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“You okay?” I asked. It was a stupid question, one that she’d no doubt say yes to, but I hoped she’d tell me no, and I hoped she’d be honest with me. I wished…
I wished she wasn’t hurting herself.
I’d kept my words inside as she ate the food I’d bought her and then headed upstairs for a shower. I’d managed to keep myself from going up there, but the more time that passed, the more questions I had.
“Yes,” she whispered, in that small, soft voice which always managed to calm me. Even when she was a little girl, she had an aura about her that drew me in. “No,” she finally admitted with a slump of her shoulders.
“Aria?” I didn’t know why I was trying to get her attention. Maybe it was because I needed her eyes focused on me, or maybe I was trying to portray something to her that even I didn’t know.
She stared at the floor, not willing to look up, so I stepped forward and grasped her chin with my thumb and finger, just like I had an hour ago in this very spot. Her soft skin whispered over my fingertips, and I knew right then I wouldn’t be able to let her go. I’d opened up a door that had been firmly locked, and now I couldn’t close it, no matter what I did.
I didn’t want to close it.
Her head tilted back, and she finally gave me her eyes. Honey-colored eyes that kept me captive. “I…” I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know what to ask. I didn’t know where to start.
The scars.
Scars I had seen with my own two eyes.
Scars I couldn’t ignore.
Scars I hadn’t asked her about.
It was my obligation as her teacher to report it, but I knew I wouldn’t. I’d bend the rules for Aria. I’d break them. I’d decimate them. Because none of it mattered when it came to her.
“It’s relief,” Aria blurted out, her eyes misting with tears. “I do it so I feel like I can breathe again.”
I swallowed against the lump building in my throat and shuffled closer to her, ready to catch her if she needed me to. “So it’s not…” I couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t form them and get them past my lips. But I needed to know if she was suicidal. I needed to know she wasn’t trying to eradicate herself.
“No.” She stared at me with sheer determination. “It’s never been about that.” Her nostrils flared, and she reached up to hold on to my forearm. “You should know that without even asking.”
“Should I, though?” I raised a brow, meeting her fierceness with my own. “You’re cutting yourself, Aria. You’re scarring your skin just to feel relief.”
She backed away so fast I swayed forward. “You don’t get it.” She limped back and forth in front of me. “No one ever gets it.”
I frowned and ground my teeth together. “Are you saying other people know you do this?” My anger was boiling over. If people knew, then why the hell was she still doing it? I saw the fresh cut, I witnessed the scab that wasn’t years old. I saw the old ones; I saw the amount. God, she had so many, and I was sure there would be more farther up her thighs. She was riddling herself with marks, and it broke my goddamn heart.
She was in a world of her own as she spoke. “Mom found out once”—she laughed, the sound eerie—“but I told her I wouldn’t do it again, and she believed me.” She dropped her chin to her chest and whispered, “Of course she believed me. Why wouldn’t she?”
“Aria…” I wanted to step forward, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. Did she need space? Did she need me to hold her? I had no idea because I’d never been confronted with anything like this before.
“I’m not trying to kill myself,” she suddenly said, her voice brooking no room for argument. “I’m not like him.”
I blinked, not expecting her to have said that. The last time she’d mentioned him to me had been at the hospital nine years ago, and since then, she’d burrowed herself away in her own little safe space. But maybe that was the problem. She hadn’t dealt with it, and now it had manifested into…this.
“I can get you help,” I told her, straightening my back. “We can make you better, and—”
“Better?” She screwed up her nose. “That’s what this is about?” She shook her head, and I heard her huff of breath as she limped toward the door and into the hallway. “I knew I shouldn’t have stayed—”
“Stop.”
She didn’t stop. She kept backing away. She was running from her problems, but I wasn’t going to stand here and allow her to do that anymore. She needed to face it head-on.
“Just…leave me alone.” She was saying the words she thought she should, but I could hear the sadness behind them. I could sense the heartbreak, but also the silent plea showcased in her eyes. She’d made sure to tell me her mom had believed her, but she shouldn’t have. Just because someone said something didn’t mean it was the truth.
I darted forward, catching her up in two strides. “No.” I grasped her arm and pulled her to me, my arms ready and primed to hold her against my chest. This wasn’t me talking to a student. It wasn’t even me talking to someone who had become part of the family over the years. This was simply a guy hoping he could help save the girl, even if it was from herself.
“If you don’t want to talk to a shrink, then don’t.” I flattened my palm against the bottom of her back and dipped down so our faces were level. “If you don’t want to put everything out there, then don’t.” I moved my other hand to the side of her face. “I won’t make you promise to not do it again. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t make you do anything.” I paused, hoping the truth shining in my eyes drove my point home. “But I ask that you come to me.” I pulled in a breath. “I ask when you feel sad, you come to me. When you feel like you have no other option but to cut, talk to me. If you do cut, reach for me.”
