Secret Lucidity(84)

And even though he begged me to try not to hurt myself, I’ve managed to etch nearly every thought of him into my skin with boldness. And when I think about how disappointed he’d be if he knew, guilt takes over, and I cut even more.

There were a couple times I held the razor to my wrist instead of my stomach. Wicked thoughts fed my mind with all the beauty death would offer me. The idea that there was a place where pain didn’t exist had me begging for God to take my life from me, because why would I want to live when living hurts this much? But each time I contemplated killing myself, I grew terrified of the horror in my head, and I chickened out, keeping my veins intact.

The heartbreak is tremendous.

I can barely stomach food at this point. I don’t know how much weight I’ve lost, but it’s enough that my clothes now hang on me. His sweatshirt, which was always big on my slight frame, now swallows me. I’ve worn it so much that I’ve replaced his scent with my own. The day I couldn’t smell him in the fibers anymore, I cried so hard it felt like blisters were bursting in my throat. All I can remember from that day is the searing pain of losing another piece of him.

It’s been four weeks since the media broke the story. A solid month has gone by, and I’m no better, but I am a year older.

I’m eighteen today.

No one’s even mentioned it though, not even my mother. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve become invisible.

But then the unexpected happens.

The doorbell rings, and I find Linze on my front porch with a single cupcake in her hand.

“Better your ass than mine,” she says in a solemn tone, and I give her a weak smile.

Time has done nothing to heal our fractured relationship, but silently she’s been there. Whether it’s shutting people down at school when she hears them talking about me, or walking next to me in the halls, she offers support.

“You want to come in?”

She nods and follows me upstairs to my room.

“Feels like forever since I’ve been in here.”

She’s right. It does.

We used to spend countless hours together in my room doing typical teenage things. So much time spent talking about boys, watching movies, and painting our nails. I remember telling her about the first time Kroy kissed me when our friendship finally crossed the line into something more.

It’s scary to think about how different everything is now—how different I am when she still seems the exact same.

I set the cupcake down on my dresser and my stomach pangs when I lick a blot of frosting from my thumb.

The silence is uncomfortable between us as we sit on my bed, but eventually, she’s the first to speak.

“I’m scared I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

“I’m just me, Linz.”

Her eyes well up. “You’re not.”

Even though she’s a spitfire, she’s always been sensitive, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when her tears fall.

“We used to be best friends,” she says thickly. “I’ve been so worried about you. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to call.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t.”

I can’t remember the last time someone has willingly wanted to talk to me, the last time I’ve had any human touch. I’ve been so incredibly lonely that it’s been eating a hole in me that I’m so desperate to fill. I need support, I just need someone who cares about me, and to have Linze show up here tonight, to remember my birthday when the rest of the world has forgotten, makes me needier than ever for affection.

“I’m so alone,” I whimper. “I feel like I’ve lost everything.”

“You haven’t lost me. I know I was a bitch before, and I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”

She folds her arms around my neck and we hug. Her single touch makes me crave more, and I feel myself breaking down, weakening in her embrace, and my heart can’t take the weight of this secret any longer. I know I made a promise, but every day since, I’ve been dying a slow and painful death.

No matter the distance this year has put between Linze and me, she’s my friend, and I know she would never do anything to betray me. So, for the first time, I finally say it aloud. “I fell in love with him.”

To hear the words, to put them out here in the universe where they were always meant to be, is so bittersweet. She continues to hug me as both of us cry for broken hearts and lost time.

“So it’s true?” she asks when she pulls back and wipes her cheeks.

“No. It’s nothing like what people are saying. We just . . . we fell in love.”

She falls victim to a new slew of tears when she says, “I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I feel so helpless. He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“Did you . . . did you sleep with him?”

I look into the eyes of my friend who has always known me for the girl who makes all the right choices, the girl who always did right by her father, and I burst into tears. My head drops onto her lap, and she rubs my back.

“I’m so sorry, Cam.”

She stays with me, comforting me, and when the tears subside, she stays even longer. I don’t mention another word to her about David, and she doesn’t ask. Instead, she’s able to take my mind off everything by telling me about how serious she and Kyle have gotten, about her college plans, and about the new car she hopes to get for graduation. I can’t thank her enough for giving me a normal conversation.