“To the ocean,” I add.
He doesn’t say anything. He grabs the book off the tray and thumbs through it. I can tell he’s trying to act disinterested, but on certain pages he spends a bit longer staring at the glossy photos.
Finally he asks, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you keep trying when you know how messed up I am?”
I shrug. I stand up and walk over to the side table where his mom has placed all of his Jules Verne novels and his sketch pad. I grab the sketch pad and then sit back down in the chair. I flip the pages.
“Why?” he repeats.
I stare down at the charcoal drawings and then glance up, forcing myself to look him in the eye. “Because loving you saved me. It’s made me see myself differently, see the world differently. I owe you everything for that.”
Before he can respond, there’s a knock on the door.
“Hello?” a professional-sounding voice says.
The door opens and a woman stands at the front of the room. She’s not wearing a lab coat or scrubs but instead is dressed in black pants and a white button-up. “You must be Aysel,” she says, and then turns to Roman. “Hello, Roman. How are you feeling today?”
Roman just stares at her.
She reaches out and touches my elbow lightly. “Do you mind waiting for us in the hall?”
I shake my head and walk out of the room, quietly closing the door behind me. I pace the hall as I try to imagine the conversation that’s happening in the room. I picture Roman’s stony, silent face and that woman doing her best to pull answers out of him.
I’m about to walk the length of the hallway for the twenty-third time when the door opens and the woman walks out. She brushes a stray piece of her dark hair away from her forehead. “I’m Dr. Stead.” She holds out her hand.
I shake it weakly. “Aysel, but you already know that. You’re working with Roman?”
She nods. “Yes, that’s right.”
Good, I think, but don’t say anything. “I hope you’re able to, you know, get through to him.”
She doesn’t smile but somehow manages to look friendly. I wonder if that’s a skill they teach you in medical school. “I’ll do the best I can. You know, I’m pretty good at what I do.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small business card. She hands it to me.
The paper is soft, and I run my fingers over the embossed text.
“If you ever want to talk, or need anything, you can reach me at that number,” she adds. She looks at me, her light eyes soft and kind. I wonder if she knows about Crestville Pointe, about our pact. If Roman said something to her.
“Thanks,” I say weakly, and turn the card over. She walks away and the click of her heels echoes in the hall.
When I walk back into Roman’s hospital room, he gives me a cold look.
“What?”
“You aren’t seriously going to tell me I should talk to that lady, are you?”
I clutch the card in my hand. “Did you tell her about us?”
“What about us?”
“You know. . . .”
He props himself up so his back can rest against the hospital bed’s metal headboard. It looks like it’s a struggle, but he makes it. “No. I haven’t said a damn thing to her. And I’m not planning on it.”
I sit back down in the chair by the bed. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
He sighs and I swear I can hear the muscles in his throat ache. I imagine what the inside of his body must look like—all poisoned and bruised. I try to push that thought from my mind.
“I’m not sure I even know you anymore,” he says.
I bite down on my lower lip. “That’s not fair. I mean, you don’t have to talk to her. But at least talk to me?”
He doesn’t say anything. I stand up and walk back over to the bookshelf. This time I grab Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.
I sit back down and open the book. The silken pages are easy to flip. I start reading aloud to him. At first, my voice is a bit shaky, but I soon find a rhythm. Every once in a while, I glance over at him and see him looking back at me, his face relaxed like he’s listening to the story.
He lets me finish the second chapter and then stops me. “Aysel?”
“Yeah?”
He scoots to move his body closer to the edge of the bed. His movements are slow and labored. “Come here.” He reaches toward me, cupping my face in his hands. I lean in and our mouths meet. His lips are chapped and swollen, but the kiss is soft and light and perfect.
“I’ll talk to you,” he whispers. “I promise.”
As I look into his golden-green eyes, I don’t know if I completely believe him. I know he’s still broken, impossibly sad, but as he holds my hand, I feel the potential of happiness in his pulse.
“And you know what you said before about me making you see yourself differently?” he asks, his face still inches from mine.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s why I drew you the way I did. To try and show you the person I see when I look at you, not the person you seemed to think you were.”
My eyes blink like a bright camera flash just went off—everything is white and gauzy—and I feel more exposed than I have ever been in my entire life. I know he sees me, every tiny and hidden crevice, but it doesn’t scare me. My heart flutters as I realize I’m enjoying the light. I’m done with the shadows.
He watches me, his eyes traveling all over my face. “I guess I want to see the world differently—” He stops and his expression turns sad again. The room is so silent that I can hear the ceiling light buzzing.
“But it still kind of sucks, you know?” he finally adds.
“Yeah, I know.” My whole body aches for him and I wish there was something I could do, but I know the only thing there is to do is stay.
“Should I keep reading? This world”—I pick up the book—“doesn’t seem to suck so much.”
“You say that now, but wait for it.”
I look down at the page, an illustrated sea monster staring back at me, and then gaze at Roman. “I’ll wait for it, if you’ll wait for it.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll wait for it.”
Author’s Note
I started to write this book in January 2013 after the death of one of my closest friends. I found myself in a very dark place, and working on this project was, in part, my way of grappling with those emotions. To me, My Heart and Other Black Holes has always been a story about the people who understand you, all of you, even the scariest and weirdest parts of you. It is about those people who come into your life when you least expect it, in the strangest of ways, and change everything—it is about the importance of letting those people in, of opening up to them. It is about the people in your life who help you to see yourself differently and the true power of human connection.
