Sometimes, the Universe Doesn't Screw Up.

Chapter Three

 

She blinked at him, alarmed. “Of—“ she stops herself.

Of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?

But was she really? Was she really happy with her life? Could she be truly happy with all the things she had done? “If you’re really happy, why would you be here, all alone in a bathroom when you could be celebrating with your friends?” She looked back down again. “Sometimes, the happiness you feel isn’t… complete.” She looked at him through her fringe, her hair like thin, hazel-coloured needles.

She knew it was a risk, asking the question. She would show her vulnerable side, and her mother would scold her. They prey on the weak and helpless. The minute you show them your vulnerability, you’re dead. But she couldn’t help it.

“Do you feel like that, or am I the only one?”

He looked at her, his eyes sad. “You’d be surprised how many there are.”

“You didn’t answer what I asked.”

He smiled at her, and it filled the room with an orange glow of warmth. “Well right now, I’m pretty happy.”

She tried not to smile at what he said. “Still not answering the question.”

Jem took a deep breath, thinking of how to answer her question. “Well, I can’t really think straight right now, ‘cause… you know,” he held up the red plastic cup. She raised her eyebrows, nodding slightly. “I can’t remember a certain time where I felt that way, but I know I have. Everyone has. He smiled, as if he was reminiscing the good memories of his life. She wondered of he was thinking about the fun times they had together. “You aren’t alone, Val.” Hearing him say her name like her mother used to, rolling his tongue on the ‘l’, made the bathroom feel a little less cold.

 “When was the last time you felt that way?” he asked. She looked at him for a moment, and gave miniscule shake of her head. “Now,” she said, and immediately regretted her answer. “Really? Why?” the curiousness in his voice was starting to annoy her. Maybe it was just the drink. She doubted that, as he was the same when they were kids. “It’s a long story,” she said flatly. There was a short pause. She could hear his deep breaths; soft and calming like a lullaby.

“Tell me about it, then.”

She looked up at him again, her eyes looking into his. She wasn’t sure what she was searching for in those brown pools, which depths were unknown. There was a time when she could trust him to keep all her little secrets in a little cardboard box in the back of his mind, and he her. She could trust him.

Could, a voice said, not can.

She didn’t realise she had said that out loud. His mouth twitched upwards. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, you know,” he said, and stood up slowly. “No, it’s not that I don’t want to,” she started. She didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, at least. “It’s alright, Valerie. I understand.” His smiled looked a little sad. How? “What?” he said. She had spoken aloud again. “I mean, how… how would you know?” she was searching for that thing in his eyes again, swimming down, digging deeper and deeper, until she could find what she was looking for.

“I know you, Val. I know how people at school see you—perfect and beautiful. But I know you better than them. Don’t you remember? Or are you trying to forget?” She couldn’t look away now.  “I know how, sometimes, people see you like you are—cold and icy and distant from the world, as if you’re creating a better one in your head.” She felt the weight on her shoulders return, and her breathing became quick, her heart fluttering in her chest. “I knew why you did that, and I was happy that you didn’t push me away, like you did with everyone else. It wasn’t that bad when we did stop being friends. It was sad, yes, but I understood why you did what you did. That wasn’t the worst part.”

She wasn’t sure if she had found the little boy she knew and loved, or she was seeing herself in his eyes, scared and at the point of breaking.

“It was the fact that I knew. I knew it was coming. I knew that one day, there would be an invisible wall between us, separating us. I could tell the when the wall was there. It was paper-thin then, but as we grew apart, it became a great brick wall. Neither of us would have ever known if the other was calling, crying, screaming for the them.” He was looking right at her, his voice never faltering, as if he was trying to tell her that he had been the one calling for her, all this time. The back of her eyes stung with tears, but she held them back, trying to mend the cracks in the wall he had put there as soon as she had seen him.

“You wouldn’t have known, Val. You wouldn’t know if the people that loved you were calling for you, like the stars your mother told you about.”

Crack.

“You’ll never be happy if you keep pushing people away, Valerie. I know.”

Crack.

“To have that little ray of happiness, you’re always going to have to give up something. You’re always going to have to build another wall. You’re always going to lose someone else.”

Crack.

She remained silent, her breathing now slowly and heavy. Her face was wet, her cheeks felt warm with tears. She felt the weight in her heart grow heavier, pulling her down, into the bathtub drain, down the sewers, down, down, down, until she was consumed by the weight of the world above her.

Crack.

 The weight finally gave way, and it crashed down on her. “You don’t know,” she shook her head, her voice shaking. She took a deep, shaky breath and tried again. “You don’t know how terrible it is. To feel how easy it is to just leave behind something you once cared about. You don’t know how it feels like to know what people think of you for it.” Her voice was now a mere whisper.

“It makes you feel… it makes you feel like a monster.”

The weight was lifting off her shoulders. She let her shoulders drop from their tenseness; she hadn’t realized how long it has been since she last let out all the feelings inside her, to open up and let them out.

She hadn’t told him anything about her. Yet, already, she felt like she was telling him too much, revealing not only the little girl inside, but also her deepest, darkest fears, whispering her secrets until it drove her mad and there was nothing left. She should stop. She should definitely stop. But he was her best friend. She had once called him her other half. She could trust him. Why couldn’t she?

He was silent the entire time, listening to her. He was still standing at the edge of the bathtub. Then he moved to sit in the bathtub as she was doing, facing her, smiling softly. When he reached to wipe the tears from her cheeks, she didn’t back away. She looks at him, her eyes questioning. His thumb traced her under eyes, tickling her lashes, which were splayed out, wet from her tears. “Val,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m here, its okay. Everything will be alright.”

The tears didn’t stop. They were silently falling, only to be wiped away by his gentle hand. He was constantly whispering to her, telling her it was okay, that he was here now, and everything would be better. Never once, did she take her eyes off of his. She was saying something to him, too, but she couldn’t hear them. And when she did, she said them more, her heart poured out into them, the words tumbling over each other.

I’m sorry.