Old Wounds (18 page)

Again I shook my head. I’d already said too much. I couldn’t do much more harm. “N-n-n-no. I-I-I…”

I took a moment to compose myself. Her appearance radiated nothing but patience, so I tried to articulate what I truly wanted out of life. “I-I w-w-want t-t-to ttttalk liiiiike n-normal p-p-people.” Running both hands down my face, I let them fall to my lap as I closed my eyes. “I-I w-want to have f-f-friends.”

I heard her sigh but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her again as she processed what I said. I didn’t want to talk to her. Why I had said anything at all was beyond me.

“You have friends, Elliott.” I shook my head in response. “I know for a fact David and Jane consider you a friend. And what about Trent and Rebecca?”

“Th-they h-ha-have to p-p-p-put up w-w-with me. Th-they h-have to liiiike me.” I opened my eyes and fixed them on a picture behind Robin’s head, enabling me to look past her, but still see her.

She smiled as a mother would. If she had been sitting closer, perhaps she would have ruffled my hair. “People don’t do what they don’t
want
to do on some level. We all like you because we want to like you. What about Sophie?”

I shook my head, lowering my eyes once more. I didn’t want to talk about Sophie. She wasn’t my friend and I couldn’t expect her to be. She’d given it a shot on Saturday and I had failed to give her reason to like me.

Thursday, I looked on as Chris Anderson asked Sophie to the Homecoming dance in front of me. It would be a complete and total lie if I said that I wasn’t extremely happy that she’d turned him down flat, but when she finally made it to our table, I kept my eyes down.

It wasn’t until Friday when I finally felt some hope. She was confusing and I had no clue what went on inside her head, but as the group session ended, Sophie didn’t move. It took forever for her to finally look at me and when she did, she remained frozen.

I had no idea what she was doing and why. I nearly panicked. Was she trying to tell me that she had no intentions of keeping up the pretense of being interested? Was she just being defiant? She was making me insanely nervous. I already felt like a complete idiot around her.

Then in a last-ditch effort, I nodded toward the stairs and she finally smiled. I felt like I could breathe again. My nerves were still getting the better of me as she followed me to my room.

We were always good in my room and as I entered, I hoped with everything I had that we could just be like we were before, and forget the strangeness of the week.

It took her a minute, but finally she said. “Play something for me.”

Her voice wasn’t confident like usual. It sounded sad, or maybe resigned. It was soft and it seemed as if she actually thought I might say no to her request.

I followed her eyes to my guitars and for some reason, my nerves settled down immediately. She took her usual seat on the couch, and studied me as I pulled down my favorite Gibson and sat down at the desk chair.

Although I kept my eyes cast down, I took a few glances up as I played. She just sat there watching me, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. I couldn’t read her face, so I had no real indication if she thought I was good, or if she even liked what I was playing.

I played someone else’s song. It was too soon to expose any more of myself by playing something I had written.

After I finished, I set the guitar down. “That was nice,” she said before turning to my bookcase.

I fixated on her hands. Her fingers were constantly moving. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs over her nails before balling her hands into fists and then uncurling them.

She was just…odd. Maybe she was high again.

It wasn’t as if I had lots of experience with her, but she seemed different, and not as relaxed as she usually was. “A-are you o-okay?” I asked before I thought better of it.

Finally she looked up and smiled. “Yeah,” she answered, her voice airy, “why?”

I shook my head, but watched her closely.

“I’m just…you know, its Friday…and I’m here.”

Oh. I could see why that wouldn’t be enjoyable for her. She was vibrant and fun and here she was, stuck with me. I looked down, feeling that once more there was no hope for me, but when she spoke again, I forced myself to look at her and noticed her whole demeanor had changed.

“Not that I’m upset about being here, you know, with
you
. That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just this fucking therapy shit. I mean, really. Between Olivia’s anger and Andrea’s vomit, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She gave me a tentative smile that widened when I returned it.

