by Liz Hsu
“Ray—” But whatever else he had to say was cut off by my door closing. I didn’t reopen it.
When I walked in the condo, Dad took one look at my face and said, “Where have you been?”
“The lake. And it was terrible. And I’m an idiot.”
His mouth opened and closed as I started crying. Pain racked my whole body. I’d never used to cry, but I’d lost count of how many times I’d cried recently. I could feel aching in my knees and couldn’t close my hands again. It had hurt to press the elevator button. It had hurt to use the key. It wasn’t fair. I was taking so many pills a day. I was nauseous. If I took the medicine, shouldn’t I be able to live my life? I didn’t want this to be my life. I didn’t want this.
Dad walked over and wrapped me in his arms. “I don’t know how you can be so smart, yet so stupid at the same time.”
“I know, Dad,” I choked out.
“I love you, sweetheart. We’ll get you better, okay?” His voice sounded as pained as I felt. “Your life will be different, but it doesn’t mean it’s over. But sweetheart, you just can’t go in the sun like that anymore.”
I just clung to him and tried not to focus on what an idiot I’d been today in so many ways, and how I wished I’d just had the courage to say no in the first place.
I was starving by the time Kevin and our robotics teammate, Dana, grabbed some pizza and snatched up a science table in the back of the room. Today had been pretty awesome so far. We’d watched videos comparing last year’s winning teams as a warm-up to our season, but suddenly the Detroit pizza smelled amazing. It was a long opening day and after lunch we’d start our model drawings before we could leave.
Dana and Kevin were both on their phones as we started eating. “Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” Kevin said, staring down at his phone.
Dana glanced up. “When did you get a girlfriend?”
I blew out some air. Out of everyone, Kevin had warmed up to Ray the least. I didn’t know if it was because she was pretty, blond, and tall, way taller than him, he assumed she wouldn’t give him the time of day, when clearly it was the other way around. Or if those things made him assume she wasn’t as smart as he was. He didn’t treat Dana that way, but then again, Dana was tiny. Or maybe because she was Korean and went to his church. I wasn’t sure. But Kevin had made a few snide comments about Ray before.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Yeah. I think she and Greg might be dating,” Dana said, oblivious to the tension.
“What are you guys looking at?” I asked with a heavy sigh.
“Instagram,” they said simultaneously.
I debated pulling out my phone, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good, but eventually gave in. I’d just gotten to a place last night where I was calm about the whole Greg thing. I didn’t have time to date Ray, even if she did like me, which I seriously doubted. Yet suddenly I was burning to see these pictures. Most were posted by Sean, who we all knew from AP Biology freshman year. We weren’t really friends, but he’d seemed decent then. They had the hashtags #lazylastdaysofsummer and #lakelife. There were several of Ray and Greg, his arms wrapped around her as they smiled for a picture. They certainly looked like a couple.
My throat was dry, and I had trouble swallowing. They looked right together, their blond heads touching. Crap, maybe I wasn’t as okay with it as I’d told myself.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I didn’t need to see any more. I no longer had an appetite, but forced myself to eat my slice of pizza. I felt Dana’s and Kevin’s eyes on me, but what was there to say? Clearly the gorgeous, model-looking blond wouldn’t be interested in dating me. Her ex-boyfriend looked like Greg, so it made sense her new one would too. She clearly had a type. And why should I even care? We were friends—nothing more. This was better. I needed to focus on school this year.
But if that were true, why had those photos made my stomach burn?
I smiled at Dana, hoping she wouldn’t notice my lack of joy, and pulled out our notes. “Okay, we have one hour left here. Can we focus?”
“Did you see the picture of Ray?” Kevin said.
I could see Dana kick him under the table. At least someone had my back. “Ray is my friend. Who she dates is her business. Now, you’re on my robotics team and you’re distracting us from the project—that’s an issue.”
“Burrrrn,” Dana said with a chuckle. “He told you.”
I could tell Kevin didn’t want to drop it, but he was as obsessed with winning as the rest of us, and we all buckled down until the session ended.
When I got home, I flopped onto my bed and stared listlessly at the sketch Ray had made of the band. I needed to get back to my massive amounts of homework, but couldn’t peel my gaze from the picture, remembering how angelic Ray had looked when she sang. I wished I had a picture of that. After being emo for far, far too long, I pulled out my phone and texted her.
How was the lake? What could I say? Maybe I was a masochist.
Her response was immediate. Terrible!
I felt a thrill of excitement at her response, but still sent back, Social media tells a different story.
Lies. I got a lupus flare. And Luke is a real jerk-face.
I sat up. Crap, what if she was in the hospital again? A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. You okay?
No, I feel like yesterday’s guacamole.
I didn’t know what that meant. Sometimes I wasn’t sure what she said; I didn’t know if it was Southernisms or Ray-isms. But you’re not in the hospital or anything, right? Suddenly my heart was racing, and I wasn’t tired anymore.
Groan, no, but lying in bed. Hands look like water balloons. It hurts to type you. Knees feel like grandma. I’m preemptively canceling our plans for tomorrow. I think my bed and I will be having a date instead.
