Losing Leah

by Tiffany King

  28

  “SO YOU met Amber?” Dr. Marshall asked after I filled her in on my first day of school.

  I nodded, folding my hands in my lap and settling back on the cushioned seat. This was my first appointment in her actual office. It felt different from the sessions we had in my hospital room. More formal. “She was different.”

  “Different from what you were expecting?”

  I nodded again.

  “I imagine she was. The Amber you know was manifested in your head. That Amber could have been purple if that’s how your brain would have decided to paint her. Don’t forget, Jacob was different too,” she said, noticing the look on my face.

  “I know,” I said, climbing to my feet. I was too antsy to sit still. I’d been sitting all day. I wandered around her office, taking in her multiple framed certificates and plaques. The wall was an impressive résumé. I found it reassuring. Dr. Marshall at least appeared to know her stuff. If anyone could fix the crazy in my head, it was her. “It’s just that everything is so different and hard,” I admitted, moving back to my seat. “It was awkward. We really had nothing to say to each other. I guess it’s hard to come up with conversations of relevance after ten years.”

  She nodded. “I know it feels that way. I’ll be the first to acknowledge that life is not easy on a normal basis. Unfortunately, your circumstances are far from normal. You’ve been thrown into a society that is completely new to you. Some people are going to be cruel. They won’t understand what you went through, but that’s the nature of life. It’s not your job to make them understand either, but if you don’t, you’ll have to wait for their ignorance to catch up with everyone else.”

  “They think I’m a freak,” I said, louder than I intended.

  “Mia, you’re not a freak.”

  I shrugged, sinking back down on my seat. “Maybe I am. I feel like a freak.”

  “Mia, you’re a young lady who has gone through a horrific experience. It’s going to take you time to find your place. No one is expecting you to come out of the gate running. You have to acclimate yourself to the culture around you. The young people at your school will get to know you quickly. People fear what they don’t know. When they get to know you they’ll discover the amazing young lady that you are. Don’t let your past define you. Judy deprived you of social growth and development. It’s now time to shake off her oppressiveness once and for all.”

  I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat. Dr. Marshall wouldn’t be saying all these good things about me if she knew the whole story. Everyone was so quick to paint Judy as the bad person, but what about me? What about the bad things I had done? If they knew all the details they wouldn’t be so quick to crucify her. If I was as brave as everyone claimed I was, I would tell them the truth and accept my punishment just like I had with Judy.

  I answered all Dr. Marshall’s questions about school dutifully. She kept spitting out the same advice, telling me I needed to be patient. I didn’t believe her. School was nothing like I always imagined it would be. I built it up as a sanctuary of sorts, but it resembled nothing close to that.

  My session ended with Dr. Marshall giving me a homework assignment. She wanted me to smile at those who were talking about me. Smile? Maybe she was the crazy one. It was an impossible task. I nodded like a puppet, but there was no way I was going to be able to smile at anyone.

  Leaving her office, I pulled my cell phone from my bag and typed out a text message for Mom.

  Her reply came back almost immediately, stating that she would pick me up in twenty minutes. Obviously, she didn’t have the same issues with texting that I did.

  I decided to wander from the wing where Dr. Marshall’s office was located to the part of the hospital I had spent almost a month in. Walking down the familiar halls was comforting. I missed this place. Nurses who remembered me smiled as I made my way to my old wing. I was breaking a promise, but I couldn’t help myself. I knew I promised Gunner I would stay away. It was the one thing he had asked from me, but I couldn’t bring myself not to check on him. My feet propelled me down the hall like an invisible hand was pushing me from behind.

  “Mia, how are you doing?” Pamela, my favorite nurse, asked, hugging me tightly.

  “Good. I miss this place though.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You jest. No one should ever miss this place. What are you doing here?”

  “I had an appointment with Dr. Marshall and decided I would visit G—” I cut myself off. What if Gunner had informed everyone that he didn’t want to see me? He’d been adamant about his request and might have anticipated that I wouldn’t honor it. “Everyone,” I finished, correcting myself.

