Timeless

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

            Auburn was kinda pissed. And I understood why. All that anger and grief she felt when we lost Emily—when she lost Emily—was being reprised in her hostility towards me.

            “Why are you with her? What does she have to offer? Hunter I can’t even begin to—”

            “Auburn, listen. You’re not mad at me or Pixie. You miss Emily, you’re using Pixie as a repla—”

            “Shut up! Shut! Up! You don’t know anything, you can’t even begin to imagine what I think about or—or what I feel! You don’t know because you don’t live in constant fear of being rejected and hated not only by those you like and aren’t supposed to like, but by everyone else too! You don’t live in fear of society!” Auburn’s forehead was damp, her red-blue-black hair shielding her face. She pushed it all back, but still kept herself hidden, edging away towards the front door of Lucile Erwin Middle School. Her eyes were like the bottom of a lake or an abyss, abysmal. Her complexion was hard and acrimonious, I turned away. I’d convinced Mason to get me from school early, so I could wait to talk to Auburn.

            I waited a long time before responding, the January weather numbing my fingers. “I don’t have to be afraid of society like you do, Auburn.” I used her name, the name London does when she’s comforting somebody.

            The way Emily would speak before she died.

            A custodian walked past us and glared. “But I have my own fears, too. Do you know how many people accuse cutters of wanting attention? Attention.” I laughed without the happiness, and looked at the afternoon mountains. That’s one thing I’ve always loved about Colorado, our mountains. No other state has mountains like us. I kept me eyes trained West as I spoke.“Of all the things people think! Do they honestly think anyone who wanted attention would hurt themselves to get it, and, explain this, why would they hide it so long if they wanted attention immediately?”

            “That’s different! You chose to cut yourself! I didn’t have a choice in this!” Her words bubbled out into steam, making it hard to understand past the mist. “I couldn’t control this,” she blubbered, “No one really can, and we’re thrown into society...expected to just handle and deal with everyone that hates people like us. We have to hide ourselves—from our own parents, from our friends, from the teachers—because we don’t know who’ll judge us or not.” She sounded depressed, no longer angry, just a broken down car on the side of the road that finally ran out of fuel. “These people, Hunter...you think you know everything about us, but you don’t. Everyone we’re friends with, they don’t judge. They never will. They’re all broken in some way, and broken children find each other, and can be broken together.” She was wiping her tears away now, snot freezing on her sleeve as she tried to compose herself.

            Again, I surprised myself. So many surprises...

            I held Auburn tight in my embrace, my chin on her shoulder. She hugged me right back, her breath still uneven, but calmer. The reverberation of a storm, when the tides relax and sleep. It was a best-friends-type of hug, and I’ve seen it in middle school.

                Derry and James. Blyth and Brinn. Ilene and Sarah. Being an outcast has allowed me to look at others around school, and these people hug like I’m hugging Auburn right now every day. Probably not for the same reason, but it’s comforting and amicable. It makes us feel safe, like hiding under our blankets as kids.

            “Thank you,” Auburn finally whispered sincerely.

***

            I’d never paid much attention to Valentine’s Day. My parents weren’t real big Valentine people; they were more into Christmas and birthdays. Since I paid no attention to this holiday, I really paid no attention to what people did on Valentine’s Day. In middle school, there are girls walking around with gifts from their boyfriends and couples kissing and holding hands. Then there were the singles that either strutted around not giving a damn that they didn’t have someone to cling to or sulked and wished that they did have someone to cling to. I was caught somewhere in the middle. Pixie wasn’t clingy in public, but she made sure people knew I was taken, which is almost just as bad.