“I know,” I whispered.
“Having a personality like hers tends to ignite fierce creativity coupled with brilliant flashes of understanding. She’s not depressed because of a defective gene. She’s depressed because she lost her only son and her intricate, beautiful mind is thinking through it all. She’s going to be fine. Even stronger than before, once she’s finished forging through this jungle.”
His shoulders hunched and he put his hands in his pockets, rattling his change. “You’re stronger than your mother. You always have been. I know that Wyatt had that little nickname for you and, to tell you the truth, it always bothered me a little. He loved how tender you are, how willing you are to love others, to help others, to cry with others. That’s beautiful…but it’s not fragile.”
“But what if I really do break one day?” I said. “It’s not out of the realm of possibility, is it?”
He met my eyes and gave me everything he had to give after this eternal day. “No one is perfect. We’ve all got quirks in our bodies and minds that create the canvas for our lives. But there’s no need for you to break when help is near. You have so many people who love you and want the best for you.”
He said goodnight and shut my door behind him. I heard him go into his room alone. I took little bites of pizza and stared at my phone as it powered up. I knew I wasn’t ready for messages from Tennyson and others who said things that revealed their inability to walk a hard mile with me. They would say, “Love ya,” instead of, “I love you,” and I hated that.
But I was starving for Henry, and I hoped I wasn’t too late to tell him about Wyatt on my own terms.
The messages were stacked up—text and email. I’d missed twenty-five calls—most of those from Henry. I touched his name and waited while the cell towers found him.
“Meg,” he said. And then nothing. His breathing sounded tortured. I recognized the sound because my breathing sounded the same. He knew.
His name came out like a sob. “Henry, I’m sorry.”
“No, no, no, no. Don’t apologize. Where are you? Can I come see you?”
“I’m in Pittsburgh. We had to leave really fast and I wanted to call, but…”
“Whoa…back up. You had to leave really fast? Are you there for good?”
“No.” I scooted down in my old bed and buried myself under a blanket, the light of the phone glowed around me. “It’s so screwed up. We’re coming home tomorrow.”
“Thank God.”
“Tell me how you heard about my brother.”
He was in bed, too. I heard him moving around under his blankets. “The email that everyone forwarded around. I got it from Thanet who got it from who knows where. I’m really sorry.”
“What did it say?” I whispered.
“Meg—”
“What did it say, Henry?”
“It was a link to an article that talked about a school shooting. It talked about Wyatt Kavanagh and how he’d been a hero. And it talked about his grieving family.” Henry’s voice faltered and he ended in a whisper. “His sister who’d watched him….”
I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and finger, trying to stay calm enough to think. “That was one of the better articles. Some didn’t call him a hero.”
“We have a lot to talk about,” he said. “But I promise you that this doesn’t change how I feel.”
“How could it not change how you feel?” I laughed. “I lied to you. I said I was an only child. I didn’t tell you the biggest tragedy of my life!”
He was so quiet, I thought the call had dropped. “Henry?”
“I’m here. I wish I were there so I could show you how serious I am when I say this.” He paused and when he spoke again, I could tell he meant business. “This changes nothing. So you wanted to put this horrible thing behind you. Big deal. It’s why you moved to Chapin, isn’t it? Your family needed a fresh start? I don’t blame you for not telling me. One day, when you’re ready, I want you to tell me everything. But I can wait for you, Meg.”
“But people there—”
“Let me worry about people here. No one will bother you.”
I felt my shoulders relax for the first time all day. “Okay.”
“And, Meg? Hurry home.”
THIRTY
Dear Wyatt—
I don’t think of grief in steps. I think of it as a picture. Here’s my picture—there’s a monster eating us alive. The sick part is that the monster choked on Mom and she got stuck—couldn’t get out of him and couldn’t just end it either by throwing herself into his acidic gut. Now she has to live in a place that probably mashes her food up before they serve it.
Did you know it’s possible to grieve someone who is still alive?
Meg
THIRTY-ONE
Kids have way too much time on their hands. In the time it took us to fly to Casper and drive to Chapin, the entire student body of Chapin High had done their research. They’d made the kinds of judgments people make when they are too far removed to understand complicated things. I’d become the hashtag of the week.
“Dad,” I called from my room. “Can you come here for a sec?”
I’d asked Tennyson for her passwords and logged into her accounts so I could see how bad it was. On my screen were half a dozen gruesome photos from my old school and long discussion threads about what else Meg Kavanagh could be running from. Girls had the nerve to talk about how hot my brother had been. Dad stood behind me, reading quietly.
“Well,” he said. “What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?” I looked back at him. “There is no ‘what do I want’ in this. This is what they want. They want stories to occupy their minds for a while. At least in Pittsburgh people were respectful.”
He spun my desk chair around until I faced him, and then he dropped to one knee so we were eye to eye. “I mean are you going to throw in the towel now or hold your head up and live your life?”
“I guess I’m going to school,” I said. “I’ll let you know after that.”
He leaned toward me and kissed my forehead. “It’ll blow over, honey. They’ll lose interest quickly.”