  “I’m glad you did, sweetie. It’s so good to see you,” she said, giving me another hug before continuing back down the hall. I spoke to a few other nurses along the way, making quick time to get to the real reason I had come.

  The hallway outside Gunner’s room was empty, but I still paused at the partially open door. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too mad. Before I could chicken out, I pushed the door open only to be disappointed when he wasn’t there. Some of his belongings were scattered about, including a partially opened package of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I smiled, wondering if he would suspect it was me if I took the last piece of candy. If anyone would appreciate the joke, it would be Gunner. I thought about waiting around to surprise him, but my phone chimed in my bag. It was Mom and she was waiting outside Dr. Marshall’s office. The surprise would have to wait until my next session. I just hoped Pamela and some of the other nurses wouldn’t tip Gunner off that I had come to visit. Maybe when I got home I would work up the nerve to try calling him, even though I would prefer if he made the first move and called me.

  I made my way past Dr. Marshall’s office, finding Mom sitting outside in her car. Concern laced her features as she took in my expression. “How was your session?” she asked.

  “Good,” I answered, looking out the window, trying to push aside my disappointment over missing Gunner. It would have been good to talk to him although I couldn’t help feeling like missing him was a sign.

  “Did she ask about school?” Mom probed.

  I nodded as she sighed. As soon as Mom picked me up from school earlier she had peppered me with questions about my day. Not sure how to express my feelings without hurting her, I took a page from my new friend Katie’s verbal handbook and answered in one-syllable words. I could tell Mom was disappointed that I wouldn’t open up to her, but better she was disappointed than hurt.

  Mom finally gave up and I felt a pinch of regret. I wanted to tell her everything. To spill all the sordid details, but I couldn’t risk the consequences. She would either hate me or just want to ship me away. It wasn’t worth it. Eventually, she would stop asking.

  Jacob was climbing from his car with pizzas in hand when Mom pulled into our driveway ten minutes later. The passenger side of his car opened and a familiar figure stepped out. I’d barely talked to him a few nights prior and really didn’t even thank him appropriately for pulling me out of the pool.

  “Hey, Kevin. How’s your mom liking her new job?” Mom greeted him as we all entered the house together.

  “She’s in heaven. Dad says she could be picking up litter on the side of the road and she’d still be happy to be out of the house.”

  “After six years of taking care of triplets, I can’t say I blame her. Are the younger kids enjoying school?”

  “They are. They might be driving their teacher into early retirement, but they love it.”

  Mom laughed again. “They are a bit rambunctious.”

  Kevin grinned at Mom as she turned on the kitchen lights. “You can say it. They’re Tasmanian devils. Sorry, we haven’t met officially. I’m Kevin,” he said, addressing me.

  “Mia,” I answered, sliding my hand into his. His hand was easily twice the size of mine. It reminded me of Gunner’s. It felt rougher though, covered in calluses and dry cracks. “Thanks for the other night, by the way.”


  “No problem. I consider it a perk of being a lifeguard to save pretty girls.” He winked at me.

  I blushed as Jacob punched him in the arm. “Dude, you didn’t seriously just hit on my sister. I’ll take you out at the knees,” Jacob said, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

  “You wish, bro,” Kevin laughed, winking at me again. “We both know I’d wipe the floor with you.” He flexed his bicep for emphasis. Jacob took a swipe at him and the next thing I knew they were rolling around on the floor. At first it looked like they really were fighting. I wasn’t sure what to do, maybe yell out to Mom for help.

  She walked into the room, interrupting them. “Boys, dinner.” She moved to my side and linked her arm through mine. “And you know there’s no roughhousing in here,” she added. She gave me a squeeze of reassurance. “Boys,” she said, shaking her head.

  I glanced back at Jacob and Kevin who were already on their feet talking about some game that was on television the night before. There was no anger in their voices and all signs of their scuffle were gone. The fist-sized knot in my throat unraveled. I didn’t understand what had just transpired, but obviously they weren’t really mad at one another.