“I know this can’t be fun for you either, right?” I shook my head in response and she continued. “I mean, you’ve got to be around all this shit constantly.”

She shifted, and then sat cross-legged. I tried to ignore that her shoes were on the couch. She leaned toward me. “So give me the scoop. I’m sure it was all covered in group before I got here, so there’s no harm in telling me. Besides, I’d find out anyway.”

I didn’t follow what she was asking me about. “Th-the sc-scoop?”

Looking like I should know what she was talking about, she said, “Yeah, the scoop about the other Screw-Ups. What’s up with them? Why are they here?” When I didn’t respond, she continued. “Like your brother, or his girlfriend.”

While I didn’t exactly feel comfortable telling other people’s stories, she was right. Nothing I would tell her hadn’t been covered openly before. There would really be no harm in it. “D-D-David w-w-was c-c-conceived t-to b-be a mmmmatch ffffor his b-brother...”

“What?” she asked, her expression indicating she didn’t believe me. “A match?”

“A d-donor.” I watched as Sophie wrapped her mind around the concept. “His b-brother w-was sick. H-he n-needed all sssssorts of t-t-transplants and s-s-so they m-m-made D-David.” She looked stunned. “B-but w-when the t-transplants f-f-f-faaaa, were unsuccessful, h-his p-parents d-didn’t wwwwant him.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her shock was obvious. I nodded. “They
harvested
organs from him?”

“W-well that w-was the p-plan. Th-they took p-part of his liver and sssssome marrow, but w-when it d-didn’t w-work…” There was no need to finish the sentence. I was sure she got the idea and I really didn’t want to talk about what his parents put him through after that.

Typically, no one saw his pain, but every once in a while, when it got too much, he couldn’t reel it in. Stephen invested in a punching bag for the basement when he came home to a demolished wall and five broken bones in David’s right hand.

David’s name meant “well-beloved” and “dear.” That was exactly what he was now. It was why he tried so hard to be perfect for everyone.

“B-B-Becca’s d-d-dad llllleft when sssshe w-w-was little. Hhhhe w-was m-mean”

“Well, if I was married to someone like Wallace, I’d leave too.”

It wasn’t a nice comment to make, especially since she didn’t have all the information, but I ignored it. I thought about what I wanted to ask her all week. “S-Sophie?”

“Hmm?”

“Ar-are w-we f-f-fr-friends?”

She just stared at me and blinked. For a moment, I felt a flash of panic. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe she was going to say no. Maybe she was going to laugh at me. I didn’t want either of those things to happen. I wanted her to say that we were absolutely friends, but either way, I felt relieved that I’d asked.

The panic I felt waiting for her answer finally subsided as she gave me a reassuring look and said, “Of course we’re friends.”

I studied her closely to see if she actually meant what she said or if she was just trying to sugarcoat the situation. Her smile seemed natural and she was looking right at me, so I felt relatively comfortable believing her.

While her words gave me some comfort, it also stirred up a plethora of follow-up questions. “W-w-why d-d-don’t y-y-you t-t-t-t…” I sighed deeply. I probably wouldn’t be able to get anything out, but I had to keep trying.

“Why don’t I what?”

“T-t-talk t-to me at sc-school?”

The look of confusion faded as she ran her hands through her hair and let out a low breath before biting her lip. “This week was just… It wasn’t you. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

That wasn’t a reason or an explanation. It was avoidance and it was clear to me what the problem was. She thought we could be friends outside of school, but while we were there... I really couldn’t blame her. I knew she wouldn’t want to be tied to a social pariah like me.

“I-is it b-because of hhhhhow I t-t-t-taaaaalk?”

She sighed and looked extremely annoyed. I felt really small and wished for the millionth time that I could be like David and Jane and just be comfortable and fit in, or at least act like it.

