A Tragic Kind of Wonderful(25)
“Why ask now?” My tone is sharper than I intended.
She tips her head and smiles. “You were too upset last year.”
“You know what Annie was like. Everybody did.”
“Only from the outside. Seemed like she wanted to be queen but couldn’t attract subjects. I thought Izumi and Connor stayed friends with her because none of them could do any better. Kinda sad, really.”
“I guess it took me longer than most to figure her out,” I say. “Pretty much all of freshman year. I tried to let it slide, but … one day I couldn’t take any more and called her on her bullshit. She tried to … I don’t know, pull rank, I guess. When I didn’t take it back and fall in line, we were done.”
“Whatever her deal was, it must have worked fine for Izumi and Connor. They didn’t waste any time writing you off.”
I shake my head. “Zumi hounded me for weeks. I just … I couldn’t …”
The truth is, I was the one who stopped talking. It really hurt and confused her, I know, but I was in the middle of my bipolar onset, fighting for my crumbling sanity and to keep the whole battle a secret. I also wanted to protect her from what happened with Annie. My phone still holds the history of texts from Zumi that I never answered. I don’t read them anymore, but I can’t avoid seeing the dent she made on our front door trying to find me. Aunt Joan kept telling her I wasn’t home. It was true in a way.
“It was my fault,” I say. “And I’m pretty sure Annie told stories about me.”
“They still believed her instead of you.”
“Why wouldn’t they? They were friends long before I got here. And I didn’t tell them Annie was lying.”
It was clear from Zumi’s dwindling messages that Annie was telling her I was the one who’d been lying to her, that I didn’t care about her, that I never had, and me not answering was slowly convincing her. Months later, the first time we saw each other again at school, I ducked away. It probably seemed like confirmation of every lie Annie told.
“Anyway,” I say, “this all happened when I got sick and went months without talking to anyone.”
Holly’s eyebrows go up. “Anyone?”
“Except you.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “You know, when you and Declan brought me all my homework and saved me from flunking my classes and everything. I owe you big.”
“Yes, you do. Most of my friendships are based on debt.” Holly presses her temple against my head. “You know. Rescues.”
“I’m trying to pay you back in installments,” I say. “To make it last as long as possible.”
She laughs.
I leave my head on Holly’s shoulder and she lets me.
When I was missing so much school, Holly got assigned to bring me schoolwork, but she did so much more. She became my friend and kind of saved me from drowning entirely. I’m very grateful.
Part of me wishes I could tell Holly the truth. Mom and I covered up my absences saying I had mono and then bronchitis with a series of relapses. I wasn’t really sick, at least not in the way where you eventually get better or die. I just found out my brain was poorly designed. It won’t kill me, but I can’t get right again since I was never right in the first place. I was born with faulty parts. My brain just didn’t turn them on till I became a teenager, right around the time I blew up with Annie.
But I can’t let anyone know what really happened, or what’s wrong with me. I can’t bear the thought of how they’d look at me, and treat me, if they knew how many pills I take every morning just to act more or less like everybody else.
HAMSTER IS STUMBLING
HUMMINGBIRD IS PERCHED
HAMMERHEAD IS CRUISING
HANNIGANIMAL IS DOWN
In Chemistry on Tuesday, Zumi doesn’t move for the whole fifty-four minutes. At the end, when it’s time to collect homework, she doesn’t touch her backpack. Mr. Gottfried asks her about it and she ignores him. He tells her to stay after the bell rings. I wait outside but they take a long time and I finally leave for my next class.
At lunch I find Connor on the brick wall again. This time Zumi’s with him, sitting a few feet away. They’re staring off in different directions. I want to walk over, but no. I don’t think that would make her feel good. I just try to take it as a positive sign that at least she’s back to spending more time with Connor.
When I get to the Silver Sands after school, Dr. Jordan is talking to Judith at the reception desk. He stops when he notices me. I don’t know what he sees but he comes over.
“You want to talk about it?”
“I talk to you too much. You’re not my doctor.”
“I’m glad. If I were, I couldn’t do this.”
He pulls me in for a tight hug, his arms completely around me. I’m chilled from the ride over—too much coasting through cold air on a cloudy day without enough pedaling—and he’s warm from being inside. I hold on, wondering if I’ll melt if I stay this way long enough.
“I’m your friend. I’ll listen if you want to talk.”
“Maybe later. Just one of those days.”
After giving Ms. Arguello her orange juice, I take a deep breath and then breeze through the Beachfront Lounge, waving and smiling at everyone, pretending not to see Mr. Terrance Knight’s hopeful expression. I’ll give him a song today, just not yet.