Part 23 (2/2)

What was he doing? I wondered.

I asked, ”Who was that girl in that picture you drew?”

”Who?”

”Remember, you were drawing the other day and you didn't want me to see it.” I smiled, remembering how he'd been behaving.

He was not smiling now. ”Do you have my drawing?”

I didn't want to answer, seeing how he seemed a little irritated.

”No,” I lied. ”I just saw it on the floor, and I glanced at it. It's probably in the trash now.”

”Oh,” he sighed. He looked down and started playing with his shoelaces.

I didn't know how to take that. Was he disappointed or relieved?

”So,” I pressed on, ”who was that?”

”It was my girlfriend,” he said in a low voice.

”I thought you didn't have a girlfriend,” I told him.

He looked up, shocked. ”Where did you hear that?”

I thought about Janine and her big mouth.

”No one. I guess I just...” I didn't know what to say.

He shrugged it off.

”She's at home. She's probably writing me another letter,” he laughed. ”She was always bad at reading and writing. She hated talking on the phone. She was so complicated.” He was blus.h.i.+ng for some reason. ”She definitely doesn't smile. But under her runny mascara, which she never could put on right, she did. Only, she did it with her eyes. Smiles and eyes. That's all she was.” He took a deep breath. ”Is,” he corrected himself.

I felt my heart melt. Then envy crept inside, and I shook it off quickly.

”Will she come visit you?” I forced myself to say.

He chuckled. ”Probably not,” he admitted. ”She hates hospitals. I mean she really hates them. Once we were walking back to my house when we were coming home from the movies, and it just started raining outside. It was thundering and lightning. The only place that we could go to try to wait the storm out was a hospital that we were pa.s.sing by. She was more scared of the hospital than the storm. She said that she would rather be struck by lightning than wait inside of a hospital. We ran all the way to my place in the storm.”

He kept laughing as though it was his happiest memory, and he never wanted to let go. He seemed to be holding on firm to it. I tried to smile back at him, but it was too hard. His story seemed too sad, for some reason. There was something else about his story. It made me sad, and I wanted to deny it.

My insides began to tremble, and I felt my skin grow cold. I looked at the clock. Visiting hours were coming soon. I could feel the temperature in the room dropping.

My mother came a half-hour after visiting hours began. As soon as she gave me my blanket, I wrapped it around me.

”Thanks, Mom,” I said, hugging her. I allowed myself to warm up to her.

She smiled and said, ”You must be feeling better.”

”It stays cold in here,” I told her. ”And they only give you these really thin, white blankets. It's kind of creepy.”

She laughed.

”What?”

”Nothing,” she said. ”It's just nice to see you smiling again. You must be getting better. Are they treating you well?”

”Yes,” I said. ”I'm fine.” I smelled my blanket. It smelled like wild orchids.

”I brought your school books so that you can get your homework done while you are in here. You're home schooling, so you have to keep up with that.”

I shoved the books aside and continued to snuggle my blanket.

”Here's your brush,” she said as she started removing items from a plastic bag. ”Make sure you use that, Kristen. Your hair is a mess.”

My smile disappeared. Just when I thought that it was okay to start smiling around her again, she reminded me why I couldn't.

”Here's a new toothbrush. They took the toothpaste. I guess you can't have that on your own. She said that they will give it to you in the morning. There's some extra underwear that I got out of your drawers at home.” She sat the bag down on the floor next to my chair.

”Thanks, Mom.” I said.

”Sure. You needed that stuff, right? So, I brought it.”

Afraid that there would be awkward silence, I spoke quickly. ”How are Nicky and Ally?”

”They are fine,” she said. ”They are with John's mother. Mariah is going to watch them until I get home. Nick is getting on my nerves about coming to visit you. But even if he could come see you, I wouldn't let them come here.” She shook her head at me.

I understood why.

”I don't want them to see me here,” I told her.

”Think about it,” she said. ”You want to set an example for them. ”What kind of example is this supposed to be? Do you want to be the big sister who they learn what not to do from?”

I shook my head.

She continued. ”I really need you to get yourself together, Kristen. All of this teenage depression stuff has to stop. You are getting too old for this. I know that you have been through a lot, but you don't see Nick pulling this kind of c.r.a.p. Besides, I don't want him to look at you and think that, just because you are doing these bad things, it's okay for him to deal with his anger like this. He has had it a lot worse than you have, and he doesn't go around cutting himself with knives and swallowing pills for attention. It doesn't help anyone when you're like this.”

It took every part of me not to cry. I felt a tear dangling in the corner of my eye. I blinked, and unfortunately, it fell. The first tear ran down my cheek, and I sniffed. Other tears followed. This made Mom angry.

”Get a hold of yourself,” she said. ”I'm not yelling at you. For G.o.d's sake, Kristen. Why are you crying? You see? This is your problem. I just can't have a normal conversation with you. You just start crying, and then won't say anything. Will you just tell me why you did it? Will you, please?”

I put my hands to my face. I hid behind them and sobbed harder.

She growled angrily, ”Kristen, what the h.e.l.l is your problem? I am your mother. You should be able to talk to me. What is it? How can I help you?”

I uncovered my face. I was stunned. She wanted to help me.

463'>

<script>