But how do we know at such a young age what we want to do for the rest of our lives? We barely know what it means to be an adult.
The worst part is changing careers as an adult. Others judge you because "you have no direction", that "you're not stable." That "they don't trust you for wanting to do something different."
But changing careers should be the most normal thing in the world, especially between your 20s and 30s, when you already know what you really want in life.
Now that I knew what it was like to be an accountant and how much I enjoyed being in a hospital, I probably wouldn't have chosen the career I did.
Will I be here long enough to make a change?
The thought of having to go through it all again frightened me. Kyle and I hadn't spent any time figuringout how to get out of this situation, knowing we had other, more important priorities to focus on, but eventually, we had to consider it.
Which made me think about what Kyle had texted me last night.
"I think we were always wrong about Jeremy. He doesn't like your brother."
How was that possible?
In our present, Jeremy tries to talk to me about my brother as little as possible. I'd always thought he felt guilty about everything that had happened and didn't want me to feel bad, but now I realize it might be because of something else entirely.
Sometimes, I wish I'd been more open with everyone about what happened during that week so that I wouldn't be so lost right now. But some things from the past can't be changed, and we're left to live with the consequences of how we choose to handle them.
Now I realize my mistake in how I reacted to everything back then. I tried to forget it had happened so my mistakes wouldn't haunt me. I tried to act strong, like it didn't hurt at all, hoping that if I pretended long enough, I'd start believing it myself.
I tried to act like life had given me a second chance and that I should take advantage of it by becoming someone completely different, all while ignoring the fact that everything had really affected me. I buried my pain so deep I convinced myself it didn't exist. I built walls so high I forgot there was a world beyond them.
And now I'm here, realizing that none of what I did really worked, not even for myself. Now, I have an actual second chance, and I don't know how to help my loved ones because by avoiding all that pain, I became someone who might harm them again through ignorance.
For ten years, I thought moving forward meant forgetting. I thought strength meant never looking back, never acknowledging the wounds that shaped me. I convinced myself that if I just worked hard enough, achieved enough, and controlled enough of my environment, I could outrun the girl who'd lost everything that mattered.
But you can't build a life on the foundation of denial. You can't heal wounds you refuse to acknowledge exist.
I spent all this time trying to move on by pretending it never happened, when I should have been learning how to make it right.
And that's what I'm going to do now. Every mistake I made, every moment I chose fear over courage, every time I let my pain make me smaller, I won't hide from any of it anymore. Because my mistakes aren't something to be ashamed of; they're proof that I cared enough to try, even when I didn't know how.
After finishing cleaning my workspace, I headed to the lobby to see who was next on the patient list, and I saw a very familiar name. Florence Reynolds. My English teacher. The person who took Oliver's phone and, through her carelessness, had someone spread my brother's video all over the school. Knowing that she was part of the disaster that caused the transformation in my life made my head spin, so I did the most sensible thing someone my age could do in this situation: I ran to the break room and locked myself in there.
But just as I took a deep breath, I looked in front of me and found Kyle sitting on a sofa across from me, his arms crossed, staring at me blatantly.
"So getting us locked in at work just to make out, huh? I have to admit, I kind of like it."
CHAPTER 25
Kyle
I'd been hidingin the break room for about ten minutes, trying to avoid another encounter with Mrs. Henderson, who seemed determined to make me clean bedpans. When the door burst open, and Lily stumbled in, locking it behind her, I couldn't help myself.
"So getting us locked in at work just to make out, huh? I have to admit, I kind of like it. a." She jumped, clearly not expecting anyone to be here. And that's when I saw it, the look on her face wasn't annoyance or embarrassment. She was clearly upset or worried.
All my teasing evaporated instantly. I stood up from the couch and started walking carefully to where she was. "Lily? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm fine. I just needed a break."
"You're not fine. Talk to me. What happened?"
She shook her head, pressing her palms against her eyes. "I can't... I don't know what to do."
I remembered what used to work when we were together before. Without explaining, I grabbed my bag from where I had it next to the couch and started riflingthrough it.
