by Ashley Royer
I can only imagine this happening. I wish I had been there to see it. I smile as I imagine it.
“Hey, you have a dimple,” Delilah says, poking my cheek.
I roll my eyes and swat her hand away, trying not to smile any wider.
“I’ve never seen you smile before,” she whispers.
I shrug and continue walking.
Delilah’s right, though; she’s never seen me smile. Barely anyone has these past few months.
Aiden and my dad pull up to the house at almost the exact same time we get there. My dad runs out of his car and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he says. “Do you know how worried I was?”
I notice that his hands are shaking slightly. I didn’t think he’d care if I was gone for a few hours.
“Thank you for finding him, Delilah. And thanks for your help, Aiden. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys,” my dad says.
“No problem!” Aiden says. “I’m happy Levi’s all right.”
“Yeah, same here,” Delilah says. “You guys want some alone time?”
“That’d be great,” my dad says.
“Okay. I’ll see you later, Levi,” Delilah says, waving as she walks away with Aiden.
I could’ve sworn I saw some sadness in her smile as she left. Maybe I’m wrong, as I don’t know why she’d be sad.
My dad tells me we have to talk, which I was expecting. We go inside and sit down at the table, and he has a stern look on his face. He asks me what I knew he would ask.
“Why did you leave?” he says.
I write down everything that happened. I let him know what was going on in my mind. I tell him I needed to be alone in order to figure some things out. I had been thinking a lot about Australia and Delia, and especially moving to Maine. I felt trapped and just needed some time to sort my thoughts. I was feeling flustered and anxious about everything, so I decided to leave. Figured that maybe I would feel better if I was gone for a little. It feels good to let it all out for once. I leave out the part about it being two hundred and ten days since Delia died.
Although he didn’t say too much, he seemed to understand, and I think he felt good when I finally told him something about how I have been feeling. When I’m done, he gives me some new rules to follow. I have an earlier curfew, and I have to keep my door open at all times. I’m kind of annoyed, but I guess I was expecting it. He doesn’t really know me yet, and he’s worried. He can’t trust me, which I understand because no one trusts me.
Once his speech is over, I head to my room. A few days ago, at a therapy session, Candace advised me to write things in a notebook. She said to write down my feelings, like what I’m worried about or struggling with. She also said to write down if anything good happens, which so far it hasn’t. She says it’s a way to clear my mind. I don’t know if it works, but I’m trying. So far I’ve only written in the notebook twice.
Everything that has happened in the past few months has been building up inside me. It’s like all the bad things are stacking themselves up inside me, slowly getting taller and taller. I’m afraid one day there won’t be any room left for the good things. It seems like writing things down makes the bad stuff shrink a little, like they’re leaving my mind.
Candace says there’s a switch inside me that I can turn on and off. I don’t really understand the metaphor. She says right now the switch is on, and that’s why I’m miserable. I’m capable of turning off the switch, apparently, and once I do I’ll be happier. But how am I supposed to turn off a switch when I don’t even know what it’s for?
I like my own metaphors much better. How is someone supposed to tell you how you feel? Only you know that.
I guess that’s why I’m writing in this notebook right now. I’m writing my thoughts and feelings, no one else’s.
A few hours later, I hear a knock on my door. I open it up to see Delilah standing there.
“Uh, hi. I, uh, came to see how you’re feeling,” she says. It comes out more like a question than a statement.
I shrug and sit down on my bed. I quickly hide my notebook under the pillow so she doesn’t see it. She awkwardly walks into my room, looking at my pill containers again. It doesn’t bother me, I know she’s just curious. Everyone is.
She walks over to them and reaches into her pocket. She pulls out a bag of Skittles and takes out a few.
I look at her with a confused expression. She smiles and puts one Skittle into each section of the container.
“Maybe they’ll make it easier to take the pills,” she says. “It makes them seem less terrible.”
I find myself smiling again.
I type something into my phone. “Skittles are my favorite candy.”
She smiles and sits down beside me. “They’re my favorite too.”
She reaches into the bag again and hands me some Skittles. I eat all the red ones first, like I always do.
“Is red your favorite?” she asks.
I nod. I look down at my hand, which now has rainbow spots all over it.
“Me too. I guess we have more in common than we thought, huh?”
I shrug and toss another Skittle into my mouth.
I hate to admit it, but Delilah isn’t so bad after all. She may have been one of the reasons why I stopped taking the pills, but she’s a reason to keep taking them now.
When she says she has to leave, I actually want her to stay.
