When I step off the school bus, I scan the crowd of students out front for Kane, Abigail, or Mark. Even though Mark and Abigail were cool to me yesterday, I still want to avoid them.
Abigail’s words from our sleepover come back: Don't hurt him.
I promised I wouldn’t, but that’s exactly what I’ve done.
Like last week, I avoid looking in Mark’s direction in chemistry. I swear I can still feel the stares and hear the whispers of my peers.
At lunch, I spot Abigail heading toward the lunch line, and I quickly dart out of sight. It’s not so much fear of her seeing me, but of her telling Kane. I wait for her to head for the courtyard before entering the line myself.
Feeling brave, I don’t hide in the bathroom today. Instead, I find a quiet table in the cafeteria and settle in. I have no appetite. Eventually, I give up on pushing my food around my tray until the bell rings, and I head to class.
Sitting beside Kane every day is stressing me out. I hate that I hurt him. I wish things could be different. But they’re not. And it’s better for him in the long run. He may hurt a little now, but he’ll get over me and move on with someone who isn’t a burden. Still, I ignore the notes he tries to pass me and refuse to even look in his direction.
Even though my parents wouldn't approve, I walk home from school. I don't want to wait around for a ride, and I definitely don’t want to be surrounded by other kids on the bus.
Cars speed by, students in a hurry to leave school. I turn onto a side street, it’s quieter here. Less traffic.
“Pull over!” I hear a girl yell.
I ignore the voice—she’s not talking to me—and keep walking. My gaze is fixed on the ground in front of me, ignoring my surroundings.
“What the hell?” This is a male voice, accompanied by tires screeching to a halt. My head whips up, and I realize Abigail and Mark have pulled over a few car lengths ahead of me. Abigail hops out of the passenger side and jogs over.
I nod my head at her, a crappy greeting, but a greeting, nonetheless. Then I ignore her and keep walking, my pace quickening.
“So,” she says.
I remain quiet.
She sighs and falls into step beside me, matching my pace. I hear Mark’s car creeping along beside us on the street. “Where have you been at lunch?”
I shrug.
“Come on, don’t tell me you’re hiding in the library to eat. We don’t bite.”
I shake my head. “They don’t allow food in the library.” I’m not about to tell her I was eating in the bathroom all last week.
Abigail sighs. “Kane’s back, you know.”
I keep walking.
“Of course you know. You have class together.”
I remain silent.
Abigail heaves a heavy sigh beside me. “Can we have some real talk here? I was hoping you’d say something yesterday, and you didn’t, so I’m going to rip off the bandage. Things were good with you and Kane, as far as I can tell. That boy is head over heels in love with you, and you threw him away like yesterday’s trash.”
Her words fuel the hurt deep inside me, turning it to anger. “You don't know anything!”
“She speaks.” Abigail’s voice is warm and chipper and calm, as if she’d only said those words to force a reaction from me. Well, it worked. And it helps temper my anger.
I fight back tears and keep walking.
“I know that Kane is heartbroken,” she says. “I know that you watched him profess his love to you last night, and you ignored him.”
“I had to!” I snap, the words escaping before I can stop them.
“Why?” Abigail’s voice is still calm. I was afraid she’d let loose on me like she did on the guy burning the driftwood a few weeks ago, but she doesn't. She’s speaking to me like I’m really her friend, not the girl who broke her best friend’s heart.
“Because I’m broken. I’m no good for him.” My words come out as a whisper the fight having left me with my previous outburst.
“That’s bullshit, and I think you know it.”
I stare at Abigail, shocked at her words. She rolls her eyes. “We’re all a little broken. Why don’t you talk to him and let him decide if you’re no good for him.”
“I...I can’t.” Shaking my head, I walk faster, running away from my problems like always.
Abigail stays beside me, silently keeping me company whether I want her to or not. Mark continues to keep pace beside us in his Subaru.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I finally ask, risking a glance at her.
She blinks, a surprised expression on her face. “Because you’re my friend.”
I come up short, freezing in place. “I am?”
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. Friends eat lunch and get tattoos together.”
I wince, still regretting the tattoo.
She notices, and says, “I never did get a chance to apologize for that. I’m sorry.”
I shrug and begin walking again. “Not your fault.”
“Next time we get tattoos, we’ll go to a reputable place. I know a guy who can get us fake ID’s.”
I shake my head, unable to stop the corners of my lips from turning up. “I think I’m done with tattoos. I’m lucky my parents didn't kill me.”
Abigail grins. “Will you quit running away from your problems and think about talking to Kane? Let him decide what he can and can’t handle. Please?”
After a pause, I shake my head. “I’ll think about it.”
The house is almost eerily quiet; I can’t even hear my dad snoring down the hall. Everyone has been in bed, sleeping soundly for hours. Except me, of course. My insomnia is in hyperdrive. Even if my disease didn’t mess with my ability to sleep at night, I doubt I’d be sleeping anyway.
Abigail’s words keep echoing back in my head. Is she right? Should I let Kane decide if I’m worth the trouble? Letting him decide means letting someone outside my family know about my lupus.
