What Crawls Below

15 § These Lonesome Bones

Mary allowed her niece to spend the entirety of the weekend hiding under her covers but come Monday, she put her foot down.

"You're not wasting the privilege of an education over some boy," Mary insisted, pulling the sheets away that morning and forcing Tuesday to get out of bed. To prolong the coming school day as long as possible and also avoid an inevitable internal monologue, Tuesday checked her phone for the first time in days to see half a dozen notifications from Jordan and even a handful from her other friends. Each one grew increasingly concerned in tone as more time passed without a response.

Tuesday sighed and stowed the phone out of sight again. She'd see them at school, and then they'd see she was okay--well, alive--and hopefully stop worrying. Of course it wasn't that simple. At lunch Jordan tracked her down in the library where Tuesday had hidden behind the stacks, nose buried deep in a book she wasn't truly reading. Each time she finished scanning a page, she couldn't remember what she'd just read and would have to start again.

Staying silent at first, Jordan settled in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite from her. Tuesday didn't look up, focusing so hard on the page in front of her that the lines began to blur. She blinked and realized tears had started prick at her eyes; she rubbed at them hard enough to make her face sore.

"If you don't wanna talk, that's cool," Jordan finally said. "But at least tell me I don't need to worry about you."

Tuesday forced herself to meet her eyes but immediately had to look away again, wilting under the intensity in the other girl's stare.

"It's okay to be sad, but...if you're sad enough to do something stupid, please be real with me here."

Tuesday looked up again, not expecting the conversation to veer in that direction. She opened and shut her mouth, debating on a response before finally saying, "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

"I'm just disappointed, I guess," Tuesday said softly, setting the book aside and wrapping her arms around herself. "You think you know somebody...No, that isn't right. I've always known what he is but I also thought he could be more than that."

"You mean that friend of yours," Jordan clarified just above a whisper. Tuesday nodded, counting the lines in the wooden table just to be a little less aware of the hole expanding in her chest.

Every time she let Cyrus in, he blasted her apart.

And now here she was, blabbing about her stupid problems to someone who didn't even know the full extent of the story, the sins she herself was guilty of. Face heating up, Tuesday pushed back from the table and slowly walked out of the library, Jordan in tow.

"Some people just don't get it," Jordan was saying. "They genuinely don't see when they're fucking up, but that isn't on you."

A part of Tuesday was beyond grateful for her support, but a bigger part of her just wanted to be alone. Whatever the other girl said next, she didn't really hear it, and then the bell rang and forced them to part. The rest of the day was a blur, nothing significant enough to crack the careful shield Tuesday had raised between her and the world.

The next day when she didn't get up in the morning, Mary let her stay in bed for a few extra hours. Then, in pajamas and eyes bloodshot--she'd normally be fast asleep by now--Mary came in and perched on the end of Tuesday's bed.

"Damn them," Mary muttered. "That boy's energy was just too much, I never should have let him back in."

Tuesday mumbled into her pillow, "That's not the problem."

After a pause, Mary responded with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "I know. Wouldn't it be so much easier if it were, though?" She patted Tuesday's back and added, "Burying yourself in these emotions will do you no favors. You need to be surrounded by good energy and things that are familiar--it's time to go to school."