After experiencing a life-altering tragedy, Emersyn feels as if her world has collapsed. Attempting to accept her new reality, Emersyn wonders how she can possibly keep going when it feels like her life ended months ago. Until she meets Haven, and s...
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Mom allows me to stay out of school for just over a week.
When she suggests I return, I do not argue. I know I cannot stay home forever, even if I don't feel quite ready to return to any semblance of what a "normal" life consists of. The thought of returning to school without Haven by my side makes me nauseous. However, I know Haven would not approve of letting my education slip by. If she were here, being the nerd she is, she would get on me for not staying on top of my assignments. She would make sure I collected schoolwork for her to complete as well, as God forbid she fall behind. I'm sure she'll chew me out for not doing so when she wakes up.
If she wakes up.
She has to wake up.
I am silent on the ride to school. Mom does not press me. Instead, she merely rests a hand atop my knee, offering the only semblance of comfort she knows how to.
Exiting the vehicle, I find myself searching the courtyard for Haven for a moment. My heart shatters when I realize I will not spot her sunshine head or meet her atmospheric gaze. Razor sharp pieces of pain stab into my chest, my throat, my lungs. I can't breathe, can't think, can't move.
I am fighting for air when I feel a hand fall onto my shoulder. Startled, I jump, whirling around to put a face to my assailant.
My blood boils at the sight of Brendan. I calm down at the sight of Brendan. I want to sob into his arms and slap him across the face all at once.
"Hey," he murmurs gently. "I wasn't sure if–"
"You knew," I spit the words before I can think better of doing so. My voice is thick like dark red blood. Venomous as a snake. "You knew, and you didn't–"
Brendan backtracks, stepping away from me as if he is actually frightened. He raises his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"You knew and you didn't say a thing!" I continue, my cries growing in pitch and volume. "Why didn't you–"
"I tried," Brendan interrupts, defending himself. He sounds tired and sorry and his expression matches the part. "When I ran into you at homecoming–I tried to tell you. I wanted to tell you. But I just . . . it wasn't my place, okay? I'm sorry. Haven's like my sister. I know. So if you want someone to take the pain out on, that's fine. I'll take it. Just know I'm sorry."
The anger surging within me dissolves. I feel myself deflate, like a balloon slowly leaking air and turning into a pitiful pool of latex. The anger at the sight of Brendan had been the first real emotion I have felt besides immense misery in days. It had been so relieving to feel something–anything–I almost want to hold onto it.
But I can't. Because he is right. It was not his place to share Haven's personal business. I cannot blame him for his innocence.
"It's just not fair," I mutter weakly. I keep my gaze downcast, trained on my feet. "She's so young . . . and such a good person. I just don't understand. Why her? Why at all? And why didn't she . . ." I trail off before I can finish my sentence.
