"I noticed you have a lot of scratches and bruises," the nice lady said, after taking Linda aside.
She felt her cheeks heating up. No one had ever taken her aside and asked about her banged up arms— not even Danny or her Nonna! Her brain malfunctioned and short circuited, and she barely heard the next words of the conversation.
"I just wanted to make sure everything's okay with you. Do you need any help?" Her smile was kind and worried, and almost expectant. It was as if she could see Linda's brain searching for a lie.
"Uh... no. No, everything's fine. See, um, I scratch, and then I can't leave it alone. I'm okay." She sort of lied- it was true, she couldn't leave scrapes and scratches alone on her body. But most of the scrapes and scratches she put there, whether from her razor or from scratching an itch for too long and too hard.
"We can offer you any help you may need."
"I'm fine, really I am. But thank you for checking." She bid the nice lady with the pink glasses goodbye, then walked out to find Danny.
"Hey," he held his hand out to her as she got closer. He gripped it firmly, "did it go okay?"
"Yeah, I think so." They started to walk hand in hand.
"You sound like you want to say more."
"A professor- or staff person- just asked me if I was okay, because of all my scratches and bruises. Which are actually scars."
Danny stopped and looked at her, "what did you say?"
"I said I was okay. That I just scratch."
"Are you? Okay?"
She nodded, "It's just... no one has ever asked me that before. They assume— I don't know what they assume, but it certainly can't be self harming. Otherwise they'd ask, right?"
"Unless they thought that asking was encroaching on personal business and privacy."
She shook her head, "whatever. It's over now, and she didn't hand me any sort of pamphlets or anything. And she's probably trained to see that sorta thing, y'know? It does look worse than it is."
"Sure," he agreed, solely because he didn't want to argue. He slung his arm around her shoulder and walked her to his car. Still, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut.
********
"Truth be told, I was surprised you asked me to lunch in the first place," Brie started, picking up three fries. "I mean, I thought you thought I was some sorta hippie weirdo who you never want to be around."
"Well, you are a hippie, and you're most definitely a weirdo, but I wouldn't say I never want to be around you."
"So this is just Linda's best friend and fiancé having lunch together? Wanky."
Danny ignored her comment, "I need to know if Linda is okay."
"Whey don't you just ask Linda?"
"Because I think she's lying to me."
"Why would she do that?"
"She doesn't like me worrying."
"So what's got you worried?"
"Yesterday, someone on the staff at the college pointed out all the scars and scrapes on her arms. They asked if she was okay, and she said yes. When she told me about it, and I asked her if she truly was okay-"
"She said yes, but you didn't believe her. Still don't believe her."
He shook his head, "you're her roommate, you share everything under the Sun. Has she said anything? Seemed off?"
She shook her head, eating more French fries. "She was stressed about midterms, but she doesn't cut herself while stressed. She'll cut her hair, but not her skin."
"But nothing other than that?"
She shook her head, "this has been a busy week, you know. With midterms and group projects all due this week, we've barely had time to do regular stuff like eat together."
"She didn't mention anything?"
"No. I just said that. All she's had to say is complaints about the tests, and how she can't wait to marry you next year."
A smile spread over his face at that. He couldn't wait to marry her either. "Could you just check up on her later tonight?"
"Or you could. Stay over. You're practically living with us anyways."
"I told you, she won't tell me-"
"That doesn't sound like a very healthy start to a marriage."
"Would you shut up? You want her safe too, don't you?"
"Of course I do. And I will talk to her. I promise."
********
"Knock knock," Brie rapped her knuckles on the doorframe to Linda's bedroom.
"Hey, what's up?" She watched as her friend sat opposite her on the bed.
Brie studied Linda for a little bit; she didn't look any different. Maybe a little more tired, but she didn't have that haunting look in her eyes.
"What?" Linda asked again, a little bite to her voice this time.
Brie decided to come straight out with it, "are you cutting yourself again?"
She was surprised to hear that, "N-no."
"You're lying."
"I am not!"
"You bit your lip, looked down, and moved your ring. Three tell tale signs that you're lying to me. Why are you cutting yourself?"
"I'm not cutting myself! I'm just... scratching."
Brie raised an eyebrow, "meaning?"
"I had an itch on my arm, and I scratched until my skin was raw. Then the next day I scratched again. And the day after. And the day after that." She felt like scratching at the scabs right now, but she forced her hands to stay in her lap. "So now it's big and gross and ugly, and I can't leave it alone. But it's not from... that."
"That's mental."
"I know. I have a... problem. I want to stop. But if I see it, and I can reach it, I'm gonna scratch. That's why I'm always wearing light colors- so I'm forced not to scratch."
"Because of the blood stains."
"Exactly.... How did you even know?"
"Danny had lunch with me today. He's worried about you."
"Well I'm fine."
Brie looked skeptical.
"I am! I promise!"
She really didn't believe that, but she decided not to press the issue. Linda was already upset, she didn't need anything to fuel the fire. "Okay. Well.. if you ever need to talk, I'll always be available."
"Thank you, Brie. But I'm okay."