Although this story ends on a hopeful note, the road to recovery is long and ongoing. In many cases, the battle with depression is a lifelong one. To those of you who may be dealing with emotions similar to Aysel and Roman’s, I want you to know no matter how lost you feel, you are never alone. If you are having suicidal thoughts, you should treat it as a medical emergency. Please, please reach out and talk to someone. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is always open, and as scary as it can be to talk about what is going on in your mind, I hope you will find the strength to do so. The most powerful thing we have is our voice. I have listed some resources at the end of this book.
To those of you who feel you may have a friend who is struggling with depression, please reach out to them. I know it may seem uncomfortable, but talking about these things is what will help us begin to erase the stigma associated with depression and suicidal thoughts. The best thing you can do for your friend is to talk with them or an authority figure. By encouraging them to speak, you may help steer them toward the path of recovery.
Finally, I hope this story has reminded you of the people in
your life who matter. Hold them dear, be kind to them, and remember life is fragile. I wish you all a very kinetic and beautiful life.
Resources
LIFELINES
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
Kristin Brooks Hope Center Hopeline: 1-800-422-HOPE (4673)
Kristin Brooks Hope Center Teen Peer Counseling Hotline: 1-877-968-8454
WEBSITES/COMMUNITIES
To Write Love on Her Arms (TWLOHA): www.twloha.com
IMAlive: www.IMALIVE.org
7 Cups of Tea: www.7cupsoftea.com
Crisis Chat: www.crisischat.org
Youth Suicide Prevention Program: www.yspp.org
National Alliance on Mental Illness: www.NAMI.org
The American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry: www.AACAP.org
The American Academy for Suicide Prevention: www.AFSP.org
Acknowledgments
Endless thanks to Brenda Bowen, my incredible agent, who changed the course of my life when she agreed to take on this manuscript and has gone on to make all of my wildest dreams come true. I am forever grateful for your guidance, savvy, enthusiasm, and belief in my work. I will never be done thanking you. Also many thanks to the entire team at Greenburger Associates, especially Stefanie Diaz and Wendi Gu.
Deepest gratitude to my lovely editor, Alessandra Balzer, who somehow manages to deliver the sharpest, most brilliant suggestions in the kindest, most inspiring way. It is a dream to work with you. Huge thanks to everyone else at Balzer + Bray and HarperCollins—I am so lucky to have you all in my corner.
I have been fortunate in my life to have many wonderful teachers. In particular, I would like to thank Chris Lynch and Pat Lowery Collins for their generous mentorship during my thesis semester. I would also like to thank my eleventh-grade English teacher, Connie Smith, who encouraged me to pursue my dream of becoming an author. On a similar note, thank you to all my former students: I am grateful that I had the opportunity to know each one of you.
Thank you to Dr. Anthony Cavalieri at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital for lending us his expertise and reviewing this manuscript.
Enormous thanks to Brenda St. John Brown, this manuscript’s first reader, who provided invaluable feedback. Love to all the ladies of #twitterbloc, who have been a part of this wondrous journey with me from the very beginning, especially Kayla Olson. Cheers to all my fellow 2015 debut authors—it’s been a wild ride! In particular, I want to thank the members of #beckminavidera: Becky Albertalli (Jim), David Arnold (Big D), and Adam Silvera (Kareem)—I am beyond lucky to have friends as brilliant and funny as you. (Becky, I will never stop sending you Sailor Moon gifs.) I also want to thank the Freshman Fifteens for their support—I am endlessly fortunate to be a part of such a fabulous group of ridiculously talented women. Special thanks to Kim Liggett, who answers every email and helps me chase away every doubt—let’s build that tunnel? Also, many thanks to Alexandra Perrotti (my forever friend who has been swapping tunes with me since we were fifteen), Renee Sabo, Erica Kaufman, Sara Farizan, and Kristan Hoffman for all of their support—both virtually and in person.
Endless gratitude to my amazing family, on both this side of the Atlantic Ocean and the other. In particular, many thanks to my grandpa (who taught me how to grow tomatoes), my grandma (whose lack of surprise about all of this is the biggest confidence boost), and my brother, Brandon Khader—my bottomless love for you inspired the birthday party scene. Immeasurable thanks to my father, who sacrificed so much so I could chase my dreams.
Mom, you deserve your own section because you are the reason I love stories. You tirelessly read every word I ever write and manage to strike the perfect balance of honesty and encouragement. Thank you for everything.
And finally, a tremendous thank-you to Gregory Warga. Thank you for believing this moment would come, even when I didn’t. Thank you for being my floodlight in the darkness. Everything I write is in some strange way a love letter to you.
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About the Author
Photo by Ashley Sillies
JASMINE WARGA grew up outside of Cincinnati, Ohio. Before becoming a full-time writer, she briefly worked as a science teacher. This is her first novel. Learn more about Jasmine at www.jasminewarga.com.
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Credits
Cover embroidery and design by Jenna Stempel
Copyright
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
MY HEART AND OTHER BLACK HOLES. Copyright © 2015 by Jasmine Warga. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Warga, Jasmine.
My heart and other black holes / Jasmine Warga.—First edition.
pages cm
ISBN 978-0-06-232467-2 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-0-06-239112-4 (international edition)
EPub Edition © December 2014 ISBN 9780062324696
Summary: “Sixteen-year-old Aysel’s hobby—planning her own death—takes a new path when she meets a boy who has a similar plan of his own”— Provided by publisher.
[1. Suicide—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.1.W37My 2015
2014021982
[Fic]—dc23
CIP
AC
* * *
1516171819CG/RRDH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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My Heart and Other Black Holes Page 21