  “So, Mia, what did you think of Dewy High?” Jacob asked, passing out cans of Coke from the fridge.

  I sat down at the table, accepting the plate Mom handed to me, searching for the right answer. “Um, it was okay,” I finally said when all three of them turned to look at me.

  Kevin snorted, but tried to cover it up as a cough when my eyes met his. He winked at me again. Why did he keep doing that? Did he know it distracted me?

  “Uh-oh,” Jacob said, taking two slices of pizza from one of the boxes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Okay is a telltale way of saying it sucked.”

  Mom pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. “Did something happen, Mia?” she asked, looking concerned.

  This is what I wanted to avoid. I didn’t want her to think she always needed to worry about me, but with all three of them staring at me expectantly I had no choice but to answer. “Not really,” I replied, picking a pepperoni off my slice of pizza.

  “Was it your classes?”

  I shook my head. “No, those are okay. Pretty easy, actually. It’s everyone else,” I said miserably. I only wished Kevin hadn’t been there to hear me complain. Some things were better left between family members.

  “Were they jerks?” Mom asked in a high-pitched voice.

  Jacob snorted. “Momma bear engage,” he said, elbowing Kevin. “Tell me who it was. Kevin and I will have a little talk with them.”

  “I don’t know their names and it’s too many anyway. Everyone knows who I am. They think I’m messed up.”

  Mom clucked her tongue angrily next to me. “You’re not messed up, sweetie,” she reassured me. I looked up in time to see her and Jacob exchange a look. I was about to ask what the look meant, but Mom’s phone rang first.

  “Hello, Blake,” she said, rising from the table as she answered the phone. She moved into another room for privacy.

  This time there was no mistaking Jacob’s aggravation as he grabbed one of the pizza boxes and his soda. He nodded his head to gesture Kevin to follow him.

  Kevin shot me an apologetic look, grabbing his own soda.

  I sat at the table by myself, systematically picking apart the pepperonis I’d removed from my slice of pizza. Straining my ears, I could hear snippets of Mom’s conversation with Dad. He must have asked how I was adjusting. Mom’s answer was muffled, but I thought she told him I was fine. Adjusting well. I wondered why he didn’t come see me himself. Did he hate me? Was I the reason he’d left? I was like a wrecking ball, destroying everything in my path.

  Suddenly, I was no longer hungry. My stomach felt a bit uneasy. I tossed my plate into the trash and climbed the stairs to my room. A strange sense of déjà vu followed me as I made my way up the steps. I could hear the guys talking and laughing as I passed Jacob’s room. They sounded so happy and carefree. I wished I felt comfortable enough to go in with them. Instead, I headed to my room and closed the door, shutting the world out.

  29

  THE NEXT day passed in much the same fashion with the exception that I was able to find my classes without any help. I kept my head down the majority of the time, wishing everyone would stop looking at me. The whispering had turned into outright taunts anytime a teacher wasn’t around. Lunch period with my new friends was the only time I felt I wasn’t on display.

  I practically jumped from my seat after seventh period when the final bell rang. Racing from the building to get to Jacob’s car, I clutched my books against my chest as a weak attempt to shield myself from all the staring and finger-pointing. A bag over my head would have been more effective. I read a book once where the main character had to make it through hazing week to get into a fraternity. That’s what I felt like here, but times a hundred.

  I could hardly catch my breath by the time I made it to Jacob’s car. In my haste to leave so quickly I hadn’t considered that at least inside the building I was slightly more protected. Without the watchful eyes of the teachers, the students were free to glare and jeer and downright cackle any way they wanted. Indecision filled my head, crawling down my spine with a chill. I could run, maybe wait for Jacob closer to the building, but that too was like running directly into the storm. Reaching up to massage my aching head, I felt beads of sweat forming, ready to trickle down my face.

  “Hey, you ready?” Jacob asked, jingling his keys in his hand.

  He didn’t ask how my day went. I was pretty sure my face said it all as we climbed into his car. Maybe he sensed it had been much the same as the day before, if not worse.