It’s OK, but wish I was there.
In my bed?
My body responded hard to that. I didn’t mean in your bed, just there to keep you company. But oh wow, how I’d love to be in that bed. Crap, now that image was burned in my mind. Concentrating on my work was going to be an issue, but it made me twitchy to leave all my assignments until Sunday.
Oh Charles, you’re my only friend. And then immediately, Here. You’re my only friend here.
Knox is your friend too, I responded, even though her words made me feel eight feet tall.
How? How do you always make me feel better?
I’m lucky 88.
Ha, I hear my bed calling. It says, “sick loser, you should have listened to your body and avoided the sun. Now you will pay.”
I laughed as I read her text. You’re weird, Ray.
She sent me the sleepy emoji. I laughed again, feeling better, which was messed up. I wasn’t happy she was sick, but I didn’t want to think about her dating Greg, either.
True to her word, Ray didn’t come over Sunday. She texted me Sunday night that she was feeling worse and going to the doctor in the morning. Worry gnawed at my gut, but I told myself she was fine. She had really good doctors. The day passed with the usual quick speed, since all my classes demanded nonstop work and left no time for a wandering mind.
I paused for a minute outside AP Calculus when I saw Greg.
“Hey, Charles,” he said as he approached me. “Um, I wanted to ask you in government, but you bolted out of there before I could. How’s Ray?” Surprisingly, he looked flustered, picking the edge of his binder. I guess he and Ray had nervous energy in common, among everything else. “She never texted me back when I asked her.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but with a mind to the bell, I said, “Well, maybe you did something. Maybe your friend was a jerk to her.” I arched an eyebrow at him, and he staggered back like I’d punched him.
“She told you about that?”
“Look, I have class, but y
es. We’re friends. But that’s not why she’s missing school—she’s sick.”
I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm. “Is this about her face? Her sunburn? On the ride home, she kept looking at it in the mirror.”
“She’s, um, sensitive to the sun. Like, sun poisoning,” I said before walking into calculus.
Before I went home, I stopped by all Ray’s classes to pick up her assignments for her. She’d emailed most of her teachers already, but a few had worksheets for me to take her. I swung by my house afterward for my acoustic guitar, then headed over to her place. My place was actually much closer to the school than hers—not that I’d ever tell her I went out of the way to get her in the mornings.
When I showed up at her place, she was in leggings and a ratty T-shirt, her long hair in a messy bun. As disheveled as she looked, she was still adorable. Since she looked like she barely had the energy to continue standing, we sat down at the kitchen table while I went over the assignments with her. Her eyes were dull, like a sad imitation of her usual self.
When I finished, she looked so miserable that I said casually, “I brought my guitar,” gently kicking the case.
She cocked her head but didn’t reply. She’d told me before that listening to me play helped her relax, but I was suddenly embarrassed about it.
“I can practice some here, if you’d like,” I offered.
She brightened just a little, and her eyes sparkled momentarily with their normal blue fire before dimming again. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”
I followed her, then pulled the guitar out and sat in her desk chair. Ray sat cross-legged on her bed, snuggling her stuffed husky. It warmed something inside me that she slept with it on her bed.
I played what felt to me like it fit the mood: “Run” by Snow Patrol. I wish she’d light up for me. I softly sang the words to her. I hadn’t told her, but she was the only person I’d sing to. My voice wasn’t like James’s, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.
When I sang the last note, we shared a long commiserating look and she wiped away a single tear. Then she patted the bed and I sank into it beside her. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her face into my chest.
“You see me, Charles,” she said, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear her. “Even when I’m not sure I want you to see me, you see me.” My arms came around her slim frame almost instinctively. Her warm body nestled into mine.
“I see you, Ray,” I whispered back, rubbing light circles on her back. She snuggled closer and something inside me pinched. I wished I could take all her pain away. After a few moments, she looked up. “More?”
She nodded and turned her face like she was embarrassed by her red cheeks. She let go, and reluctantly I did too. I picked the guitar back up and played “Let It Be” by the Beatles and then some peppier, contemporary songs. The music helped me, too. It was shit Ray would have this for the rest of her life.
After being lost in the music for several songs, Ray touched my shoulder. “Just you calm me down,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sure you have assignments—many, many assignments. Just work over here for a little, if you don’t mind?”
“Sure,” I responded, and her hand slipped away. I missed it. I pulled out my books on her desk, and she took her assignment and stretched out with a notebook on her bed.
I didn’t tell her, but she calmed me down, too. Something about being in her presence made me feel lighter—happier, even when she was so gloomy. Last year I’d been so stressed, and everyone always expected me to be perfect, but it was a lot of work to make top grades, and not everyone liked someone smarter than they were. I didn’t think she’d care if I took APs or not; she seemed to just like being around me, just as I liked being around her.
Despite Charles’s offer yesterday evening, I’d decided to start taking the bus to school. He wouldn’t be able to give me a lift Tuesday and Thursday afternoons anymore, or Friday mornings, so it was time to try to get used to it again. It wasn’t like this was something new—I’d ridden the bus my whole life. Well, until Jeff got a car, so most my life.
