The next weeks I spent hiding from Shay. I ignored him like a plague, and then, one day, it all changed.
One night, I was home alone, since my mother was at radiation, when I heard a knock on the door. I look through my peephole, only to see a blue eye staring back at me. “Holy mother of lard!” I shriek in surprise. I hear Shay’s unmistakable laugh from the other side of the door, and I tell the laughing moron, “Shut up. You scared me.”
Shay continues laughing, and it seems like he wont stop. “Can you let me in?” he asks between gasps.
“And why would I do that?” I peep through the peephole, this time seeing his entire smiling face. How could I resist?
“Because you love me?”
“Actually, I hate you,” I smirk, turning the lock and opening the door.
“Love you too!” he cries, tackling me into my couch. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“That was the plan,” I mumble under my breath.
“Well too bad, ‘cause I’m here now! And you aren’t getting rid of me.”
“Darn it.”
“And now you’re going to tell me everything.”
“Um no I’m not,” I stifle a laugh, “You think I’d tell anyone?”
“Love, look. It’s better to get it out into the open. Stuffing these things down has negative long term effects and could result in depression or suicidal thoughts or actions and it’s just bad,” he attempts to prove his case.
“Did you get that off a commercial?”
“Maybe…”
“Whatever. I’m not admitting anything.”
“Please?” he pleads.
“Why do you even care?” I inquire.
“I want to help you. If I do anything in this life, I want it to be helping someone. I can see through your act. I know deep down you need my help.”
“But stuffing it down is so much easier…”
“Is it really? If you have someone to talk to, just use them. Let me be your vent. I want to help you in the long run.”
“Well, you don’t know my story. It’s some deep stuff,” I explain, trying to convince Shay to leave me alone.
“Come on. I’m here for you,” he requests, convincing me.
“Fine. But this better help,” I finally giving up. I had to trust Shay. I mean he was the only one who actually seemed to care, and if anyone could help it would be him.
“Well, I’m waiting,” he replies impatiently.
“Promise me you won’t go and judge me.”
“Promise,” he says, intertwining my pinky with his.
“Well, when I was seven, my dad died. He was in the army and was shot and killed by the enemy. I never really knew him because he didn’t spend much time at home. He was nearly always overseas. I never had that father figure to look up to.
“But it doesn’t stop there. In fifth grade, I was best friends with Britany Hassler. We were inseparable; the definition of best friends. The past few years, I had been bullied. It was pretty bad, but I always had Britany to lean on. Then one day, she changed. She just left me. She began bullying me. Not only was she a supporter of the bullying, but she was the head bully. The person who I thought was my best friend was the one calling me ugly, stupid, fat, and worthless.
“Britany bullies me to this day, and I still don’t know why. I wish I did, but even if I did, I couldn’t trust her ever again. Things will never be the same. Because of her, basically everyone I come into contact with treats me the same. No one gives me a chance. Nobody cares about me. I can’t trust anyone anymore.
“And now, my mom has stage four stomach cancer. The person I’ve always had to rely on when I had no one else, is on the verge of death.
“To people who don’t dig deeper, I’m happy. I smile and laugh, and I don’t have many troubles. To them I’m fine. But if anyone cared enough to look beneath the surface, they would know I’m anything but okay. I’ll never be okay, and I can’t hold it in much longer. My smile is wearing out. I’m never good enough; all I want is a chance. I need someone to look past my façade.”
Tears begin to escape my eyes and pour down my cheeks. I feel a comforting arm pull me into a hug, and I allow it, letting out years of emotions. I cry until my throat is raw and sore. And my face is covered in tears.
I remove my face from the crevasse in Shay’s shoulder. I see that I’ve left traces of mascara, foundation, and other various cosmetics on his shirt, and I sniffle, “Sorry.”
“Rouge, don’t be. Your past is a sad one, but after all, the struggle is part of the story.” Shay preaches, making me feel better.
I glance at the clock, and mutter, “Crap. You have to leave, Shay. My mom is coming home soon.”
“Okay. If you need anything, I’m here. See you tomorrow, Moon.”
“See you. And by the way, I’m not hidden anymore, so you can stop calling me that,” I wink. Little did he know, I was still hiding. No one would ever know everything.