Chapter Fifteen
LEVI
My dad walks into my room around ten o’clock the next morning to check in on me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly while he stands in the doorway.
I sit up in bed and shrug.
“Do you feel up to going out for some breakfast? I thought it would be nice to get out of the house, maybe,” he says, walking into my room.
I run my hands through my hair and nod. Going out for breakfast would be nice . . .
I hesitantly nod. My dad smiles widely.
“Great! Whenever you’re ready, we can go.”
I know my dad is trying to be a real father and make up for all the time he lost. I think he feels bad about my situation, like most people do. Maybe he thinks some of this is his fault, and that’s why he’s always trying so hard. It’s no one’s fault but my own. I hope he knows that.
I slowly pick myself up out of bed and get dressed. When I’m ready, I walk into the kitchen to find my dad sitting at the table with his car keys in his hand.
“All set?” he asks.
I nod.
He walks outside to the car, and I follow behind. I have no idea where we’re going or what restaurants are around here, besides the one Delilah took me to. I wonder if I’ll ever really get to know my way around here. I doubt it. I won’t be here long enough. I’m almost certain that the longest I’ll be here is two months. I probably won’t get better or my dad won’t be able to handle me. Either way, I know I’ll be back in Australia soon, facing the same problems I had when I left.
My dad talks a lit
tle during the car ride, but mostly it’s silent besides the humming of the tires on the pavement and the radio softly playing music.
“We kind of need to discuss what happened yesterday some more,” my dad says abruptly.
I sigh and type into my phone, “What about it?”
“If you’re ever feeling bad, I don’t want you to just leave like that. You can talk to me, or we can go to Candace if she’s free. Your mum is also just a phone call away, or in your case probably a text.”
I nod. Then I realize he’s driving and has his eyes on the road, so I type some more. “Okay. I won’t do it again.”
“You can say you won’t do it again, but how can I be sure?”
I form my lips into a straight line and take a deep breath. “You can trust me.” I don’t even know if I can trust me. I want to, but there’s always some doubt.
“I want to trust you, I do. It’s just . . .”
I know it’s hard to believe me. I keep on making mistakes that make me less and less reliable. I can’t help it. Things just keep happening, and I can’t stop them.
“I promise. If I run away again, you can send me to a facility here or something.” I know I shouldn’t be making this promise. I shouldn’t have even said it. I regret pressing speak the second I hear it. Now I can’t run away again. I refuse to go to another psychiatric hospital.
My dad smiles a little. “I believe you.”
Great. Now I know he’s going to remember this forever.
“I wouldn’t send you to a facility, don’t worry,” he says. “But just the fact that you said that makes me believe you, considering your mum told me how much you disliked the one in Sydney.”
I feel somewhat relieved when he says that.
I look out the window at people, watching mothers push their babies in strollers and kids walking their dogs. I notice two familiar people walking out of a store.
“Hey, there’s Aiden and Delilah!” my dad says happily, noticing them at the same time I do. “Wanna invite them for breakfast?” he asks. Before I have any chance to respond, he pulls over and rolls down his window. “Delilah! Aiden!”
“Hi!” Aiden says. Delilah waves.
“We’re going to get some breakfast, want to join us?” my dad asks.
I roll my eyes and place my head in my hands.
Delilah looks at Aiden, and they converse for a few seconds.
“Yeah, we’d love to,” Aiden says.
“We’re going right there,” my dad says, pointing to a building that’s a little farther down the road.
“Okay, we’ll meet you there,” Aiden says. They get into their cars, and we all head to the restaurant.
I don’t really want to have to sit through a breakfast with everyone. I’m slightly embarrassed over what happened yesterday and don’t feel like facing them both today. They probably think I’m insane. They probably don’t even want to go to breakfast with us—they’re just being nice.
We pull up to the restaurant, with Delilah and Aiden close behind us. We are seated at a table in the corner, away from everyone else, which is good. It’s a little more private in case they bring up yesterday’s events. No one will be able to overhear. It’s bad enough that three people have seen me in such a rough state; I don’t need other people hearing about it.
“This place has really good scrambled eggs if you like those,” Delilah tells me. She’s sitting across from me. I’m next to my dad, and she’s next to Aiden.
I nod.
I end up ordering the scrambled eggs.
“So, are you feeling better now?” Aiden asks. There it is. The question I’ve been waiting for.
I nod.
“Okay, good. We were worried!” Aiden says. Delilah smiles at me.