***
Henry waited for me in his truck and stepped out when he saw me turn into the school parking lot. He motioned me into the space next to him, his face tight with concern. I unlocked the passenger door of the Jeep and he climbed in, pushing the seat back so he’d fit. He reached for me and gathered me as close as the gearshift would allow, burying his face in my hair. I tilted his face up because I wanted to see if his eyes had changed.
Holding his cheeks in my palms I stared and stared, looking for telltale signs of pity, but I just saw sweetness and Henry. I saw the little flecks of gold and the way his pupils always seem a little dilated, larger than everyone else’s. And I saw myself. Henry held my gaze for as long as I wanted him to and when I blinked he looked down and smiled.
“Find what you were looking for?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“I haven’t read anything else about you, Meg. Nothing. I’ve deleted everything people have sent me.”
I nodded. Somehow I’d known he would do that.
“Whatever it is you think I know, I don’t. I don’t know it, that is.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“I missed you so much.” He smoothed his hand down my hair. “I like this pink on you. It’s nice.”
I glanced down at the sweater I’d worn, glad to see that it was clean. “What do ranchers do in late November in Wyoming?”
He chuckled. “Mostly it’s about cattle right now. Keeping ’em alive and healthy while it’s cold, and getting them to auction.”
“You’re always so busy.” I touched the tip of his nose with my index finger. “Riding the range and roping those cow babies.”
He laughed. “I am. But I’ll never be too busy for you.”
“Can the cows do without you after school today?”
“What about the bookstore?” he said, pressin
g his fingers between mine and squeezing. “Don’t you have to work?”
“I emailed Annie this morning and told her I couldn’t come in today. She’s fine.”
Henry’s mouth curved into the sweetest smile. “I guess I’ll email the cows, then, and tell them their dinner will be late.”
“Good,” I said. “I have so much to tell you.”
***
We walked to English together. People watched me with looks that were mixtures of pity and admiration. Some who’d never given me a second thought before now stared or said hello.
Mr. Landmann handed me a note from the office when we came into his classroom. “Take all the time you need,” he said. “I’ll make sure you get today’s notes.” I glanced at Henry once and then headed to the office.
Ms. Ewing closed her door, silencing the hallway noise that spilled into the main office. “How are you?” she said.
“Shocked,” I said.
“No doubt. I’m sorry it had to come out this way, Meg. I wish we all had more control over our private lives, but technology makes that impossible. I guess I just had my fingers crossed for you that no one would get curious about you and Google your name.”
“I was in denial, too.”
“I did it when I first heard from your principal.” She wiggled her fingers like she was typing on a keyboard. “I searched your name to see how much was out there.” Her eyes and mouth drew tight. “Have you done that?”
“No, ma’am. I lived it, why would I want to read about it?”
Ms. Ewing nodded, spinning side to side in her chair like a nervous child. “Probably best,” she said. “For now, I’m listening to what’s being said in the hallways and classrooms. I’m watching to make sure you’re safe and comfortable here. I need you to let me know how else I can help you.”
“I’ll see how today goes.” I shrugged because, really, I had no idea how to answer her. “That’s all I can do.”
I missed most of English and spent the morning in a daze, trying to make it through the day so I could see Henry again. At lunch, the discussion centered around who had outed me on social media. Tennyson surprised us all when she slammed her fist on the table. The sound nearly sent me running. I thought I was past startling at every loud noise.
“It doesn’t matter which a-hole started it,” she said. “All that matters now is that we end it.” Everyone stared at her until she said, “Meg’s still our Meg, right? So what about all that other crap? We protect our own.”
She put her arms around me. “Now, the best thing for you to do would be to go out with us tonight and get wasted.”
“Tennyson,” Henry growled. “Enough.”
“God, Henry,” she said. “Relax. Girls have their own way of dealing. You wouldn’t get it.”
“I get that you need to back off a little,” he said.
She shrugged her shoulders as the bell rang for next period.
At the end of the day, I found a note from Henry in my locker—Group project meeting in physics. I’ll meet you here ASAP. Love, Henry Porter Whitmire. I smiled, running my fingertips over his Love.
The halls emptied out completely within five minutes and it felt strange being alone. I had the misfortune of having a locker next to one of the athletic locker rooms. The hall constantly reeked of sweat and other things that I couldn’t place.
I decided to waste some time organizing. I hauled the green plastic trash can close to me and started reading through papers and throwing things away. About fifteen minutes into my cleaning frenzy, I heard laughter coming from the locker room. It was that laughter that only happens when a group of testosterone junkies gets together to do something totally sophomoric. I didn’t think much about it until I very clearly heard Thanet’s voice. It was unmistakable, of course, because of his CP.
At first I thought he might be telling a story, a joke, which made them laugh. But there was something not quite right. I knew the moods of Thanet’s speech patterns and this was a mood I hadn’t heard since my first day at Chapin High.
I put my ear to the door and heard Grayson say something. Thanet argued, and did a pretty good job of standing up for himself, but then I heard a crash, like a bench had been turned over, then shuffling and a struggle. Thanet moaned.
In the quiet after, I found myself counting the seconds of silence…one…two…If I didn’t hear anything by the time I got to five, I was going to have to go in there. When I whispered four, I heard Thanet say something that ended with my name and then several guys laughed. Just as I steeled my nerve to open the door, Grayson yanked it open, sucking my hair into the vacuum created.
