We agree and then invade her bedroom.Danika is propped up, sipping tea.She’s not as pale, although the dark circles haven’t faded.Pinprick red dots freckle her lids and both eyes.And the bruising on her neck looks angrier than ever.
“Oh, Danika,” Darcy cries, seeing the damage done.
“She’s okay, baby,” Jaz whispers in her ear.“We’re here to make sure of it.”
Exhaustion paints her face.And her eyes don’t shine as bright.Yesterday changed her, I know.It’s changed me too.But the fire’s still in there.She’s still my bold, unapologetic best friend.We just need to make her feel safe, so she can light up again.
“You’re not allowed to talk,” I announce, trying to lighten the mood.“But that’s what this is for.”Jaz presents her with a small whiteboard that we framed with jewels, various shades of neon nail polish and stickers.None of us could sleep, so we got up early and raided my craft supplies—after purchasing the polish and board at the convenience store.
Danika looks between us with a small smile, her brows furrowed in permanent sadness.She takes the board and writes,Thank you.She purses her lips, searching for words that aren’t easy to write.Or say.I know what it’s like when words aren’t enough.Sorrywill never feel like enough.
She erases the words, then scribbles quickly, like she’s in a rush to get it out:I love you all for being here, but I really want to be alone right now.
Danika averts her eyes, blinking back tears.
My chest constricts.But I understand.I failed her.She wanted me with her to keep something bad from happening.But I was so wrapped up in my own drama, I wasn’t with her when it mattered.
“Why?”Darcy asks.The only one of us who’d dare question this.“Are you mad at us for not doing anything to protect you?Because we’ve been talking.”Jaz and Darcy have been talking; I’ve been listening.“And we feel like the worst friends ever for not saying something sooner.”
Danika’s eyes widen.She shakes her head frantically.No.Not your fault.I was stupid.
“Stupid is contagious when love is involved,” Jaz says simply.
“Never again,” I vow.The girls know exactly what I’m saying after our conversation last night.
“Never again,” Jaz and Darcy echo.Danika nods, tears clinging to her lashes.
“Now move over so we can watchThelma & Louise,” Jaz insists, searching for the remote to turn on the DVD player.
I sit beside Danika with Darcy cross-legged on the other side.She rests her shoulder against mine.I erase everything afterI love youon the whiteboard and draw a heart around it.Danika lets the tears fall.
Maybe we should’ve given her space to heal.Or maybe healing is being surrounded by friends who love you so much they recognize they need to take better care of each other.
Either way, we stay.And we cheer, holler, and cry for our friend who cannot speak.We are her voice.We promise each other we won’t be silent.Never again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
You can’t tell Jonathan,” I say, leaning over the table to grip Collin’s shirt so he understands how serious I am.Or desperate.
“Why would I tell Jonathan that you lost your virginity to Graham Westhouser?I don’t know ifIwant to know.”
I release his shirt with a huff and slump back in my chair.
“IlikeGrahamso much.I do.But when he said he loved me—”
“You took your clothes off so you wouldn’t have to say it back.Makes perfect sense.”
I groan.“When you say it like that, it sounds terrible.”
“I mean, Jonathan gave it up to a junior in college last year because she thought he was twenty and he figured it was easier to sleep with her than tell her he was a high school sophomore, visiting the campus.You two are seriously miscommunication nightmares.”
“What’s with him and older girls anyway?”I don’t think he’s ever dated a girl his age.Well, he hasn’t actually dated anyone.They’ve all been girls he’s hooked up with in some way in other towns, schools or college.I’ve hated hearing about all of them for reasons I can’t think about right now.
“Right?”Collin adds.“And how does he always get away with being, like, four years older than he is?I didn’t even have chest hair all of sophomore year.”
“Drives me crazy,” I say half-heartedly with an eye roll.
“Nice change of subject.Maybe youshouldbe a lawyer.”