I shrug and smile a little. They shouldn’t have been worried about me. I don’t like when others worry about me or my problems. They’re mine, so I should be the only person worrying.
Our food comes out shortly after we order. Delilah was right, the eggs are good.
Just yesterday, I had been running away from Delilah, and here I am now, sitting across from her. I notice that she only takes small bites of her food and stirs her coffee before every sip. She notices me smirking when she stirs her coffee for probably the tenth time.
“What?” she asks, raising her eyebrows suspiciously.
I shake my head quickly and wave my hand to dismiss her.
“Okay . . .” She laughs a little, stirs her coffee some more, and takes a sip.
Aiden and Delilah aren’t that bad. I first saw them as annoying, and I think I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t like them. But there really isn’t any reason to dislike them—and I’ve tried to find ways. They cared enough to help find me yesterday, and now we’re eating breakfast together. When my dad invited them out with us, I was kind of mad. Now, I honestly don’t mind it too much. I can’t think of too many people who would willingly spend time with someone like me.
I wonder if it will last, or if they’ll just give up on me like everyone else.
Chapter Sixteen
LEVI
Levi, stop eating the candy! We have to save it for trick-or-treaters!” my dad says, laughing and slapping my hand out of the bowl. I toss a piece of candy into my mouth and shrug.
Halloween never really interested me. I always just stole a bag of candy from my mum and hid it in my room. It was easier than going through the hassle of finding a costume that I’d only wear once.
“Do you want to give out candy or have me do it?” my dad asks.
I point to him. I don’t want to be standing here all night giving out candy. I’ll probably watch some scary movies or sleep.
Caleb stands beside me, flexing in the mirror.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, trying not to laugh.
“I’m punk rock, I’m acting tough,” he yells.
I burst into laughter, and Caleb glares at me. “Putting on a fake tattoo sleeve and wearing eyeliner doesn’t make you punk rock.”
“Excuse me, it’s called guyliner.”
“Who are you even dressed as?” I ask him, still laughing.
“I’ve told you! Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day!”
“Then you can walk a lonely road trick-or-treating down your boulevard of broken dreams, because no one will know who you are.”
“Shut up. You’re dressed as a penguin!”
“My penguin is cute,” I pout. I cross my arms over my chest as best as I can since I’m in a full penguin suit. “And Delia is going as one too.”
“How adorable,” Caleb says sarcastically.
“You’re just jealous,” I say, walking out of the room. I end up stepping on the fabric that’s covering my foot and falling down.
“Looks like wittle Levi has to learn to waddle,” Caleb says in a baby voice. He starts cracking up and holds on to his stomach as he laughs.
“I hate you,” I mumble, my voice muffled since I’m face-first in the carpet. Even I start to laugh at myself.
Delia walks i
n and sees me on the floor. “Did he fall again?” Even without seeing her, I can tell she’s smiling.
Caleb nods, still laughing.
“You’d think a sixteen-year-old would be able to walk with ease,” she says, giggling.
“I can’t help it. I tripped on the fabric.”
“You’re such a dork,” Delia says.
“But I’m your dork,” I say, smiling cheesily.
That was last year, when I was forced to go trick-or-treating. It ended up being a lot of fun, even though I was mistaken for a twelve-year-old boy in my costume.
Someone knocks on the door, so I grab a handful of candy since my dad is upstairs. It’s still really early for kids to start coming, but maybe Americans start earlier.
I open the door to reveal a smiling Aiden and Delilah. I wasn’t expecting them to be here.
“Happy Halloween!” Aiden shouts, walking inside. He shoves a bag into my hands. “That’s your costume. We guessed on the size, but it should fit.”
What? They got me a costume?
I stare at the bag, not moving. I’m kind of shocked. I wasn’t planning on going out tonight. I especially wasn’t planning for them to show up with a costume for me.
“C’mon! Look at it!” Aiden says.
I look into the bag and pull out the costume. It’s a giant bag of Skittles. I hold it up in the air, holding back a smile. I bite on my lip ring and hold the costume tightly.
“Do you like it?” Delilah asks.
I nod very fast.
“We were so nervous you would hate it! Let’s go get ready then!” Delilah says, a grin growing on her face.
She runs into the bathroom, Aiden goes downstairs, and I go into my room. I put the costume on over the clothes I already have on. It fits perfectly. Caleb would find this hilarious. I decide to take a picture and send it to him. He responds almost immediately, which I didn’t expect. It’s not Halloween in Australia—it’s already early tomorrow morning.