But if there’s one person I know I can trust, it’s Kane. If I tell him and ask him to keep it secret, I know he will. That’s not what I’m afraid of.
It’s the look of pity my parents and the doctors gave me. I don't think I can bear to see that look on Kane’s face.
But, what if he looks at me the same way he always has? What if he doesn’t see me differently, and he still wants me? My heart flutters at the idea...but would it be fair to him?
Getting out of bed, I grab my backpack and pull out a notebook. Flipping to a clean page, I begin writing:
Reasons You Shouldn’t Want To Be With Me
I scribble my reasons in the notebook. Finally, I put down on paper the number one reason. The confession I’ve been too afraid to make. Nobody but my parents and sister know what’s wrong with me. I have lupus. I will always have lupus. And I will always be a burden on those who love me.
I slam the notebook closed and wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. The thought of letting someone else in terrifies me, but the more I think about it, the more I think maybe Abigail is right. Maybe it should be Kane’s choice.
A mixture of calm and uneasiness washes over me as I switch off my bedroom light. The conflicting emotions continue to plague me until sleep finally claims me.
I’m wracked with nerves the following morning. When chemistry ends, I push past my apprehension and approach Mark.
“Hey,” I say. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
He looks mildly surprised. I haven’t spoken to him since before. And even then, I rarely spoke to him without Kane present. I like Mark, but like me, he’s quiet.
“Sure,” he says. He grabs his books from the lab table and gives me his full attention.
“I need a favor…” I bite my lower lip. What if Mark hates me for breaking up with Kane? He didn’t say anything at the beach, but we’re alone now. No Abigail around to witness.
“Okay…” he prompts.
I backtrack. “Do you know what Abigail said to me?”
He pauses and
looks uncomfortable. “...Yes.”
I chew my lip again, then release it. “I’m going to take her advice.”
Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh.” He smiles, his face relaxing. “Good.” Then he frowns. “But what’s the favor?”
“Can you get Kane to the skatepark after school?”
Mark casts his gaze heavenward. When he looks at me again, he looks wary. “He hasn’t gone out with us since…” He lets the sentence trail. We both know what he means. “But I’ll try.”
It’s the best I can hope for.
33
Kane
Sitting at my lunch table in the courtyard, I swirl a french fry through the mound of ketchup on my tray. I know I’m moping. I’m trying really hard to be my usual upbeat self, but I’m failing miserably.
I had the girl of my dreams, and I lost her. I was so sure that playing the song outside her bedroom window would change her mind. That she would realize what she means to me. There wasn’t a second that I doubted it.
Until she turned her back on me, leaving me standing alone like an idiot in the street with that Sailor Moon speaker.
I try to ignore the looks my friends are giving each other when they think I’m not looking.
“Skatepark, Kane?” Abigail's voice breaks through my pity party.
“Huh?” I feel like there’s more to the question than what I heard.
“After school, are you coming with us to the skatepark?”
I shrug. Every day they’ve been asking me to come with them. To the skatepark, the beach, to hang at their houses. Every time I tell them no.
“You’re coming.”
My head jerks up, and my mouth hangs open, surprised at the force behind Mark’s words.
Abigail gives him a stern look. He rolls his eyes at her before turning back to me.
“You need to snap out of this,” he says. “Giving up everything you love is only going to make you feel worse. Come with us. Get back on your board and try to nail that rail grind again.”
I stare at my fries; lunch is nearly over and they’re as cold as they are soggy. Sighing, I nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Abigail’s voice is hopeful.
I let out a deep gust of breath and say, more angrily than I intend, “Yeah, I said okay, all right? I’ll be there.”
Mark smirks. “Good.”
Stepping through the arch of the skatepark, it’s like I’m taking my first full breath in weeks. The scent of the fries wafting toward me from the food stand is as familiar as antiseptic and bandages. As soon as I’m standing on my board, flying across the concrete, I realize how much I’ve missed it. I may not have Summer, but Mark is right, giving up other things I love isn’t going to make me feel any better.
I glance around and see Abigail and Mark near the benches. Abigail is giving me a thumbs up, and Mark is watching me intently. My gaze travels around the park, and I nearly fall off my board. I must be hallucinating. I swear I just saw Summer standing near the entrance, watching me.
Shaking my head, I focus on what’s in front of me. Now is no time for my mind to be playing tricks on me. I inhale deeply...exhale...force my concentration on the obstacles around me. I put myself in the zone. There’s only me, my board, and the smooth concrete beneath my wheels.
I kick against the ground, gathering the speed I crave. The rail is in sight, and when the time is right, I kick the board into the air. The board's truck connects with the metal. There’s nothing but me, my board, and this rail. I will not fail this time.
It’s over in a matter of seconds. I slide out of the grind. My feet are still on the board when it slams onto the pavement, and suddenly the world comes back. Mark and Abigail are clapping and cheering for me, and I grin. I haven’t felt this happy since before Summer dumped me. I bring my board to a stop a few feet away from my friends.
