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I imagine him sitting in his house, probably huge and fancy, if his stock-market career is anything to go by. The other students often talk about that, not that stocks make much sense to me.
I’m thinking about my parents.
I send it quickly because otherwise, I know I won’t send it at all otherwise. That might be for the best, but he asked for honesty.
And there’s something in me, this urge to talk about it with somebody who isn’t Hudson.
What about them?he asks.
It’s pretty horrible. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.
Do you want to tell me? I’m here for you if you do….
Surely, this is a sign he cares about me on some level. Or is this another example of the Second Chance tutors putting in the extra effort with the students?
Then I think, screw it.Screwit.
I want to talk about this. And even if things are confusing with Elias, he wants to listen. He’s ready to listen.
Basically, there was this girl in school. I thought she was my best friend. But I later realized she was a narcissist who enjoyed manipulating, bullying, and putting me down. So I ended the friendship…and she burned my house down with my parents in it. Either she accidentally trapped herself inside or meant to do it to herself, but I doubt it. She loved herself too much. I think she got stuck somehow.
I stop, my breath coming quickly, staring at the text.
Soon after I click send, Elias tries to call me.
I reject the call, my breath picking up even more.
I can’t speak about this over the phone, I send.
That’s fine, Della. I get it. Jesus. That’s evil. That’s wrong on every level. I’m so, so sorry that happened.
I know it’s not your problem….
It doesn’t stop me from being sorry.It doesn’t stop me from hating that bitch. It doesn’t stop me from wishing it hadn’t happened,he texts back.
But it didn’t just happen, did it?I reply.
No, Della. Just no. Don’t go there.
I don’t have to ask what he means.
It’s like he’s in the room with me, his intense eyes aimed at me.
Tears well in my eyes. I rub at my cheeks as they fall, but more replace them nearly instantly.
He sends another text as the tears fall. A bitter piece of me wonders if this is really Elias, the same man who leaned in with that captivating twist to his lips, his eyes taking hold of me or holding me in place. Pinning me there, as I screamed at myself to be ready for whatever he was going to do.
You can’t blame yourself. You were a child. I’ve known the sort of people your friend was. Not on that level, but they will twist your mind. They’ll make you start to define yourself by the way they see you. But it’s not true, Della.
I sit up, leaning against the wall, staring at the message as it blurs across the screen with my tears.
It’s like he’s just reached inside my mind and found the thing I needed to hear most, the hope I rarely let myself feel.
Thank you for sharing that with me,he goes on.I know it must’ve been hard.
I still can’t reply, staring at his words. I’m not sure how much time passes.
Hudson walks around next door, running the faucet as he does the dishes.
