I have no idea what I was waiting for or why, but I did know for whom I was a bundle of nerves and anxiety for, but the radio silence has been shocking.
I don’t know why I was expecting to hear something from Julian or why I was expecting something random from him or something dramatic and exaggerated like the carts he sent, but there’s just been nothing.
I haven’t heard about Nathan at all. Nicky says she isn’t sure as well what’s going on. The media hasn’t talked about me or Julian, but there is still an ongoing investigation on the Matthews.
It’s in the waiting that I finally saw how pathetic I really am, how I say one thing but feel the other.
I was a mess and I needed to change. I needed change. Period.
So, it’s with that reckoning, come to Jesus moment that has led me here today, with some decisions made after all this time.
I stare at my face in the mirror, studying my face. While most bruises, the black eye and everything else is almost healed, I still sometimes feel like I have blood on my face, blood in my mouth and my hair cold and matted with blood.
I don’t have any visible scars, and my head aches here and there. The gunshot wound is healing up nicely and Nicky bought me a cream for the scars on my body from where Sean beat me with the pipe.
All things considered, I’m physically getting better.
When I was discharged from the hospital the same day as the cryptic text that had both Cole and Liam transform into fucking black ops agents who personally escorted Nicky and from the hospital as if they were expecting us to be attacked like this is fucking movie, the doctor who signed my release forms with pity in his eyes as he looked at me, ordered me to stay in bed for at least two weeks.
At first, I’d thought he knew I was faking amnesia, so I had to quickly snap into character. I put on the best act of my life by crying, claiming to be overwhelmed by everything I’ve lost and things I’ll never really know about what happened to me.
In a way, I was moaning that loss while but now, I’m no longer in room 498, my sobs are for something else.
I’ve had two check-ups since then. I’ve been recommended and shrink who I only saw twice and then bailed.
I was told I can resume my usual activities, but even then, those said activities were limited to slow, easy movements which is laughable because no one gave me that memo when Julian made me come in that hospital room.
Cole went back to college. I knew he was missing a lot of fun college freshman stuff what with driving back to Palos Verdes just to check on me and his best friend. But as a first draft pick and star freshman football player, he has to be at school and not nurse us back to life like the wight of that is his responsibility.
I watch all his games online, but I get the sense that he’s been flustered lately, a bit pissed off, but he never fails to FaceTime me everyday.
“Urgh, why do we have to FaceTime all the time? I don’t really feel like being seen,” I had complained on one of our calls. All he does is laugh.
“Yeah, well I need physical evidence that you’re really okay or else I’ll break every fucking road rule just so I can get to you within two hours tops.”
“It’s a six-hour drive,” I deadpan.
“Exactly.”
“You wouldn’t make it.”
“Wanna bet?”
I’ve since learned my lesson about betting against Cole. The guy is just incredible. I loved that he called everyday but in our calls, he never once talks about Julian, not even by accident and it drives me crazy!
Imagine how fucking hard that is when the guy is your best friend?
I tried fishing for information without actually mentioning Julian’s name.
“So, do you have a roommate?”
“Wanna see who’s in my room?” He’d ask, smiling knowingly. Flustered, I just shook my head, frustrated at the none answers he gives me.
Urgh, he’s so tight lipped. I hate it!
Then there’s Liam.
He’s been visiting every single day. He hasn’t missed a day of visiting me since I was discharged from the hospital.
Sometimes, he ditches school in the middle of the day just to spend the day with me in my large bed… well, we watch movies and debate about jelly vs ice-cream and every stupid thing you can think of. It’s always silly stuff, but I can tell something’s eating at him and well, I’m not exactly the poster child for mental health and vitality so, I just go along with it. So long as he’s not asking me about what happened to me.
But even Liam doesn’t even talk about Julian.
It’s as if he’s an only child, estranged from a broken home where the mother is dead and the father has another family on the other side of town.
Sometimes I hear Nicky talking to John, but it’s always short and generic, they don’t talk about a lot. I’m still holding out on asking the nature of their relationship and she hasn’t offered to tell me so that’s that.
Either way though, I’ve told myself not to ask about Julian but fuck, after all this time with nothing from him, I almost broke last night when Liam was here, doing his biology homework in the kitchen. I had to bite my tongue and pretend like Julian doesn’t even exist for me as I don’t for him. Apparently.
It’s pathetic.
So even though time has been punishing me, it’s given me a lot to think about.
I’ve come to face hard truths and one of them was that I lied to my heart.
I mean we all do it at some point or another, lie to our own hearts that something is going to be all right when the truth is you’re fucked.
Or when you tell yourself you don’t need someone just because they did you wrong one too many times but now, you’re struggling to find meaning in anything?
Yeah, you know what I mean.
“You know, your school friends and classmates have been sending you flowers and get well soon cards at the old home,” Mom says as she comes in my new room.
Yeah, we’re no longer at my old home/Courtney’s blackmail lair.
Somewhere between the time I was kidnapped, then rescued by the one person who’s been fighting for me from the moment we met, and my time in the hazy coma, Nicky got a job and then she went apartment hunting and scored this beauty.
It’s a cute two bedroom, with a beautiful kitchen with every appliance imaginable but I know she only got it for the pretty view from the balcony in the living room that overlooks the beach.
This is enough for her and I’m glad. There are still boxes around. When I was out, apparently, she went packed all my stuff and moved it here and for that, I’m grateful. I can’t imagine going to knock on Courtney’s door and seeing her face. It’s just too much.
“Did you hear me, Mia?” Mom asks again. It’s still weird calling her that, but I guess we’re both adjusting.
“I’m in the bathroom,” I call from my own en-suite. “What flowers and cards?”
“I guess from your friends at school. I didn’t want to give that witch our new address, but I can swing by today and pick them all up.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, entering my room. “She can have them and read all the cards.”
“Uh,” she hums, looking at me wide-eyed. “Where are you going?”
“To Clintwood Academy.”
She’s silent for a bit with a quizzical look on her face.