Savin' Me

"Please," I whispered, calming down my sobs and breaking through the silence that rested under the sound of my cries, "don't tell anyone."

"Don't tell anyone?!" Soda exclaimed back at me. His eyes wandered back down to my scars, and back up at me. "How long have you been doing this to yourself?"

"A couple of years," I replied. I yanked my arm back, and this time, he let it drop.

"Why? Are you...Do you want to kill yourself?" I appreciated the fact that he was trying to understand instead of writing me off as a nut case and admitting me to a psych ward.

"No, I don't. It's just..." For a second, I paused, trying to figure out the proper words I could use to describe it. "It's like this: I'm really used to bad things happening to me. Most of the time, it was my father hitting me, but today was different. Anyway, when something bad happens, my emotions shut down. So it's like I feel nothing. I'm just numb. And so cutting myself...it made what I was feeling real and pinpoint, making everything easier."

I looked down at my arm, seeing that it was still bleeding a little. Soda followed my gaze and nodded briefly before getting me a paper towel.

"Thanks," I granted before laying the towel over my arm and watching it absorb the blood. As time passed, silence lingering in the air, the flow slowed.

"Why did you start this time?" When he spoke, his voice sounded hurt, almost as if he felt responsible for what happened.

"I...I got a bad grade. My first failing grade." His face contorted to yell at me, probably to say that a grade is not that big of a deal, so I rushed to continue. "But it wasn't just the grade itself. I remembered how I got that grade because my father seriously hurt me the night before."

Soda was silent for a second before he pulled me in for a hug, not knowing what else to say. By that point, my tears had completely stopped, my breathing back to its normal rhythm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not your fault,"" I replied, slapping his back gently once before pulling away. "But just please don't tell anyone."

He bit his lip, contemplating. "I don't want you to cut again. So let's make a deal, alright?" I stared at him, careful not to agree to anything until his idea was presented. "Give me your razor. If I see that you cut ever again, I'm telling Darry."

"But..." I tried to argue, but I realized that what he was saying was probably the best deal that I was going to get.

He shook his head. "If you don't agree, I'm calling Darry right now and telling him to come home. And you know that he's going to bring you to a hospital right away."

Finally, I sighed and nodded. "Follow me."

We journeyed up the stairs, and I pulled out my shoe box. I handed him the razor, feeling like a major part of me was being taken away. How was I going to feel? How was I going to cope with whatever challenges came my way next?

As if he could read my mind, Soda reassured me, "Everything's going to be okay, I promise. This is going to be better in the long run."

"I hope so," I mumbled as he stuffed the tiny razor into his pocket. "So you're not going to tell anyone, right? Not a soul?"

"No," he replied, "not unless you cut again."

The front door opened. "Zoe?" Pony's voice called out. "You're home?"

"Get out of my room," I muttered quickly to Soda, putting both hands on his back and shoving him out to the hallway. I closed my door loudly behind him and went to change my shirt.

"...What was going on....?" Pony questioned, his voice thick with implications.

"Nothing," Soda covered suavely.

I could hear Pony asking something else, but I didn't quite make out what he was saying. All I could hear was Soda laughing a little too loudly and saying, "No. Definitely not."

From the corner of my eye, I saw the reflection of my side and finished turning all the way. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I looked a little different. Maybe I was just taking a step in the right direction. Well, being forced in the right direction, anyway.

There was a soft knock at the door, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Come in," I told the person, running a hand through my hair quickly.

Johnny opened the door with a cute smile on his face, but I noticed that he stayed in the hallway instead of entering my room.

"Just wanted to see if you were okay," he informed me. It seemed like there was a deeper meaning to what he said, but I shook it off. My mind was just playing tricks on me.

"I'm fine. I'm actually coming out now." I stepped right in front of him, noticing that he wasn't too much taller than me (maybe a couple inches), and pulled the door shut behind me.

"Actually...you want to take a walk?" He seemed kind of nervous, which made the butterflies kick-start in my own stomach.

"Yeah, alright." I explained quickly to Soda and Pony where Johnny and I were going. During my short explanation, Soda's and my eyes made brief contact. I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor and blushed.

When I looked back up, Johnny was looking at me with questioning in his eyes. Instead of answering his unspoken question, I grabbed his hand and bid a fast good-bye.

For about two blocks, Johnny and I remained quiet, both of us with our hands buried inside our pockets.

"So," he finally started, his voice kind of weak, "I was just wondering..."

My heart picked up pace. There was no way that he could know that I cut. Nervously and as inconspicuously as I could, I glanced down at my arm. Nope, no blood. I was clear.

"What?" I pushed him to talk again, since he'd seemed to have stopped with no intention of continuing.

"I was...It looked like..." He finally gave up with trying to figure out a different way to word what he was trying to say and sighed loudly, sounding fed up. "Are you and Soda going out?"

Though it was mean, I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "No. Absolutely not. I don't like Soda like that."

"Oh." After a short pause, he defended his question. "I just thought it was weird how when you were talking and all, you looked at him and then looked away, all embarrassed."

"You're perceptive," I told him with a smile, nudging him with my shoulder. "But no, don't worry."

Johnny smiled a little bit, and I grinned back at him. He really was a cute guy, and he was sweet.

We talked for a while, and by the time we got back to the house, Darry was home and making dinner. My muscles tightened the second I saw Darry, worried for a second that Soda went behind my back and told him.

But Darry just turned around and grinned at the two of us. "Hey, guys. Have a nice walk?" He winked at me, and my face promptly turned into a tomato. Well, the color at least.

"Yeah..." I trailed off, shooting him a glare that clearly showed nothing happened. Darry rolled his eyes and went back to cooking. I was going to throw him out a window one day.

If I could, that was.