Seventeen days after your funeral.
I told Penny next.
I found her outside the counseling room when I came out and limped my way to her. Her brows furrowed in concern, her lips thinned. When she brought out a handkerchief, I almost laughed because I used to do that for you, Sam and wasn't that just funny?
Penny scowled at me. “None of this is funny.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know.” I winced in pain when she wiped the blood at corner of my lips again. At the rate I was going at the time, I would be surprised if you could still recognize my face. “I'm sorry.”
“You should have reported those assholes!”
“Not necessary.”
“Roo!”
“They're not important. Listen, I've got to tell you something.”
I explained to her what I wanted to do and why the way I did to Dr. Quintana. At some point she stopped on her track and it took me a second to notice she wasn't walking right beside me anymore. I gulped down my nerves and asked her, “Is it—is it a bad idea?”
She squeezed my forearm. Her voice was rough when she said, “No. No, Roo, that's a wonderful idea. Mental health awareness and sanctuary for kids in abusive household. That's—” She blinked back her tears. “Just promise me one thing. That you're doing this for yourself first.”
“Of course, I do. It's what I want.”
“I know what you're doing. You're not healed yet, Roo. You can't just ignore and abandon your own condition. Do you think I didn't notice? You need to focus on your health first before you start on someone else—”
“And what?” I bristled, pulling my arm away from her. I was shaking with my rage and I knew I shouldn't even have had it for Penny. “The more I sit around doing nothing, more kids in the world die in the hands of their family or friends or spouses.”
“But you're not sitting around doing nothing!” Her voice rose, echoing throughout the school hallway. Some pair of eyes glanced our way. “You're healing!”
“It's under control. I'm handling it.”
“Not good enough!”
“God, Penny, what the fuck do you want from me?” My anger boiled, spoiling over the rim of my bowl and I didn't know how to stop it. From outside my body I watched myself, how I looked so much like you, lashing out because I was hurting, but I couldn't stop the words. “I'm fucking sorry my boyfriend and best friend died shooting himself because he couldn't stand his life and he didn't love me enough to stay! I'm fucking sorry that I'm not handling it well because most of the time I'm thinking, Why didn't he take me with him? I'm fucking sorry that everything is fucked up because I don't know who I'd be without him! What more do you want?”
“Roo.” And I stopped, watching the way tears rolled down her cheeks like they would never stop. She wasn't looking at me anymore. Her hands swiping her face like they could hide her from me. She said, “I just want you to be okay again.”
When she walked away, I was left on my own with the ghosts of what could have been.
YOU ARE READING
Wearing My Smile | ✔
Teen Fiction"I wondered if you'd ever thought that the name your parents had given you felt like sharp knife twisting through your heart in its prayer. I'd never asked you that before, now I'd never get to." Having been together since forever, Roo struggles in...
