The Girl He Used to Know(56)
He slipped under the covers. “I know it won’t be easy to get caught up, but you can do it. You can graduate and you can still come to New York on time.”
Jonathan had big plans, and goals he’d been working toward since high school. I wasn’t so clueless and out of touch that I couldn’t see how my involvement in his life might negatively affect those things. Even if I managed to catch up with my schoolwork and graduate on time, I would only be a hindrance to him and would never be able to pull my weight in New York. And if I was being honest with myself, it seemed overwhelmingly exhausting to even consider it. I would need way more time to recover from not only the physical effects of what had happened, but also the emotional.
I simply did not have anything left to give, even to Jonathan, whom I’d finally realized I loved much more than I would ever love Mr. Bojangles.
* * *
The veil of depression that descended upon me was heavy, dark black, and suffocating. I did not leave my bedroom other than to attend my follow-up medical appointments, and only then because my mother threatened to have my dad physically place me in the car. The hospital had sent us home with a bottle of pain pills and I’d watched my mother put them in the cupboard when I said I could manage my pain without them. I could go into the bathroom and open that cupboard and swallow all of them. A sleep that would top all the others. Permanent. I spent two whole days thinking about it. Turning it over in my mind. It would be so easy! It probably wouldn’t even hurt.
I had gone so far as to get out from under the covers to walk to the bathroom when my dad came into my room to check on me. He was never one to talk, and that day he didn’t say anything at all. But he pulled my desk chair over to the side of the bed and reached for my hand, holding it loosely in his smooth, dry palm as the tears slid down my cheeks.
He stayed all day.
I never told anyone that my dad was the one who kept me tethered to this life, but I did tell my mom she should dispose of the pills because I didn’t need them anymore.
Jonathan finally confronted me when it was clear I’d done none of the things I said I would do. “I know you’re still recovering, but there’s no way you can catch up when you haven’t even started.” I didn’t respond. “Annika, I need you to talk to me.”
“I want you to go to New York and start your job. I’ll go back to school next fall and when I graduate in December, I promise I’ll join you then.”
He looked as defeated as I’d ever seen him look. “I want to believe you,” he said.
So on a beautiful Saturday in May, Jonathan received his degree. The next day, he boarded a plane to New York to crash on a friend’s couch while he started his new job and looked for a place for us to live. No one read my name aloud on graduation day. I would have to repeat the semester in order to complete my undergraduate education. Janice told me later that she spoke with Jonathan after the ceremony. “I invited him and his mom to come to dinner with my family, but he politely declined.”
“How did he look?” I asked.
“Not as happy as he should have.”
* * *
May turned to June, and then July. I might have decided to live, but my mom grew frustrated with me because I was still sleeping way too much. “You cannot lie in this bed and let life pass you by,” she shouted.
“What, this life?” I shouted back, gesturing toward the four walls. “A life inside this room is the only life I’m equipped for.” I pointed toward the door, the windows. “I hate everything out there. Everything out there sucks! You know why? Because you never told me what to expect. You never helped me develop any coping skills. You just … you let me stay in this house playing school, isolated from everything, and then you sent me off to college, completely unprepared. Janice is the only one who ever taught me anything about real life.”
And Jonathan, a small voice said inside my head.
“I had no choice. I couldn’t let you stay at that school, let those bitches torment you or hurt you again. Seventh grade!” she cried. “How can children be that cruel at such a young age? I had to take you out, keep you here with me where I knew you’d be safe.” My mom had never spoken to me using such language before, and she was wrong because the girls were worse than bitches. They were evil.
She sat down on the edge of my bed. “Your dad told me of the bullying and abuse he’d suffered as a child, and how no one did anything about it because boys were strong and they were expected to tough it out. I swore I would never let that happen to you. Someday when you have children of your own, you will understand.”
“If I can even have them,” I said.
“You’ve still got one tube. You will have them if you want them.” She wiped the corner of her eye. “I started preparing you for life outside these four walls from the day you were born. I did what I thought was right, and I did it until I couldn’t do it anymore because there was no more. You were ready and the only way to help you was to send you out into the world. Do you think I wasn’t scared? Do you think I wanted to put your welfare in the hands of an eighteen-year-old girl? Someone who was essentially a stranger to us both?”
I had no idea what my mom was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“I called Janice’s mother the day after we received your roommate assignment from the university. My hand was shaking as I held the phone because I didn’t know how she’d respond to what I was about to ask her for. I just wanted another set of eyes on you. It was a lot to ask of Janice and I wanted to make sure her mother didn’t mind. She agreed and so did Janice. I called your dorm room after you asked us to come get you that day three weeks into your freshman year, when you wanted to give up. Thankfully Janice answered the phone.”