“You promise?” she asks, her eyes melting the coldness that’s enveloped me.
“It’s my job. I’ll handle it. But remember, no more fighting!”
“I won’t hit anyone if they don’t hit me first.” Again, the defiance in her eyes reminds me of her father, a quality that got him in trouble often but made me love him more and more each day.
“We’ll make sure he doesn’t push you again. But could you make me a promise?”
“It depends,” her words make me crack the first genuine smile since my world came crashing down.
“Fair enough. If someone does hit you, before you hit back, could you just run to me first?” I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble, but there’s not much I can do if she takes matters into her own hands.
“You know what?” she says, her small fingers touching her chin like she’s thinking really hard about my words. “You seem like a nice enough person. I’ll come to you first.”
“Great! I’ll make sure to talk to the boy today and his parents. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Thank you for trusting me.”
“My dad trusts you,” she says, her words making my smile disappear as the feeling of complete and utter heartbreak returns.
“Why do you say that?” I ask, forcing the question out of my mouth.
She gets up from her seat. “We talked about yesterday. He said if someone’s being mean to me or hits me, I could always come to you. That you’re the kind of person that’s always there for others.” Like that did me any good before. I was always there for him and he was the one who left me.
I’ll be here for his daughter. “Your father was right!” I tell her, agreeing with him feels weird, but I do it anyway.
“He also told me not to get into any fights or in trouble. I’m supposed to be a good girl. Speaking of being a good girl, I gotta get to class,” she says as she rises from the chair, waves goodbye, and lets herself out of the room.
14
AMARI
I make it through the work day without crying. Proud of myself for keeping it together all day, I say goodbye to Hannah and make my way toward the parking lot.
Right as I’m about to reach for the car door my phone rings. I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out my phone, and see Emely’s name displayed across the screen. The phone rings a couple more times in my hand as I try to figure out if I want to answer or not.
She’ll know I’m ignoring her if I don’t pick up. But if I pick up the phone and she asks how I’m doing, she’ll see right through me.
I decide that I gotta pick up and get this over with. She’s my best friend after all. “Hi,” I say answering the phone, holding it in place with my shoulder while I juggle my bag in one hand and open the door with the other.
I sit down in the driver side, throw my bag in the backseat, then hold the phone with my hand and turn on the car.
“Are you there?” she asks.
The Bluetooth transfers the call to the car the moment I turn it on. “Yes. Sorry! I was getting in my car and didn’t have enough hands.”
“So you missed everything I just said?” she replies and I can tell she’s annoyed.
I nod though she can’t see me. “I did.”
“Okay, well. I’ll be at your place this weekend.”
“What?” I don’t bother pulling out of the parking lot while I have this conversation with my best friend. May as well stay focused on the task at hand.
“I got the time off… so I’m coming over to you!” she shouts.
“Yeah, I read your message,” I tell her, trying to sound excited to see my best friend but knowing that the moment she gets here… she’ll know. Plus, we have the school dance coming up this Sunday.
“You clearly need me there.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’ve been your friend for years. I can tell when you’re lying to me. When you’re trying to ignore me. When you’re hiding something.”
“I’m not…”
“Don’t even try to lie to me. I won’t force you to tell me everything that’s going on over the phone, but you gotta tell me something. Once I get there, we can eat ice cream, watch TV, and talk about everything.”
“Christian’s here,” I tell her, finding that I have no choice but to come clean. Despite how much I think I don’t want her here right now… that I want to process this on my own, the truth is I need her. I need a friend, especially once who understands what this discovery does to me.
How much it hurts.
How much it breaks me.
The silence on the other end of the line seems to go on forever before she speaks again. “How are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m fine.”
“Amari—” she starts, but I stop her.
“I’m doing as well as I can be. There’s more to it than I’m willing to tell you over the phone. It’s just too much to dive into.”
“Alright,” she says and I can hear her sigh. Here we go again, she must be thinking. “Did you see him?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Did he see you?” she asks and I realize that I really don’t want to have this conversation right now. Not when today’s gone by relatively well.
“That he did.”
“Is that why I haven’t heard from you?” With all the questions Emely is asking, she should’ve gone for a career as a journalist.
“Yeah, didn’t really feel like talking. Couldn’t with how much I was crying,” I tell her. “Listen, I’ll let you go for now, but I’ll see you in two days and I’ll try to call you later.” Emely’s smart enough to know when I want a conversation to end. She knows why too, she knows me enough to know if I keep talking I’ll just bawl my eyes out. I hate how fragile I am when it comes to him.
“Call me if you can… if you want to. You know I’m here for you,” she replies.
“I know.”
“I love you, Amari,” she tells me. I know she does.
“I love you too,” I tell her.
“See you soon.”
“See you,” I reply and then hang up the phone.
Shifting from park to drive, I pull out of the school lot. I turn on the radio and start blasting music… increasing the volume of the radio, I sing along. I belt out the lyrics to every song that plays, holding on to anything that will keep the other thoughts away. A love song starts to play and I instantly switch over to the next station.
As I pull over in front of my house, I remember that I have to pick up some groceries before I’m stuck ordering out again. Plus, with Emely coming, the fridge needs to be stocked. That girl can eat.
I drive away from my house and toward the grocery store. It takes me about an hour to get there. When I park the car, I feel my palms becoming sweaty. My mind immediately wonders what the chances are of me running in to him here. I convince myself that the odds are pretty low, that he wouldn’t be going to the grocery store on a Monday anyway.
It takes me twenty minutes to grab everything I need from the store and get out. The grocery store has changed owners and the cashiers are so young I’m sure that they were probably in elementary or middle school when I was graduating high school, so I didn’t recognize anyone there and no one recognized me.