I put my head down and got ready to charge, but before I could move, an enormous, sweaty hand pressed into my chest and pushed me back. “What up, Meg Kavanagh?” he said. Then he looked back over his shoulder. “Than-et, your babysitter’s here.”
“What did you do to him, Grayson?”
“We didn’t do anything to him. He’s just hanging out, helping us put up equipment.”
“I don’t believe you. I heard him!”
“See for yourself.” He opened the door wider and then stopped. “But, hold up, you’re not armed, are you?”
“What is wrong with you?” I said, tears stinging my eyes.
“I’m just kidding,” he said, letting go of the door. The other two guys in the room mumbled goodbye to Grayson and left.
Thanet was sitting on a bench. He managed a small smile for me. “I’m fine, Meg,” he said. “Why don’t you wait outside?”
He was bleeding from a cut above his eyebrow. Someone had given him a towel but the blood still oozed.
“Thanet,” I whispered. “We need to go right now.”
The door slammed shut behind me. I looked around, craning my neck to see if that door was the only way out. The hair on my arms stood at attention almost painfully. I’d felt this before and it had ended very, very badly.
“Hey, for real, Meg,” Grayson said. “I’m sorry about your brother and, if I’d known you weren’t telling anyone, I wouldn’t have posted it.”
“What?” I said.
Grayson looked around, smiling. “Yeah, I think I’m apologizing. I didn’t know you were trying to keep it a big secret. Even from loverboy, huh?”
“Why would you do that?” I said. “You could’ve said something to me before you spread it around.”
He raised his arms palms out in that idiot wants off the hook way. “I didn’t have your info. Actually, that’s why I searched for you in the first place—had something to share with you on another matter.” The smile he wore faltered a little. “I told everyone I thought it was cool that your brother did what he did. I was complimenting you.”
All the anger I’d suppressed for months chose that moment to erupt. I screamed, “It’s none of your business, you moron!”
I came at Grayson with every ounce of strength I had. Except when I would’ve connected with his two-hundred-pound frame, he leaned out of the way, sending me tripping over my own feet and careening toward the army bunker window of the locker room. My forehead connected with the small pane of glass, a pane that was already cracked.
I heard it before I felt it—that unmistakable sound that I’d spent so much time thinking about and hearing in my mind. The familiar pain was the same slicing burn I’d felt for months after Wyatt died. I knew to surrender to it rather than fight. The concrete wall caught my shoulder and bounced me back into the room and onto the floor.
Relief flooded over me and I sat upright. I touched my arms and my head and my chest. I was still together. I didn’t break. It was just the window. Thanet’s horrified face swam in front of me as he kneeled close.
“God, Meg, you’re a spaz,” Grayson mumbled. “You’re worse than Thanet.” He reached down and pulled me up. “I was trying to apologize.”
Then, in the ultimate show of character, he turned to walk out of the smelly locker room. Just before he opened the door, he turned back to me. “And, by the way,
check your boy. I don’t think he’s told you everything he’s been up to.”
Thanet sighed. “Not your business, Grayson.”
“No, but it is Meg’s.” He pointed at me. “Ask Henry.”
The text from Tennyson, asking if Henry’s sisters were blonde, forced its way into my thoughts. Something had happened over Thanksgiving.
When the door clicked closed, Thanet went into triage mode. He jumped up and moved as quickly as his body would allow, bringing me a wet towel. “Here,” he said.
When he dropped down next to me, he was shaking. The cold towel he pressed to my face stung like crazy; I winced and pushed it away.
“Meg, you’ve got splinters of glass in your skin.” He looked around the room. “I need tweezers. Hold on.” He dug around in a drawer attached to a sink and found a first aid kit that had alcohol swabs and tweezers sealed in a package. “Hope you’re okay with a cripple operating on you.”
“Seriously,” I said. “Don’t ever say that again.” I couldn’t handle any more ugliness.
Thanet stilled. “I won’t. I’m sick of hearing it myself.” He handed me a mirror from the first aid kit and then came at me with the points of the tweezers. I closed my eyes. “Breathe,” he said, before plunging a mile into my cheek with a sharp edge.
Closing my eyes made it easier to ask the question in my heart. “What did he mean, Thanet?” I squirmed uncomfortably. His tweezers slipped and poked my ear.
“Sorry,” he said. “What did who mean?” He was gentler when he went for the next sliver.
I groaned because he pretended not to understand my question. “You know what I’m asking. What did Henry not tell me?”
I felt a long splinter of glass sliding through my skin and hanging before letting go. He dropped it into a nearby trash can, and then went back for more. “Now hold your breath,” he said. “I’m not exactly sure, but I don’t think Henry would hide anything from you.”
Thanet rocked back to sit on the ground, blowing out an enormous sigh of relief. He’d finished the operation. I took a close look in the mirror and couldn’t find any more glass. My face looked like I’d fought with a kitten and lost. I peeled my shirt off my shoulder and found a red welt forming where I’d hit the wall.
Glass Girl (A Young Adult Novel) Page 17