She leveled me with those intensely blue eyes. “You’re not listening, Elliott. It’s not
you,
okay?” She shook her head and pointed to herself. “I’m not…Look, we’re friends, okay? And I don’t care about your stutter. I’d much rather listen to you talk than that idiot Anderson, but I’m not like all the other kids. I don’t…” She huffed. “I don’t
talk
to friends at school. I mean, really, have you seen me really have a conversation with anybody? Chris? I think you’ve already figured out he’s not even close to being my friend. And everyone else is just…filler.”

While it was true that typically I only really saw her talk to Anderson, and it was never in a
friendly
way, there was a piece missing. “W-what about J-J-Jason?”

She ran her hands through her hair again and pulled it to the side, leaving her neck exposed. I tried not to look. I tried not to focus on how smooth her skin was. I tried not to see that I could pick up the rhythm of her heart by watching the pulsing vein in her neck. I tried not to see the four small raised marks that looked like the tines of a fork.

“You want to come out to the woods with us during Study Hall and smoke pot? If so, you’re invited. Jason’s…well, he’s a family friend. I used to go hiking with him when I was a kid.”

She stood up, turning her back to me as she began looking at my books again, her slender fingers gliding along the spines. Her fingernails were short, unlike Jane or Rebecca’s, and she had little nicks and scars on her fingers and hands. “I never took you for someone who
wanted
to talk at school. Every time you do and a dick like Anderson says something, you go all quiet and look like you can’t breathe. If you really want to have public conversations, we can…”

“N-no.” That was
not
what I wanted. She was right about Anderson, and about me. “I-I-I just w-w-wanted to know if w-w-we were f-friends.”

Sophie turned around. Again, she leveled a look at me. “Well, why wouldn’t we be?”

Because she was so much better than I was. Because she was normal and I wasn’t. Because she could be friends with anyone and I pretty much had nothing to offer.

I shrugged. If I was going to take her at face-value, then I could assume we were, in fact, friends, so asking her to do something with me in that capacity should be no big deal. After all, she asked me to go to the movies with her last weekend.

So why did my chest feel like it was about to explode? If she already confirmed we were friends, why was I dreading her rejection?

“S-So-Sophie?” She looked up. “D-d-do y-y-you w-w-w-want t-t-to g-go…”

“Elliott, don’t.” She cringed. “Please don’t.”

Any and all hope I had that I could just be a normal person and have a normal friendship fell apart. I hadn’t even been able to properly ask her.

“Please don’t ask me to that ridiculous dance. I don’t… they really aren’t my thing.”

My hope swelled again. “I-I w-w-wasn’t g-g-going to ask a-a-ab-b-bout the d-dance,” I finished quickly.

“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “Because they’re kind of lame, don’t you think?”

I just gave her a hesitant smile. What I had in mind didn’t require any dancing or streamers in the high school gym. I’d never gone to a dance. They might very well be lame, but I highly doubted going anywhere with Sophie would be lame at all.

“What were you going to ask then?”

“W-w-would y-you g-g-go sssssomewhere w-with me?”

Sophie chuckled and before I could misinterpret, she answered, “Somewhere? That’s a little vague, Elliott. ‘Somewhere’ could be Mexico or ‘somewhere’ could be the library. Both of which I’d say yes to.”

That made me happy. I felt triumphant, as if I had actually asked her to cross the border with me. “I-I-I d-don’t know w-where. Just ssssomewhere. Just to h-hhhhhang out.” I took a few deep breaths. The word “hang” was nearly blocked and I thanked God that I was able to get it out.

“Yeah, sure.”

“D-do you w-w-want to g-g-go t-tomorrow?”

She frowned. “Oh, shit, I can’t.”

I must have made a face because she said, “I’m not just blowing you off, Elliott, but unless you want to drop some acid with me tomorrow, I’m going solo.”

That wasn’t the response I’d anticipated. I was expecting the normal girl letdown responses. “W-w-w-why a-ar-are you g-g-g-going to d-dr…”

“Because Damascus is a boring-ass town and I haven’t tripped in a while.”

“Do y-y-you lllllllike i-it?” I sighed. Obviously she liked it. I was such an idiot. “I-I m-mean,
w-w-why
d-d-do y-you lllllike it?”

