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After my father left, and I was released back into my mother’s care, I broke down in school. We were in English class, reading Shakespeare, and through the silence, broke my guttural sob. I don’t know what brought it on or if I tried to fight it. I only remember my cheeks heating when blurry faces turned to look at me.
I started and couldn’t stop.
Embarrassment crept up my neck, my skin blotchy with shame. Garry ripped me from my seat, pressing my head to his shoulder before escorting me out of the class, through the halls, and home.
I didn’t go back for a week.
And when I did, everyone looked at me differently. Whispers followed me in the halls, a snigger echoing against the walls and assaulting my ears.
There were so many rumors that I eventually stopped defending myself.
“Did you hear what her dad did?”
“She’s a slut like her mother.”
“I heard her vomiting in the bathroom. Bet she’s puking up her food. Look how sick she looks.”
All lies, but people believe what they want to.
I tossed my long hair around my face, kept my head down, and ignored it because my aching heart was doing little to protect itself against the daggers.
But that day, in English class, somewhere between staring aimlessly at the pages, and faintly hearing the teacher’s voice drift in the air, I ruptured. My dams broke, and I flooded. I told myself my tears weren’t worth it. They weren’t worth the small payoff of temporary relief.
For a while, I rebelled. I ignored my real friends because I didn’t think I deserved their care. I died my hair, smoked too much weed, and drank too much at parties. I even lost my virginity in the back of Oliver Whitlock’s car, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, and praying for it to be over with so I could move on to my next wild adventure. My smiles dimmed, always a little forced, and my mind often wandered to places on its own, drifting off and dreaming, because at night, when I welcomed sleep, I only struggled with nightmares—always silent nightmares.
I didn’t wake until my screams brought me back, or Nick could hear me from his house, and he climbed through my window, shaking me until I came around.
My mother, having crawled so far into her own despair, never came to me. She allowed my roars to waft through the house and swallow me whole.
When I allowed my friends back in, they brought me back from the brink, tending to a wound they didn’t own without smothering me. But I didn’t shed a tear, even when breathing became less of a struggle or I started processing through everything that happened.
I didn’t cry when Nick had the accident, and I certainly didn’t cry when he was in the hospital. Everyone had a role. Garry was on sports duty, updating him on their team.
Mandy cared and loved more than anyone I’ve ever seen, draining herself in the process. I’m sure if love could keep someone alive, Nick would have lived forever.
Me…Well, I gave him hell because on the days he got angry when his legs didn’t work; he was too exhausted to stay awake, or he was getting sick of looking at four walls, he needed someone to argue with. I was his vent for anger. I took it, knowing every word was laced with affection.
On the inside, I felt like I was perishing with him, but I kept sympathy to a minimum.
Three times he told me he wouldn’t make it.
Three times I told him he was being dramatic.
The week before he died, I strolled into the hospital room, not noticing the wires attached to him anymore. Mandy was exhausted, as were his parents, so I was there to torture him. They warned me he was having an off day.
“Why you?” he moaned, throwing his head back when I strolled in, popping chips in my mouth.
“Ready for our hike?” I slouched in the chair, kicked off my shoes before I propped my legs up on the end of his bed, and poked him with my toes. “Oh shit, I forgot you can’t. The legs and all.”
He didn’t meet my eyes, staring straight at the doorway, but I could see the shadow of a grin threatening his lips. “I’m feeling lazy today. I think I’ll stay in bed.”
I shrugged, poking him again. “Walk it off.”
“You’re the fucking worst. Why have I been friends with you for this long?”
“Because you love me. Chip?”
Scowling, he plucked a handful from the bag.
