Saving Kate

2. Episode

I lie in bed, thinking about what happened today, what Leanne said. How can I be in love with Max? We're barely even acquaintances, I mean I worked with him in a group project before as a sophomore in AP U.S history once, but that's it.

Once more before going to bed, I look at the homework Max gave me on a wrinkled, plain white index card and re-read it again. In blue pen, Max had written, "Textbook pages 350-365 response questions 1-25, due tomorrow." I clutch it in my hand, as if the card were sentimental, trying to think how Max could actually like me. Why would he waste his time on me when he had Whitney literally not even two months ago.

I put the card face down on the bedside table so I can at least try to sleep without driving myself crazy over this. I climb under the the maroon sheets and reach over to turn my lamp off, but my eyes linger on the card. Max wrote something on the other side.

"Kate, 914-550-1210. In case you want to talk."

Immediately I reach over and grab my phone, but when I type Max's phone number into a new text message, I stop. What am I doing? What am I even going to say that's worth reading?

Taking a deep breath, I type, "Hi Max, it's Kate." But all I can do is stare at it. Instead, I call Leanne.

"What Kate?" Leanne answers afer the third ring.

"Hey Lea- Max left his phone number on the back of the physics homework," I say.

The other end of the line is silent for longer than I'd like, but she says, "What else did he write? And why do you sound so skeptical?"

"He wrote, 'In case you want to talk.' What does that mean? Should I text him, or would it be better to call? I don't even know if he'd still be awake now, it's like... 11:00." There's no hiding my fear towards any contact to Max. I can literally feel my heart rate pick up and my hands shake just thinking about him.

"Want me to ask Dylan to text him and see if he's still up?" Leanne asks.

"Yes! Could you do that?"

"Sure, Kate I'm gonna hang up then text you, ok?

"Ok, thanks! Bye," and I hang up the phone.

I wait for Leanne to text me, but she doesn't. The minutes tick by, and I sit in silence staring at the screen of my phone. The screen dims, letting me know that it's going to turn off and I take a deep breath and lock it before it can lock automatically. Tossing my phone on the bedside table, it clatters on the wood surface and I throw myself onto the pillows.

I flip over onto my side and stare at the table where my phone sits. What if Dylan told Leanne bad news about Max? What if he doesn't want to talk to me, or what if he changed his mind and doesn't want to talk to me anymore? What if he decided to go to Lacrosse Opening with Whitney instead? God, there are so many what if's! My eyes begin to burn, like I'm going to cry, but I try to force everything out of my mind. Thinking about Max is just going to drive me insane. It already has, and I get the feeling that I'm going to fall into bad habits again tonight.

God, why can't I get over this! It was just supposed to be a one time thing, an experiment that many months ago, when I was stupid and upset about my dad. I cut the same way he drinks, irresponsibly and uncontrollably. Now that I've started thinking about it, I have a strong disposition to cut again.

Wihtout even thinking about it, I reach for my drawer and pull out my scissors. They're my mom's old sewing scissors, so they're sharp. The best part is that she will never know they're gone or that I have them.

I always start slowly, dragging the blade across my skin. It doesn't hurt anymore, and when it does, I know that I don't have to cut any more, that I have reached the breaking point. But tonight, I have a feeling that it won't hurt no matter what I do. Blood starts to pool in the open cut, and I move one inch closer to my hand and cut again, and again, and again. Tears stream down my face and onto my bloody wrist, the saltiness makes the cuts burn, but I don't stop because it doesn't hurt.