Charles was striving to be valedictorian on top of everything else; he didn’t need me wasting any more of the precious time he had. I felt guilty enough I’d let him stay so long last night, but something about him just relaxed me—reminded me I wasn’t alone. I was starting to crave him like I’d never craved anyone in my life. Did he feel it too, or was he just being nice? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to do anything that’d risk what I had with him. I loved having him as a friend. I needed him as a friend.
On the bus, I mentally replayed the lecture Dr. Murray had given me yesterday morning. “Don’t you realize how serious this is?” she’d said. “You’ve already had organ failure once. Next it could be your kidney or something else. This isn’t something to take lightly. Your platelets are dangerously low again and I’m sure your complements will be too when I get them back. We need to get your lupus in remission. You are on the highest dose of immune suppressants allowed. Do you want to need chemo or IVIG? If not, you need to take this seriously.”
It had been doubly uncomfortable under the eyes of two medical students and a resident. She’d wanted them to see the malar rash in person.
I shifted awkwardly with my face to the window, ignoring the whispers around me. Despite a heavy layer of foundation, it was still pretty obvious I had a rash. I refused to feel sorry for myself—I’d done this to myself, after all.
I got to school right as the bell rang and trudged through my first four classes, dodging even more whispers and questions. “What happened to your face?” people asked again and again.
By the time art arrived, I was exhausted and debating going home to nap. But I loved drawing, so instead I settled for swinging by the nurse for another ibuprofen so my hands wouldn’t hurt too badly while holding the pastels.
Becky, the friendly girl who’d been sitting beside me, cast me a worried look when she came in. “Are you feeling okay?”
The snarky response on the tip of my tongue died as I looked into her earnest brown eyes. I shook my head, then tucked some hair behind my ear that had fallen into my face. “I’m really tired, actually. I was debating going home.” My dad and doctors had said it would be all right, but I hadn’t taken advantage of it yet. You missed so much when you were out sick. I hated it.
She leaned in closer to peek at my fingers, which were clearly swollen. “Ray,” she whispered, “do you have lupus?”
I jerked my head up from the drawing I’d started last Thursday. I opened my mouth and closed it.
She nodded and continued in that same soft voice. “I thought so. My aunt ha—um, has it.”
“Really?” I didn’t think many people knew about it, especially since I hadn’t before I was diagnosed.
“Yep.” She nodded. “It’s more than twice as common in African Americans.” Light flashed in her eyes as understanding clicked. “It’s why you moved here, isn’t it? U of M?” When I nodded, she said, “You should stay out of the sun.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I got that memo, thanks. How’s your aunt doing?”
Becky frowned. “She’s never been very compliant with medical advice or taking her medicine. If you take your medicine and listen to your doctors, hopefully you should do well.”
“Okay, um, thanks.”
“You don’t have kidney issues yet, do you?” Her voice was barely audible, for which I was grateful. I didn’t want everyone to know this.
When I shook my head, I saw relief pass through her eyes.
“That’s really good. Just listen to your doctors, all right?”
At the concern in her voice, all I could do was nod. Then she asked me about my family and what I thought about Michigan. We were talking more than we had in any other class; we’d usually exchange a brief greeting before
slipping our headphones in. This was much better.
After I told her a little about my family, she winked and said, “I think you know my brother.”
I squinted, taking in her glasses and quirked, confident grin. “James?” I asked hesitantly. They both wore glasses, and maybe I could see the resemblance—same cheekbones and slender build.
“Yep, he’s been encouraging me to become friends with you, but I’m more introverted than he is. He was the one who suspected you had lupus, or at least Raynaud’s, but I wasn’t sure until today.”
I chuckled at that. “Yeah, he can be friendly. He’s really cute.”
Her expression turned hard. “I don’t think he’d date anyone still in high school, FYI.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “What? No. I meant he’s super-attractive, so it’s probably easy for him to be outgoing. I bet he goes on a lot of dates.” Although James was a cutie-patootie, for sure, I hadn’t seen him like that. Maybe because he was older, or just his personality, but he’d just always given me that wholesome big-brother vibe.
“Less than you’d think.” She gave me a sly grin as she mixed her paints. “He’s actually kind of a goody-goody and normally only dates girls from our church.”
“Where do you guys go?” I asked, growing excited when she named a place down the street from the condo.
“It’s cool. They have youth group on Sunday nights, and James and I do choir on Wednesdays.” She must have seen how I was looking at her, because she asked, “Do you want to go with me?”
I paused a moment before saying, “I’d really like that. My dad’s an atheist, but I’m not. He offered to go with me, but I’d rather go with someone who actually wants to be there.”
She chuckled. “Yeah, that makes sense. Gimme your number. I’ll text you mine.”
We exchanged them before I went back to my project. It was slow work today with my hands flared up. AP Art required a portfolio theme, and I’d wanted to do a theme of juxtapositions. Each image would have a black and white and colored aspect in opposition. Last week I’d created a girl inside in black and white staring out the window to the water in color. Right now I was working on a mermaid swimming toward the surface in color and a boy leaning down to touch the water in black and white. I thought his foreshortened huge hand looked cool.