“Holy shit, man.” Mark shakes his head, grinning. “You actually nailed it.”
Abigail is staring off toward the entrance, her expression cautiously optimistic. I follow her gaze, and my sight lands on Summer. She isn’t a hallucination after all. My exuberance at landing the rail grind is forgotten, one thought has taken over my mind: What is she doing here?
“Hey, Abz,” Mark says. “Let’s go grab some carne asada fries.”
I glance at him, and he’s beaming like the cat that ate the canary. He grabs Abigail by the arm and drags her toward the food stand.
Hesitantly, I turn toward Summer. While my attention was diverted, she entered the park, stopping only a few feet away from me. She’s wearing her taco shirt, the one I had made for her. What does that mean?
“Hi, Kane,” she says softly, staring at a piece of paper clutched tightly in both hands.
“Hey,” I reply. I want to throw my arms around her and kiss her, but she’s not my girlfriend anymore.
Summer fidgets with the paper, and I shove one hand in my pocket.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I know I hurt you, but I did it for you. I’m no good for you, Kane.”
“That’s not true, Summer.” My eyes, stinging at the painful reminder, plead with her, but she has yet to actually look at me.
“Yes, it is,” she insists, meeting my eyes for the first time. She bites her lower lip and fidgets with the paper again.
“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing to the paper.
She takes a deep breath then exhales. Staring at the paper, she says, “I know how much you like your top five lists. So here’s one for you.” She pauses to inhale deeply once more. “My top five reasons for why I’m terrible for you, and you would be better off finding someone else.”
I did not see this coming. I take a moment to absorb her words, then say, “I bet they’re all terrible reasons. Try me.”
I see the corner of her mouth twitch upward, it’s a tiny movement before her expression returns to neutral. She begins.
“Number Five: I’m prone to moodiness.”
I scoff. “And I’m prone to injury. We’ve all got our flaws.”
She licks her lips and continues. “Four: I’m not nearly as funny or brave as you are.”
“Of course not. I’m the funny, you’re the brains and beauty. It’s all about balance.”
She meets my gaze. “Three: I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. I tend to screw things up and I’m told I have a habit of running away from my problems.”
I roll my eyes. “Breaking up with me is the only thing you’ve done to screw this up, but we can easily fix that.”
Her forehead scrunches, as if in thought, and she pulls her lower lip between her teeth again. I want her to stop that. I don't want her to be nervous talking to me.
“Two: I don’t skateboard or do bike tricks or any of that stuff you’re into.”
I wave her off. “So what? I can teach you.” Her reaction is comically skeptical. “Or you can cheer from the stands and drive me to urgent care.”
She cracks a smile, but it falters as she looks back at her list. Her breath is shaky, and the silence hovers between us. Then she closes her eyes, seeming to brace herself, and crumples the list in her fist. I count each second, waiting.
One. Two. Three…
“What’s number one?” I finally ask.
“The number one reason you shouldn’t want to be with me…” Her eyes are still closed, and she takes another shaky breath. Finally, her eyes open and meet mine. “I have lupus, Kane. There is no cure, and I will be sick for the rest of my life.”
My mouth opens, then closes. She’s surprised me again. I’ve heard of lupus. Sometimes we get postcards in the mail asking for donations to the Lupus Foundation, but I don’t know anything about it.
Summer holds my gaze, and I try to form my thoughts into words. Finally, I speak. “Summer, I’m not going to lie and tell you I know anything about lupus. But I do know this, I don’t care if you have scales and a tail. I’m sure you’ve realized by now that I’m a little crazy at times, but you m
ake me sane. So, tell me all about lupus, and let me be there for you.”
Summer shakes her head slowly back and forth, tears in her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
I take a small step forward and smile. “I’m asking to be with the girl I love.”
She sniffles, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You love me?”
I hate seeing her cry, so I close the distance between us, stopping so we’re toe to toe. “Duh.”
She laughs, but because she’s crying it comes out as a snort. She presses her forehead to my chest, and I wrap my arms around her.
“Kane, you have to understand.” Between the tears and her face against my chest, her voice is muffled. “This isn’t something I’ll ever get over. I’ll have it for the rest of my life. I’m giving you an out, before you have to deal with any of that.”
I wait for her to say more. She doesn’t.
“Are you done trying to tell me how I should think and feel?”
She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her nod.
“Good. Can I kiss you now?” I lift her chin with my hand, forcing her eyes to meet mine.
“I’m covered in tears and snot,” she protests, sniffling.
“I’m usually covered in blood and dirt. Do you really think I care about tears and snot?”
She laughs again, and I press my lips to hers. I can taste her teardrops, and I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t care. I’m just glad she’s here in my arms again.
Epilogue
Summer
One Month Later
I hardly recognize the girl staring back at me in the full-length mirror. The blue dress I never got to wear to Homecoming looks even better than I remember. But that could have something to do with my new outlook on life.
Something I'm Good At: A Sol del Mar High Novel Page 19