An audible sob left my lips.
Mike gathered me into his chest, tighter than ever before, and I felt nauseated for feeling gratitude toward Jason for not doing as he’d threatened. But the sick feeling welled up into a circle of anger within me. My fists clenched behind Mike’s back. I closed my eyes tight. One day, I didn’t know when, or how, but one day, I would make Jason pay for what he did to me.
Mike leaned out from our embrace and looked at my lips, then my eyes, stroking my hair off my brow. “Is this why you won’t see Emily—because she was there with me?”
I nodded, looking down.
Mike took a really long breath, letting it out slowly. “You know, she’s been hysterical over this. She needs to see you—she blames herself, Ara, for not chasing after you when she saw you walk away with that man.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She cries every time I see her, and there’s nothing I can do to console her. Will you please just see her? She loves you, just the same as we all do.”
“But—she saw, Mike. I can’t help how I feel.”
“Oh, baby. Please don’t be like that. Emily’s your friend, and she’s a girl. I’m sure she’s seen it all before.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I know. But I’m just trying to get you to understand how little any of that means when, in the greater scheme of things, we thought we’d find you dead—or much, much worse.”
I wedged the tongue of stubbornness into my cheek and shook my head.
“Ara. Emily’s not to blame. You can’t hide from this, and you won’t make yourself feel better by punishing her.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! Fine. I’ll see her.”
Mike let out a quick huff of relief. “Really?”
“Yes. If you shut up.”
“Shutting up.” He kissed my lips, scrunching my cheeks between his hands. “I’m gonna go call her. Okay?”
I nodded and fell back against my pillows as he backed away and closed the door. It only felt like ten minutes passed before Sam popped his head around the corner and said, “Emily’s here.”
I put my book down and pressed my hands into the mattress until I was sitting up properly. “Send her in.”
“You sure, sis?” Sam asked, slightly closing himself in the room with me. “Because, I know Mike kinda pushed you into this.”
I smiled at Sam. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
He nodded, then signalled into the corridor.
Emily, with her hands clasped in front of her, walked very slowly into my room and smiled.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” As soon as the words left her lips, she spun around to close my door, then just stood there with her head against it.
“Em?”
“I’m okay.” She nodded, exhaling.
“What’s wrong?”
“I. I have rules. Things I’m not allowed to say, but—”
I waited, allowing her to pull herself together.
“I—I just don’t know what to say. I’m so...so sorry.” She turned to face me then, and tears rained over her crossed arms, falling past her elbows to the carpet. “It’s my fault. I should have—”
“Em. Don’t. Okay?” I held a hand up. “Just don’t. Say. Anything about it.”
After a moment, she sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
“Thanks, Em.” I opened my eyes.
“We’ll just talk about the weather then.” She smiled a weak smile, then sat beside me on the bed.
“That’s what I need.”
And we did talk about the weather—the past, the present, the future. The coming spring, the wild winter, and I know a few times Emily wondered if I was talking in code, referring to David as the rain, the sadness, or talking about the attack when I spoke of the storms. And who knows, maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. But it was nice to just talk for no other reason than to exchange words in the company of someone you’d come to love.
By the time Dad told Emily to ‘let me rest’, I had formed a real smile at least twice and had managed to forget about the attack for a while.
“Em?” I said as she went to close my door behind her.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come back tomorrow?”
She pressed her lips into a tight line, nodding rapidly, then closed the door before I heard her burst into tears on the other side.
Rising from my first dreamless slumber since I woke from my nightmare, I drew a deep breath and watched the sun rise higher in the sky until it shone through my crystals, making a pale rainbow dance on the wall above my dresser.
I looked away; colour didn’t belong in my life anymore. I wondered if it ever would again.
I did find one moment of joy in all the gloom, though, as I extended my limbs into a stretch and, for the first time, they didn’t hurt quite so much. I felt the cold as if it were only cold, not sharp pins, and could actually find appreciation in the beautiful winter that set in deep while I was in a coma. It had been a shock to my nerves when I felt the sting of the frost on that first day they brought me home. But I actually liked it now—more than I once liked the autumn.
“Hey? Good morning. I didn’t know you were awake,” Mike chimed, leaning on my doorframe.
“I’ve been awake for the last three weeks, Mike.”
“You know what I mean.” He gave a simple smile. He looked rested today; his hair was still wet from a shower and the smell of his fresh, powder-scented cologne filled my room.
“Yeah, I know. I was joking around with you.” I sat up in my bed.
“Joking?” He nodded, pursing his lips in consideration. “That’s a good sign.”
“So is general conversation.” I waited, expecting him to chuckle. “You know, ‘cause dead people don't talk.”
“Oh. Ha!” He laughed once. “Sorry, I'm not used to the lame joke game anymore.”
I shrunk a little. I wasn’t playing the lame joke game. I was actually attempting to be funny.
“Something wrong, kid?” Mike dropped his folded arms and moved to sit beside me.
“Nah, I've just been doing some thinking.”
“What about?”
“Stuff.”
“David?”
I didn't mean to, but I stiffened all over. “Maybe.”
“Ara—” He paused, seemingly assessing his words. “I love you. And…I’m your best friend. I always will be. But I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I know…things…and I know that he—”