“I don’t think she was doing the recommended exercises,” he says. “And the surgeon told her she needed to get up and walk at least every hour, which she admitted she wasn’t doing, either.”
The back of my neck prickles. “Wait,” I say, “you said this lady was living at St. Peter’s house. Isn’t that a transitional housing place?”
The first-year shrugs.
“How the hell is she supposed to go for walks living there? Does she even have transportation to her therapy appointments?”
A little blush stains the tops of the guy’s cheeks. “She uses public transport, but she did indicate that it’s not always reliable.”
I nod. I don’t really have much else to add, or viable solutions, but my stomach churns all the same. This is exactly what Kendall has been talking about. Circumstances are powerful predictors of outcomes. She has more resources now, and therefore better access to good healthcare.
Later that evening, I find myself staring at my phone, thumb poised over Kendall’s name. I can’t get her out of my head. I type out a message and hit send.
Me
What have you been up to today?
Kendall
Plotting the demise of my enemies. Why?
Me
Am I still on that list?
Kendall
You’ve moved down a spot. Congratulations.
Kendall
I just got back from Pilates, actually. Went with some friends of mine
Me
Did you have a good time?
I smile as I sit down on my bed.
Kendall
Of course. My friends are amazing.
Me
Yeah? And do they still hate me too?
Kendall
I mean, was I supposed to tell them not to?
My chest squeezes. Of course she’s not telling her friends about me. She doesn’t want them to know she let her former bully kiss her. I can’t blame her, but it hurts. I guess she wouldn’t have wanted to spill anything the way I did with my roommate. After telling Adam the whole sordid story, I’m still worried he might feel differently about me,but I deserve that.
Me
Yeah, I guess not.
Me
