In this moment I think about telling her everything. I want to tell her about Scotty’s jealousy, about Matthew’s kisses, about the weird conversation I had with Mom on the phone last week that won’t leave my mind, about the losing battle I’m having with my own emotions, about dancing on the precipice of self-harming.
The words form on my lips but then freeze. If she doesn’t like Matthew now, what would she think if she knew I kissed him? If she knew how fragile I really was becoming would she think I was a freak? Would she become too motherly or distance herself? If she knew all the things about me from the past few weeks would she still treat me the same?
The desire to confide in her disappears like it was never even there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sitting on my bed, curled into a tight ball, I stare down at my Calculus test I just received back. 59%. F. This is the second test I have taken this semester, and although a 59% is better than a 34%, it’s still an F.
My dark thoughts encircle my body in a heavy invisible blanket that tries to squeeze my lungs and choke the air out of them. In one big wave of emotion I feel myself crashing. I’m letting everyone down. Why can’t I control my grades like I want to?
My grades have to be above average, no questions asked. My scholarships are what allow me to go to college. Without them, I would be a burden on my parents with expensive student loans.
But I’m going to lose those scholarships because I can’t understand Calculus.
As I hear Marie unlock the door, I hastily try to wipe the smeared make-up off my face and crumble a tissue in my hand to press my new bleeding fingertip into. As she walks by, she glances at me and tosses her backpack on her bed.
“Hey, girl.” Her cheery greeting is usually welcoming and contagious but not today.
“Hey.”
“How’d you do on your Calculus test?” Reminded of my failure I can’t stop the tears from coming again. She rushes over to my bed and pulls me into her arms. “Aww… Katie, don’t cry. What’s wrong? It is as bad as the last one?”
I nod and nudge the test toward her. She picks it up and flips through it.
“Well, at least you improved a little. Maybe next time you’ll improve some more.” She gently strokes my hair trying to comfort me and calm me down.
“Why is this so hard for me? I’ve always understood math but this... this makes me feel so stupid.” I drop my head back into my knees.
“You’re not stupid. You just need some help. Have you gone to see a tutor?”
“Yes, once a week for the past month.” I don’t lift my head, so the words come out muffled.
“Have you talked to the teacher? Or how about joining a study group?”
“I talked to the teacher and he put me into a study group with some of his best students.”
“How’s that going?” she asks in a hopeful voice.
I lift my head to level my gaze at her. “I’m so confused at what I’m doing. The group started planning the studies when I’m in class or at work so I can’t make it to them.”
“What? That’s messed up!” She shakes her head and goes to pick up her keys from her desk. “Come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me from the bed.
“Where are we going?” I walk to the mirror and take in my disheveled look.
“To the one place that I know will make you happy.” She smiles and brushes through my hair as I re-apply mascara to my lashes.
“You know, my shift doesn’t start for another hour.”
“I know but you like to be early and you can show me all the new additions and we can play with the puppies before you have to work.”
“Playing with the puppies is my work.”
“Well, then ask for overtime!” She starts to giggle as we walk out into the hall.
Marie blasts her radio with a country song and rolls down all her windows in her sporty silver Mustang. Before we turn onto the main road my phone buzzes. I motion for Marie to turn down her music and answer before the call times out. “Hey, Cassie. What’s up?”
Heavy sobs fill my right ear and she chokes out a response, “I can’t… can’t make it stop…”
I cover my left ear with my hand to block out the rushing sound of the wind as I realize the seriousness behind the call. Marie rolls up the windows to help. “Make what stop? What’s wrong?”
Several seconds pass before Cassie can pull herself together enough to talk. My heart pounds in anticipation but I don’t push her. I hear her take a deep breath, collecting herself. “You said don’t let the bad ruin the good, but there’s too much bad. The voices don’t stop. Even when I sleep, they’re in my dreams. I can’t make them stop.”
“What voices?”
“They’re in my head. They keep telling me how unwanted I am. That’s why I go to so many foster homes, why I don’t make friends, why I lost my brother. No one wants to be around me longer than they have to be.” The sobs start again.
I will my voice to come out strong. “Cassie, listen to me. You are not unwanted. There’s been circumstances behind some of those foster homes that I’m sure had nothing to do with you. And your brother is probably out there tracking you down as we speak. I’m your friend, and once you begin to settle in with this new family, you will make other friends. I know it must be hard always living in change, but change can be a good thing. It can create a new and stronger you.”
“Will the voices stop?” Her voice sounds younger than her sixteen years.
“They’ll stop when you make them. Those voices are your self-doubt.” I hold up my index finger to Marie as she parks and turns her car off letting her know I’m almost finished. When Cassie doesn’t answer right away, I proceed cautiously. “Maybe you should think about talking with a therapist. Adjusting to an ever-changing life can be unsettling, and they may be able to help you.”
Cassie takes a few more deep breaths and I can hear her fighting the tears. “You’re starting to sound like everyone else. I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“I’ve told you before, you’re never a bother. I’m want to help.”
“You’re trying to tell me I’m crazy and send me to someone else because you can’t help me!” She ends the call and I sit motionless. I fight the urge to call her back immediately. She needs some time to calm down. I can call her tonight after work and try again. I can figure out how to help her.
I don’t know how when I can’t even help myself.
I shove the dark thought away. Marie sits patiently and I give her a small smile. “It’s Cassie. She’s been stressing a lot while I’m away.”
“Poor girl. I couldn’t imagine moving around so much and not knowing which family will always be there for you. But I think she really looks up to you, even though she lashes out. That’s how most sisters are.”
“I’m an only child. I don’t know how to be a big siter to a girl I’ve only know for two years.” I stare out the car window at the traffic.
“I think you’re doing just fine. She called you when she needed help. That means she trusts you. She’ll come around.” Marie lays her hand on my arm and I turn to face her again. Maybe she’s right. I take a deep breath and exit the car.