  “How about some ice cream?” he asked, starting the car.

  I nodded, smiling weakly as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

  He opened his mouth to comment, but reached over instead and turned on the radio.

  That was fine with me. I peered out the window, grateful that he wasn’t pressing me for details about my day. Jacob seemed to get it. Maybe he had heard his fair share of snide whispering just like I had and already knew everything. Whatever havoc my arrival may have caused in his life, I felt terrible for it.

  As Jacob pulled away, a group of girls standing against their car all shot me a look. They didn’t point or shout, but clearly I was the object of their fascination. I averted my eyes. I was on my time now. They could make their nasty comments during school hours.

  If Jacob noticed them he didn’t let on as he turned out of the parking lot. He was strangely quiet, but I didn’t question it. I was lost in my own world. Just being away from school was a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

  It took a while to reach the ice cream parlor, but the moment Jacob pulled into the parking lot a fuzzy memory tugged at my subconscious. The building shaped like a giant ice cream cone.

  “I know this place,” I said, taking in the faded sign and weathered parking lot with cracks and small potholes scattered about.

  “We used to come here every Saturday before you were taken. It was Mom’s weekly treat when we were good.” Jacob’s voice was laced in a mild hint of sorrow.

  “I remember,” I said in awe. “I always got chocolate and vanilla swirl, but you only liked the chocolate.” The memory wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I grasped it tightly, afraid it would leave before it could fully take root.

  Jacob nodded. His eyes glistened brightly with moisture. “We stopped going after…”

  My own eyes welled up. “Every moment in our lives is now categorized as either before or after. Is it wrong that I’m starting to hate the significance of both words?”

  “Not at all. I know exactly what you mean. We’ll make this our now,” Jacob said.

  I nodded, opening my car door.

  Our now consisted of Jacob and me sitting on the bench in front of the small ice cream stand, licking our cones before they could melt down our wrists
. Jacob was back to his normal chatty self but avoided talking about school, which I was eternally grateful for. Instead, we talked about everything else, like the books I’d read and loved and television shows he had watched over the years that I missed. We stayed on the bench talking for nearly three hours. It was the perfect distraction.

  The sun was beginning to lower on the horizon when we arrived home with a bag of greasy burgers and fries we’d picked up on the way. Jacob had called ahead to tell Mom so she wouldn’t start cooking. Dinner felt awkward and stiff from the moment we sat down. Jacob told Mom where we had gone after school and she became melancholy from the news. She excused herself to use the bathroom and when she returned her eyes and nose were red. My chest began to ache and I looked down at the burger I no longer wanted. Everything was so damn hard. Whatever I did seemed to have painful repercussions. Finally giving up the pretense of eating, I excused myself from the table, anxious to escape the gloom that seemed to have saturated every fiber of the house.

  Mom and Jacob continued to talk as I raced upstairs. Their voices changed from a low murmur to nearly shouting. Jacob was clearly upset over something. Leaning against my bedroom door, I massaged the fissure that had opened up in my chest. It was as if a hook had been inserted with the sole purpose of tearing and ripping my heart to shreds. I should have thought about taking one of the pills Dr. Marshall prescribed, but it wasn’t medication I needed to feel better. I wanted something familiar, something I could relate to. Twisting the lock on the doorknob, I climbed on my bed and reached under my pillow, pulling out a small box of supplies that I had gathered the night before. I pushed up my sleeve, uncovering a hidden white bandage wrapped around my forearm. It had soaked through slightly with blood and puss. Unwrapping the bandage pulled away pieces of scab combined with the fine hairs on my arm. I sighed deeply, taking comfort in the stinging sensation that followed. What remained were the raw, oozing remnants of a burn that looked as agonizing as it felt. I closed my eyes, embracing the pain that felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. I reached into the box and pulled out a lighter I’d found stashed in Mom’s junk drawer in the kitchen. Flicking the dial, I moved the lighter back and forth, mesmerized by the way the small flame appeared to dance at my control. I lowered the lighter to a spot on my arm, just below the already damaged, oozing wound.