Bentley never talked about anything personal. But how could I have been so self-involved that Jordan's loss or Bentley's never occurred to me, not even the other night when Jordan made me say it out loud. My parents are dead. His mom is dead.
I didn't even know Bentley had a daughter. Jordan's sister.
How did they even stand up? How did they keep going? I wanted to ask a million questions and at the same time, most of my mind was so occupied with my own loss, I couldn't even begin to feel someone else's.
January 31
Jordan and Coach Bentley,
I'm so, so sorry for what happened to your family. I hope that I can find the courage to tell you in person, even if it doesn't really help.
—Karen
***
I couldn't make direct eye contact with Coach Bentley all during evening practice. Every time I looked in his direction, the newly acquired information returned to my thoughts and shook me from the inside out. How could Coach Bentley be hiding so much under all those unreadable expressions he wore?
"How are you feeling?" Blair asked me, while in line for vault.
"Fine, I guess."
She laughed under her breath. "Who knew periods could carry superpowers. If it's true, then I want mine right now. What can I do to make this happen?"
I shook my head at her, not able to help the smile now forming on my face. "Move in with two guys and ask yourself what could be the most humiliating situation imaginable—then you'll get your wish."
"Sorry," Blair said. "That must have been awful. I think I'd still be in my room hiding...God...So did Bentley have to drive you to the store or something? I can't even imagine."
"Something like that." And yeah, I had left out Jordan's part in the last few days, because Blair was slightly more interested in boys than I was and she'd exhaust me, asking for details. Plus, it seemed wrong to tell her about Jordan without him knowing. Maybe he didn't want people to know about him going tampon shopping. It wasn't only my secret to tell.
[IF YOU LIKED THIS STORY PLEASE VOTE!]
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)
Teen FictionI've gotten used to the dead parents face. I've gotten used to living with my gymnastics coach. I've even adjusted to sharing a bathroom with his way-too-hot son. Dealing with boys is not something that's made it onto my list of experiences as of ye...
