Home > Stay with Me(37)

Stay with Me(37)
Author: Nicole Fiorina

   Someone cleared their throat.

   I glanced up from my cast to find Arty’s wide white eyeballs peering over in my direction. After snapping the Sharpie closed, I twirled it between my fingers. Ollie sat across from me like last time, and he looked different—tired, even. His hair wasn’t in its normal perfected wave, but instead hidden under a gray beanie.

   Jake snuck a small wave to feel out my current mood.

   I flashed my fake smile.

   It was the only one I had left.

   “We’re going to do something a little different today,” Arty said, passing sheets of paper and pens around the circle. “I want each of you to write down two truths and one lie. We will take turns going around the room, guessing which one is the lie. And please, let’s keep this PG-thirteen.”

   As I stared at the blank paper, I continued to twirl my Sharpie in my good hand—well, better hand. Fresh cuts extended from one end of my knuckles to the other, leaving new scars from my manic episode.

   You could tell who was finished by the way they fell back and relaxed in their chairs, small sighs breaking the silence. After five minutes, I still hadn’t written a single letter.

   “Okay, time’s up. I’ll start it off,” Arty said and glanced down at his paper. “I’m originally from Egypt, I have six brothers and sisters, and when I was a boy, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

   Him having six brothers and sisters was the lie. Many factors from the way his tone changed when he said it, the fact it was the most boring of the three, and the exact number he used put up a big waving-in-the-air flag.

   The group called out him being from Egypt was the lie, but I stayed quiet.

   “Actually, I have nine brothers and sisters,” Arty said with a smile. “Okay, Isaac, let’s hear yours, and we will continue clockwise.”

   Isaac shifted in his seat before he listed off his three sentences, and as the truths and lies continued around the circle, disbelieving remarks followed shortly behind.

   Ollie straightened his posture when it was his turn. The battle in his eyes was evident as he looked down at his paper. He crumbled the sheet in his fist and stuffed it into his front pocket before saying, “I have died and come back to life, I’ve given up a life, and I’ve saved a life.”

   Silence.

   A cough.

   Then the comments came.

   “Ollie hasn’t given up a life. He wouldn’t even kill the earwig crawling up his arm.” Bria let out a giggle. “Remember, Jake? How he lifted it off with the leaf and brought it over to the tree?” Another laugh.

   Ollie’s attention remained on the floor before him. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. The fact he used the term “given up” told a silent story of his past only he knew. “He hasn’t saved a life,” I said so low, I was surprised anyone heard me.

   “Mia, why do you say that?” Arty asked.

   “I just know.”

   Arty looked over to Ollie, and Ollie nodded. “She’s right.”

   Jake’s two truths and a lie stayed light-hearted, making sure everyone knew he was gay.

   When my turn came, I glanced down at my blank paper and leaned back in my chair as my mind spoke for me. “I can play any song on the piano, I don’t eat meat … and …”—both Arty and Ollie are going to hate me—”I had sex with Liam last Friday.”

   Gasps and laughs immediately followed, and I lifted my head from my blank paper to Ollie, whose hands were now out of his pockets and over his chin. His elbow bounced over his nervous knee.

   “PG-thirteen, Mia,” Arty reminded me, and I shrugged my shoulders.

   “There’s no way she slept with Liam. I was with him all day,” a blonde-haired girl from Liam’s table said.

   “I’ve seen her eat meat. It’s got to be the piano,” Jake insisted.

   “I agree. A girl like her can’t play the piano,” Bria added.

   The blonde-haired girl stood and pointed over to the piano in the room, her face red and tears threatening to fall. “Prove it. There’s a piano right there, and I need you to prove to me this isn’t true.”

   I had no idea she felt this strongly for Liam. She wasn’t the target of my attack. My whole point was to show Ollie I wasn’t who he thought I was.

   “I’m in a cast,” I reminded them with my arm in the air.

   “Told you she couldn’t play,” Bria scoffed to blondie.

   Instantly, I stood and walked over to the piano before taking a seat. My battered hand lightly ran over the keys, not pressing hard enough to make a sound, but touching enough to familiarize myself with its coolness, its flow, its size. Playing was going to be difficult in a cast. I glanced up to see Blondie’s arms crossed over her chest, Bria with a smirk, and the ounce of hope left in Ollie’s eyes I was about to strip away.

   After over a decade, the wait was over as my fingers danced along the keys to an acoustic version of Demi Lovato’s “Sorry not Sorry.” I didn’t know what had come over me, but suddenly, I was humming the tune, and the hum turned into a song, and then I was singing the chorus as the room went up in a roar. My eyes closed as I lost myself in the music I made, forgetting how good it all felt. My voice seemed foreign but still the same as my eight-year-old self. More mature, more powerful, but still held the natural gravelly sound I had perfected at a young age.

   After the last key lingered in the air, I let out an exhale and glanced over the piano. Ollie hung his head between his shoulders as he slowly shook it back in forth while the rest of the room cheered. I retook my seat and the circle’s chatter died down, but Ollie stood and walked out without a single word in his wake.

   Did he deserve that?

   No.

   Despite my returned numbing state he had previously stolen from me, Ollie was everything I wasn’t. He was light in the darkest moments, he was belief when no one else could see, and he was the indication of hope as walls etched with doubt caved around him. But I embodied truth, and the truth was—I could never change. And if I’d let him continue down this path, he would have eventually suffocated under my truth as he attempted to free a cursed soul.

   Believe it or not, Ollie, I did that for you.

   After group therapy was dismissed, Arty kept me behind to talk about what happened and made me promise never to act out again. Of course, I obliged, telling him whatever he wanted to hear. No, sir. Nod. Yes, sir. Nod. And out the door I went.

   My pace slowed before I reached the corner of my wing. My stomach drifted, my mouth went dry, my breath caught, and I instantly knew. It always happened whenever I sensed Ollie near. My body deceived me when my mind couldn’t. Leaning against the wall beside my door was the boy whose heart I had ripped out moments before.

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