When I flip down the visor to look in the mirror, I know there’s no way I can enter my house without my parents knowing something’s wrong.I stopped crying.I’ve become numb, unable to tap into any emotion.It’s been years since I’ve been this shut down.
My heart seizes, and I close my eyes to keep the tidal wave of emotion from rising again.My door clicks open, and the cold rushes in.
“C’mon, kid.You can’t sit out here all night.”My dad offers me his hand.And as soon as I take it, he pulls me up and into a hug.I let go and cry in his arms, sniffling into his sweater, infused with the scent I’ve known all my life.Arms that have held me just as long.Strong and protective.Except I’m still broken, no matter how tight his embrace.
“Let’s get you some hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.”He kisses the top of my head and guides me inside.“Your mom is out with her design team and won’t be back until late.It’s just you and me.”
How’d you know?” I ask, covering my legs with a soft blanket as I sink into the pillows on the couch in the theatre room.My dad sets a mug on the table in front of me with some cookies and a small bowl of multicolored mini marshmallows.
“Jane called the house.”He sits beside me and lifts his arm so I can snuggle against him.“She was worried.I didn’t want to distract you while you were driving, so I didn’t call.But I was only giving you five more minutes to get home before I was coming to get you.”
My body’s depleted.My heart aches.My head pounds, and my face is raw.I’m soul-exhausted.I can barely lift my mug to take a sip.
“Do you want to talk about it?”My dad’s voice rumbles in his chest, pressed against my ear.
I shake my head, setting the hot chocolate back on the table.
“Can we anyway?”
“I don’t think I can,” I tell him.
“That doesn’t make a dad worried or anything.”He rubs my arm, a gesture of comfort, letting me know I’m safe.Safe to tell him the hard things.Safe from everything that may feel too big.Except my dad can’t protect me from myself.
“It’s just… too raw.”
“Did anyone hurt you?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
“But in the way that worries me more.”When I glance up at him, he explains, “Your heart?”
I press my lips together to hold back the sob, but the tears don’t need much urging before dripping from my lashes.
I lose myself again in his sweater.
“Oh, sweetie,” my dad soothes.“I’m so sorry.I never wanted this to happen.”
“I think I lost them both,” I say between sobs.
“Both?”
“JonathanandCollin.”
“I doubt that.”
“I was horrible to Collin.I said something that really hurt him.”
“And Jonathan?”
I can only shake my head.I don’t know who hurt who more.Or if he has any right to be upset with me.Not after what I saw.
“I wanted to be wrong,” he murmurs into my hair.I don’t ask him what he means because I never wanted him to be right about any of it.
Iwake with a blanket tucked around me, like my dad always did when it was his turn to kiss me goodnight when I was little.The Wizard of Ozis on the screen, muted.But I don’t need to hear it to know what they’re saying.It’s one of my favorite movies.I dressed as a character from the story five Halloweens in a row, beginning when I was four.
The Tin Man is singing about all he’d be able to feel if he only had a heart.
“You can have mine,” I tell him before taking a deep breath and stretching.I search for my phone but remember I left it in the car with my jacket.I decide it can stay there.
