His buddy Chase, at the table behind us, throws a pencil at his head. “It’s been a year since the accident, you idiot.”
Sam looks over at me, his eyes big. “Really? A year already? Wow, time flies!”
Chase throws another pencil at him. “Ouch! What? Stop throwing your shit at me,” Sam grumbles, rubbing the back of his head.
My eyes pool with tears, but I refuse to let them fall in front of everyone. I turn away from Sam, letting my long hair cover most of my face, and start working on the test questions. It takes the entire period to finish because the words keep blurring and I can’t focus; my body trembling and tired. I’m the last one to hand it in to the teacher.
“I’m sorry you’re still having a hard time, Summer. I was hoping your grades would have improved by now.” Mr. Thompson watches me with a look of disappointment.
I drop my test on his desk and leave, saying nothing. Unbelievable. Why do people put a time limit on grieving? It’s been a year,not thirty. Why wouldn’t I still be having a hard time? Especially today.
Ducking into the girls’ bathroom, I lock myself in a stall as tears slide down my cheeks. Pushing my palms into my eyes, I try to slow the drip, feeling cold and flushed at the same time. I knew today would be awful. People are so insensitive. Today makes me wish I hadn’t skipped so many days already this school year.
I’ve found grief to be a strange thing. Constant and all-consuming for a while, then ebbing and flowing like the tides, but it never completely leaves. Life is too damn hard sometimes. As I’m trying to compose myself, the bathroom door opens.
“Did you see her eyes this morning? She’s been crying. It’s the one year anniversary today. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”
“It’s for attention. It’s been a year. Like Jessica said, it’s time to move on.”
“You’re so mean, Em.”
“What? It’s not like it’s Jake we’re talking about. Did you see the video of her flinching again? All Jessica did was touch her hoodie, and I heard she nearly fell out of her chair in biology when the teacher touched her shoulder. Who does that?”
“Everyone knows she doesn’t like to be touched by now. I wonder why she came to school today.”
“She had to, from what I heard. She’s missed too much time. If she misses much more, she’ll flunk out.”
Footsteps sound as they head back out into the hallway. I rub my chest as it aches again.Jake, I wish you were here to give me a hug right now.I take a few deep breaths, trying to stop more tears from falling. Why couldn’t the anniversary happen on Saturday instead of today, so I could suffer alone? Opening the stall, I walk over to the sink to splash some cold water on my face. I’m sure my eyes are red and puffy, but there’s nothing I can do about that.Onemoment ata time,I remind myself. All I need to concentrate on is that. One foot in front of the other. I can do this, for them.
I put my earbuds in and walk to history class. I don’t have any music playing because I’ve had no genuine interest in music since the accident, but it looks like I can’t hear anybody. It’s a coping skill I discovered one day last fall. If people like Jessica don’t believe you’re listening, they don’t bother you as much. Bullying is no fun if the victim doesn’t react.
History is uneventful, thankfully. Some whispers and stares, but not much else. We’re studying World War Two right now. The teacher lectures the entire period, so I mindlessly copy the notes from the screen. I put my earbuds in at the end of class again and leave after everyone, walking towards the library for lunch.
We’re technically not supposed to eat in the library, but Mrs. Sullivan doesn’t seem to mind when I do. Opening the library doors, I give the librarian a wave and head for the far corner to my favorite spot. It’s an old armchair with an ottoman. I sit down and grab my lunch. It’s a turkey club and a chocolate cupcake. Sue spoils me. She knows I love chocolate and likely made the cupcakes after I went to bed yesterday. I grab my phone while I eat and see there’s two messages waiting for me. A message from Jake’s dad telling me he’s thinking of me and to give Jake a hug for him. The other is from my therapist checking in. She knows today is awful for me. I text her back telling her I had a few breakdowns but I’m getting by. Words of encouragement come back telling me I’ll be okay. She reminds me of my breathing exercises and affirmations. She really is a great person and has always made herself available, day or night.
Before I know it the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I grab my garbage and backpack and head out. There are a few lovely comments from Jessica and friends calling me a murderer and slut during the afternoon, but no touching. Others share whispers about me flinching like it’s hilarious I have trauma, butI put my head down and try to tune them out. Usually, things like this don’t affect me much anymore, but today is different. I rush outside when the last bell rings for the day.
As I’m waiting for the bus after school, I get a text from Sue that she’ll pick me up at 4:30pm. The bus ride is loud and smelly, but I’m soon opening the door to the long-term care facility.
“Hi Summer, honey. I thought I would see you today.” Malerie gives me a big grin. Mal and I have become friends over the past year. She’s always here on days when I visit Jake. She’s an exceptional nurse and treats all her patients and their visitors like family.
“Hi Mal, how is he doing today?” I grab the clipboard and pen to sign in.
“He’s wonderful and handsome, as always. I gave him a clean shave this morning and styled his hair so he’d be extra cute for your visit,” Mal explains, standing up from her seat behind the desk. She’s wearing bright blue scrubs today with snowflakes on them. She’s got a matching bandana holding her curly hair back off her round, pretty face. As usual, her face is clean and fresh with no makeup on. Mal has a small addiction to buying scrubs; the more colorful the better.
I give her the best smile I can muster today, but I’m sure she can see the sadness in my eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you back to see him.” She heads down the main hallway to the left of her desk.
I quickly pursue. This facility is one of the best in the state. It’s expensive, but it doesn’t look or feel like a hospital. It's full of warm walls and brightness, thanks to all the windows and skylights. There are only 10 patients in this spacious, converted Victorian style home. Mal and Jenna, the night nurse, live in two apartmentson the second and third floors. The money Jake’s family received from the court settlement pays for his care. I’ve hardly touched my settlement money. I just…can’t.
Mal fills me in on what’s been happening since I was last here. “Now I told him the local news, but the hockey game is your thing to share. It’d break his heart to see how terrible his team is doing this year without him,” she shakes her head. “We also finished reading that vampire novel yesterday.”
Mal talks and reads to her patients all the time as if they're awake. She has a powerful belief that patients are aware, so keeping them updated is vital. “You know he would complain about your choice of reading material. He hates paranormal stuff.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I love me some vampires. I thought I’d start with a shifter romance next,” she winks.
We stop at the last room on the right. “You know the drill; press the button if you need me Sugar. I left you a snack and water on the side table.”
