forcing a lightness into my voice. Simone eyes me skeptically.
“It’s okay not to be okay,” Simone tells me.
“Okay…obviously I’m not great…but I’m trying. I really am.”
“You deserve to be okay,” John says. “You deserve to be able to heal. All these people can kiss your ass.”
“Thank you,” I laugh out. “Hey, did you ever find out anything with my locker by chance?”
John’s expression turns regretful. “At first, they acted like they couldn’t tell me anything, but after some convincing, they went and asked around for me. They said they never touched your locker. That they didn’t know what happened to your stuff. I’m sorry.”
I just nod numbly. “Someone had to have gotten into my locker and thrown it all away on purpose.”
Simone clenches her jaw. “That’s bullshit. They shouldn’t be able to get away with doing that.”
I shrug softly. “Doesn’t really matter anymore. They wanted me gone…and they got what they wanted, I guess.”
“You can use my textbooks if it helps,” John offers quietly.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We just stayed there, all talking. The conversation is easy and distracts me for a while from the dumpster fire that is my life. I’m grateful for it. Grateful for them.
Sarah gets home and pokes her head in my bedroom door, telling everyone that she needs to talk to me. John and Simone both stand up, offering quiet goodbyes before leaving me alone with her.
She sits at the edge of my bed once they’re gone, watching me cautiously. “How are you?”
Honestly, I’m tired of being asked that. No one can fix anything that’s wrong. What’s the point in always asking?
“Not the best.”
“What can we do?” she asks.
“I just wanna finish school online…please?” I beg. “I tried to go back. I tried to be normal. I tried to do everything everyone has asked me to do, and I still ended up here. I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to finish school and not deal with those people.”
Sarah just nods. “We can do that.”
I’m so thankful someone is finally listening to me, finally understanding I can’t take being beaten down at that school or any other anymore.
“John said I can borrow his textbooks, so you won’t have to replace them or anything.”
“We’ll make it work, Lydia. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, genuinely.
I can see the love and concern in her eyes, and it momentarily makes it click in my head that she actually cares…maybe? I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t think I’ve let myself accept hers or Mark’s affection and genuine concern out of self-protection…but I wonder if that’s still necessary. If I’m actually safe here.
She places a hand over mine. “We love you. I know this has all been extremely hard, and I wish I could take it all away and make things better. You’re so strong.”
As soon as she leaves, I throw myself back on my bed and hiss at the pain I keep forgetting about. I blindly reach under my bed and grab the hidden bottle again, desperate for it, letting it burn away all the pain still lingering—inside and out.
