Who Can Really Blame You?

Deidra apparently asked someone who I am, what happened to me, or something of that nature, because she sits down with me, the fifth day in a row of us sitting together, and looks at me.

“What?” I ask, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“I’m just waiting for you to tell me yourself.”

I don’t reply for a long time.

“So someone told you?” I ask, turning to look at her, and seeing her guilty eyes. “Whatever,” I mumble, “Not even important.”

She says nothing, but apparently she wanted to, because when she speaks, she sounds like she’s been holding her breath.

“I didn’t realize you were him,” she says, “I saw that story on the news for weeks while I was being treated. I felt like I knew you.”

“What… what did they say?” I ask, glancing at her. I’ve yet to see more than a glimpse of any of the news story

“The news?” she asks, and continues when I nod. “They covered the shooting first, and then you came into it, like a back story. People are fascinated by it. The shooting came first, then they found out that he did it because he was being arrested for attacking you, and last I heard… they’re still following up with reports on your condition. Actually, all they say is that you’re in the hospital still with no word on how you’re doing. The people in the ward I was in have this bet that you’re in that hospital hooked up to some ventilator or something.”

“Oh,” I reply faintly.

“Yeah,” she says, “They talked about your dad too.”

I don’t say anything, my jaw tightening.

“Whenever you want to tell me what really happened, I’m here,” she said, and stood, walking away to the exit of the cafeteria, greeting three girls in our group.

I scowled at my plate and dumped it into the trash can within five minutes, annoyed with my life in the current moments.

I lay awake that night, thinking about Carter. I’ve been trying desperately to push him from my mind since the visit. I want to see him, just talk to him, and maybe only say “Can I borrow a pencil?” in English class, anything. I’m just losing my mind in here, and I miss him, and what’s worse, I feel foolish for missing him.

But I do. I really, really miss him. I miss my friends, I miss my aunt, I miss my dad, I miss my job, I miss Nick… I miss Mitchell.

I curl up into my blankets, press my face into the pillow and try to push out the sound of my roommate’s stomach growling desperately and my thoughts about Mitchell.

My feet are tucked up under myself in the currently abandoned rec-room. The couch I’m on it a sickly green color, but surprisingly comfortable. The lights hum above my head and I glance over when the door opens. Deidra peeks in, sees me, and enters the room, making her way slowly towards me.

“Hi,” she says, and I nod, moving a pillow so she can sit down. “So,” she continues, “Wanna talk?”

I remain silent.

“Okay,” she says, and we sit there for a long time. “It’s okay that you don’t want to tell me.”

“I want to,” I say, “It’s just… weird to say it.”

She nods, and I feel guilty. It’s not just weird for her to say it, it’s painful.

But isn’t it painful for me too? I can’t tell anymore with the way that I control my thoughts. Why can I control all thoughts about my aching stomach and my want to laugh, but I can’t control how often I think about Carter, or my friends, or how often I think about what happened, how I haven’t told anyone…

Your suffering is no less just because you’re luckier than some.

I can practically see Talia in front of mine, a scowl across her pretty face and I curl up tighter, pulling my sweater closer to my body.

“He raped me,” I say, releasing it into the universe, and I suddenly feel my stomach curling in on itself.

She doesn’t say anything, and her silence is a pedestal for my story. I choke out run on sentences, and by the time I’m done, she’s got her arms wrapped around me and it’s a little bit better than holding myself.

I’m lying. This is like hugging the pope instead of a cactus.

“Was that your first?” she asks.

“First…?” I ask.

“Boyfriend, kiss, sex, whatever,” she replies.

“I’d kissed before, but nothing else… I was willing the first time, and then… well, you know.”

She nods.

“Who did you kiss?” she asks, with a laugh.

“My best friend… Well, ex-best friend,” I reply, “It was so awkward. And then I kissed Carter a few times. He was really jealous of Carter.”

“Carter,” she says slowly, willing me to explain about him.

“He’s one of my best friends. I’ve liked him since before I really knew him. I told him that I liked him when he was still in the closet, he kissed me, we didn’t talk for awhile, then we kissed again, and then he misunderstood me and we didn’t talk for two or three months, and then I met Mitchell... I think that hurt Carter more than it hurt me,” I say.

“That’s… rocky,” she says. I shrug.

“We’re just difficult,” I explain.

She snickers.

“Shut up! You don’t know the half of it,” I say slapping her cast lightly.

“Oh my god, you must be terrible then,” she says, and we burst out laughing. My face hurts in the best way.

