Karla was still grumpy most of the time. I was fine with her grumpiness because if anyone deserved the right to be in a bad mood, it was her. I saw how other people treated her at school. Even people who didn’t know her would laugh at her. The only person who sometimes looked guilt-ridden by the bullying was Missy, but she never stood up for Karla. If anything, Missy’s boyfriend was Karla’s biggest bully. Brian and his girlfriend Rosie weren’t any better. She even seemed jealous of Karla, which made me wonder what their friendship was like before the accident. Brian pretended to be nice to Karla’s face when people weren’t around, but I’d overheard him and Rosie making jokes about her limp once.
That made my hatred for Brian grow even more. I hated fake people.
The kinds of comments some of our classmates made when they passed us in the hallway made me want to snap at everysingle one of them. But Karla wouldn’t let me be the devil on her shoulder. Each time I almost snapped, she’d shake her head and tell me it was fine. It wasn’t, though.
She told me she used to be friends with those jerks, too, which made it even more shocking. I guessed they turned on her after her accident.
Sometimes, I’d catch her gazing at her old friends with a look of defeat in her eyes. Or maybe longing? I didn’t get it. They acted like she chose to go through one of the hardest things in her life. Did they think she wanted the mental and physical trauma that came with losing her mother and losing the ability to freely move her body?
I knew people like them, because I used to be just like them. Idiotic and cruel without any thought.
They were dicks.
There was no better way of saying it, and each day that passed, each time they mocked her, my annoyance grew. I hated them. I hated the way they snickered. I hated the way they laughed. I hated the way they looked so happy to belittle Karla.
The girls were annoying, but the person I hated the most?
Brian.
He was so fake with the way he interacted with Karla. He only did it in private and never stood up for her when his closest friends were being assholes. He’d just give her a half-assed apologetic smile, which ticked me off.
The worst part of it all with Brian? Karla ate it up.
She didn’t realize he was just as bad as—if not worse than—the others. Karla didn’t deserve a friendship that was only in secret. I had no shame being friends with her out loud. I just wished she didn’t get so starry-eyed from the few drops and crumbs that Brian delivered her way every now and then.
I couldn’t tell her who to like and who to despise. It wasn’tmy place, plus Karla just began to not hate the idea of me being around. I wasn’t going to push the envelope and make her pissed at me because I hated her old friend group. But if it had been my place? Brian would’ve been at the top of the list of people I’d tell to piss off. After Colton, at least.
Karla and I started hanging out at her house once a week. I liked it over there. Even though there were moments of dark energy in the house, it felt familiar to me, too. You could feel in the space that a person, Karla’s mom, was missing. I felt that same way every time I walked past my family room—the missing pieces of Rian.
I felt the heaviness of Karla’s life the most when I crossed paths with Mr.East. Karla’s father was a mystery of his own. I didn’t want to say he scared me, but, well, he scared me. He was like his daughter in many ways, though. I could see how they were related. They closed themselves off to the world in the same kinds of ways. Their grumpy personalities mirrored each other.
And also—they had the same eyes.
Blue eyes filled with all the sadness they never expressed out loud.
It was like two sets of ocean waves that kept painfully crashing against the shore.
I wondered what would happen if the two of them actually spoke to each other.
I wondered if it would cause more hurt or more healing.
I wondered the same thing about my parents.
I wondered if they wondered the same thing about me.
***
On a Saturday, Karla turned fifteen. I made her brownies, and we found eggshells in them. She laughed about it and said theywere her favorite brownies. I thought about telling her she was becoming my favorite person.
I didn’t, though.
***
On a Thursday, Karla sewed up my hoodie, fixing all the holes in it.
As she stitched me back together, I thought about what it would be like to kiss her.
I didn’t, though.