Her expression changed and she got defensive. “Why don’t
you
tell Anderson to fuck off?”

“I-I-I w-w-wasn’t j-j-judging you, S-SSSophie. J-just asking.”

She flopped down on the couch and raised a hand up into the air, watching as she made her fingers dance. “You obviously don’t like that I enjoy drugs.”

I wanted to protest and let her know I wasn’t judging her even though I
hated
that she did drugs, but she kept going, answering my question.

“I partake in pharmaceutical and psychotropic drugs because I like that version of reality better. Have you ever done any drugs?”

“Wa-wa-wa,” was all I could say, so instead I shook my head.

“No painkillers or nitrous oxide at the dentist?”

“W-w-well, yeah, I-I’ve h-had p-painkillers b-befffffore.” Sedatives more times than I could count.

“Didn’t you feel numb, I mean, not just that it took away whatever was aching or in pain, but like, mentally numb?” I nodded. “I like that. It makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges. Acid’s awesome because reality shifts for a little while and the impossible happens. This reality,” she said, waving her hand around, indicating my room, my house, this town, this world, “is just an illusion, Elliott. Even something as simple as smoking a little weed taps you into something…more, something better.”

I shook my head, not wanting to judge her, but needing to let her know I completely disagreed. “M-m-my mmm-mm-m-mom…”

Sophie sat up and stared pointedly at me. “Your mom was a heroin addict. It’s not the same thing. I don’t do anything that’s addictive or could permanently distort reality.”

I failed to see the difference, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Look, I’ve done coke, but I wouldn’t touch smack for anything. You wouldn’t know, but rolling on ecstasy changes everything. I’ve never felt so loved and…loving.” Her face shifted into an expression of longing before she looked down. “I…I don’t expect you to understand it and if it’s not your thing, that’s cool, but
I
like it.”

She looked back up, seeming perfectly normal again. “So tomorrow I’m dropping acid and going on a little spirit walk in the woods.”

My heart raced. My breathing changed and all of a sudden I felt panicky. “In th-th-the w-w-w-woods? S-S-SSSSophie, y-y-y-y…wwwwwhat if y-y-you g-g-g-get l-l-l…”

“Calm down, Elliott,” she said, her voice soft, but full of concern. She was worried about me. “Seriously, slow your breathing down. You’re going to pass out.”

I did my best to focus on my breathing, slowly dragging air in and letting it out even slower, but I still felt shaky. My lungs were tight. Sophie was going into the woods alone while hallucinating. People got lost in the woods all the time without acid to disorient them. She couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to hear about her going missing, and I didn’t want to watch as people searched for her.

Why would she do that? Why was she so casual about drugs, as if every kid our age was into it?

“S-S-SSSSophie.”

She stood and crossed the room. Before I realized what was happening, I felt her hand in my hair. Instantly, that chemical thing between us happened and I closed my eyes, my body relaxing just a little. My breathing slowed, as did my heart rate. How did she know how to do that?

“Elliott, I’ll be fine. I promise. The woods near my house. I swear I won’t go far.”

Once again, I sat in front of Robin, waiting for her to get to the point of what she really wanted to talk about. We’d been dancing around the topic for the past twenty minutes. Finally, she said, “It was a difficult week.”

Even though she didn’t phrase it as a question, I knew she was asking me to validate what she’d said. “Y-y-yes.”

“Because you don’t feel normal? You feel different than the other kids?”

I looked down, but nodded.

“Do you only feel different because of your speech issue?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell Robin anything. I wanted to be in my room; however, it didn’t matter what I
wanted
because my mouth opened, as if on its own, and I heard myself say, “I t-t-told S-S-Sophie a-a-ab-b-b-b,” I paused, but I couldn’t take it back. Robin would make me finish the sentence, so I continued. “A-a-about m-my mmmmmm-mm-mom.”

Looking up, I saw the surprise on Robin’s face. “Oh?”

I nodded.