There’s a note on my door the next morning. It’s my discharge notice. I’m out in three days. I celebrate alone until Deidra gets back from her doctor’s appointment.

She tries to be happy, but she’s here for another week or two, and I know how crazy this place makes you with no one here. I think she worries about that.

“Someone else will come along,” I promise, “You’ll have a friend until you leave.”

“I’m not worried about being alone,” she sighs, “I only have one more week of a secure place to live.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, pausing as we enter the empty recreation room.

“My parents live in another state, and hate me for getting pregnant. I don’t have anywhere to go,” she sighs, “Maybe a shelter, but still…”

“You can live with me,” I say.

The morning that I’m scheduled to leave is beautiful. Well, it’s normal, really, but I think after being locked inside for weeks, even the rotting leaves that fell while I was trapped look beautiful, laying in piles of brown, red, and orange.

I am so relieved to get out of the hospital that I don’t care that my aunt is actually late to get me. I lay in the grass, playing with the leaves under my fingers, a few nurses come to check on me at one point, and I stare at the trees and the sky, and I am ridiculously happy to be here, in my own clothes again, with my own shoes on.

“We’re here!”

I look up, just as Talia starts her run across the lawn, followed by Hadley, and Tayler, who’s walking. I still don’t hold it against him.

“You guys are taking me home?” I ask, sitting up. Talia falls on me and hugs me for a long time, Hadley piling on top also.

“Yes!” she says, “Carter gave us a ride, and we’ll be taking you home, and having a sleepover, and it’ll be so much fun! I missed you!”

“We all missed you,” Hadley says. Talia makes a face at Tayler.

“Stop being mean,” Tayler whines, “I missed him too!”

Talia seems proud of herself, until it hits me. Carter’s here.

“Get off of him, and let’s go,” I hear him say, and I pull my face from Talia’s shirt and look at him. He smiles weakly, and I return it, unable to contain the huge smile that breaks out. He shifts on his feet, and shoves his hands in his pocket.

Talia helps me up, and I hug Carter. He doesn’t hug back for a moment.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hey,” he says quietly, tightening his arms around me.

“Missed you,” I mumble.

“Me too,” he says, pulling away. Talia winks at me and I turn a bit red.

“Let’s go,” Hadley calls, prancing towards the car, “We’re having a party at your apartment.”

I sigh.

“Did you guys make a mess?” I ask, moving towards the car. Talia giggles, grabs her brother, and runs off.

“Only a little one,” Carter assures me. I sigh a bit. “How are you?” he asks suddenly. I think about it as we continue walking slowly across the lawn towards the parking lot. Talia is hitting the car, trying to make it open.

“I’m better,” I say, “I’m taking something to help me sleep, and I made a friend in there. She’s great. I think you guys will like her. She helped me a lot.”

Carter goes quiet.

“I appreciate you guys trying to help,” I say, suddenly realizing what he took that to mean, “But I think it was easier to tell her everything because she went through it too.”

“What do you mean everything?” he asks, “I thought we knew.”

I bite my lip.

“Mitchell and I had sex,” I blurt. Carter slows down a bit.

“Okay,” he says, “People do that a lot, you know.”

“He raped me,” I mumble. Carter stops.

“What?” he asks quietly.

“It was a long time ago,” I say, staring at my feet.

“I just… I just wish you’d have told us then,” he says.

“I didn’t tell anyone until last week,” I reply, and beckon him to continue towards the car. He follows again.

“They don’t know?” he asks, gesturing towards everyone attacking his car.

“No,” I say. He nods.

“Thank you,” he says, “You know, for telling me.”

I nod, and decide instantly that life really is too short (no matter how much time I may or may not have left), and that if I’m thinking something, then I should say it, not because it makes life more transparent, and therefore easier, but because if life is opaque, then no one is ever really going to be allowed in, and that’s not life at all.

“I love you most, so it seemed right,” I tell him, and he stops again. I pause too and look at him.

“Really?” he asks, and I nod, my face a bit pink. He leans down and kisses me. Talia and Hadley cheer, and my face heats more.

Carter pulls away, red in the face too.

“I love you too,” he says, smiling broadly. I match his expression

“I’m really psyched for the release of that sexual tension, but can you guys let us in the car now?” Hadley calls over. Carter ignores them and takes my hand, and we begin to walk over to the car again.
“Let us in the car, slow pokes!” Talia demands.

Carter rolls his eyes, releases my hand, and heads over to unlock the doors.

Tayler gives me a high five.