They allow two people in the room at a time, but I don’t want Scott or Cam in there. This is something that I want to do alone. The nurse leads me to the room and I am terrified as she opens the door.
Inside, Olivia is laying on the hospital bed. Her eyes are closed and there are machines making loud noises. There aren’t anymore tubes down her throat, but there are a lot of wires that she’s hooked up to.
She still looks like her. She’s still Olivia—the beautiful girl that I knew when we were growing up. But this is just her body. And right now, I have to tell her goodbye.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” the nurse says.
I nod to her and watch as she closes the door. I take a deep breath before walking closer to the bed.
“Hey, Olivia,” I say as I come to a stop right beside her bed. “It’s been a while.”
I pause, as if I’m waiting for her to respond. If she was awake and I hadn’t talked to her in a year and a half, I know she’d be giving me an ear full right about now.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t come to visit you,” I tell her. “I could give you a long list of excuses, but the truth is I was scared. You were my best friend and seeing you here… well, it sucks.
“I started college. You’ll be sad to know that I didn’t try out for the cheerleading squad. But then again, cheering for the Bulldogs was always your dream. But I have gone to a few games with my friends.
“Friends. That’s such a weird thing to say. I have friends again. Well… three friends, but still.
“Micah is the first person I met on campus. He is the nerdiest guy ever, but I like him. We get along really well and he hasn’t run away even though I’m kind of crazy.
“Then there is Zoe. She’s my roommate, so she’s kind of forced to be my friend,” I say. “Well, I guess she isn’t forced, but I don’t think we’d be friends if we weren’t roommates. We’re completely opposite. But maybe I was always meant to find her. She kind of reminds me of you sometimes.
“My other friend is Cam. And I’m not sure if he’s a friend or not. I mean, he’s a friend. But he’s kind of more? I think. I don’t know. You were always better at this whole guy thing. I wish you were awake now so I could get some advice.”
I clear my throat, trying not to cry. I don’t want to cry today.
“I miss you too. A lot. And it sucks that this happened to you,” I say. “You don’t deserve it. Neither did Kelsey or Matt or any of our other friends. You guys were too young and it wasn’t fair. But, like my shrink has told me many times when I’m whining about how unfair it is, life isn’t always fair. The person you are is determined by how you deal with the bad situations that life throws you. Am I a good person? That’s to be determined. But you should know, I strive everyday to be good because of you.”
I wipe a few tears from under my eyes.
“I just came to tell you that I love you and that I miss you. Thanks for being my best friend,” I say. “Goodbye, Olivia.”
I look at her one last time before turning to walk out of the hospital room. I don’t feel good, far from it in fact, but I do feel a lot lighter. I’ve been needing to do that for about a year and a half now. And I’m glad that I finally took the chance and did it.
Scott and Cam are waiting just outside the exit of the ICU. Scott doesn’t say a word when he sees me. He just pulls me in for a hug and I hug him tightly back.
How did I ever go a year and a half without my brother?
“I’m okay,” I tell him, as well pull back. I look at Cam. “I promise I’m okay.”
Cam gives me a hug too.
“So everything is… good?” Scott asks.
I nod. “I mean, it would be better if I was coming here because she had woken up, but I’ve accepted it. And I’m ready to now continue with my next chapter in life.”
“How very adult of you,” he says.
I laugh.
“So there isn’t a chance your friend could wake up?” Cam asks.
I shake my head. “She is brain dead. When she was shot, her brain swelled a lot and there hasn’t been any brain activity since she came in. I was holding out hope, but knew only a miracle could save her.”
He nods, but he looks like he’s about to cry.
Cam is such a sweet guy. Through me telling him about the school shooting and being open with him about everything, he has been so caring. I mean, even Micah tenses up when I talk about it, but not Cam.
Maybe Camden has gone through something horrible in his life too. It’s possible that something happened and he can relate. But I won’t know until he’s ready to open up to me about it. I will be patient, because I know it took me a long time to get to this point.
We all walk out of the hospital together; I can’t help the sense of relief.
I did it. I faced my fear and I overcame it.
NINETEEN
What ifs.
Olivia died seconds after they took her off life support. The days following were hard. The worst of it was attending her funeral. Nobody likes funerals, but when it’s for your childhood best friend… well, it’s worse.
The church was packed full of people. There were a lot from my old high school. None of them talked to me, which I was glad about. Scott came with me. Cam didn’t, but he didn’t know her, so it probably would’ve been weird for him.
The funeral was beautiful, which is so weird to say. But they had all these pictures of Olivia lining the front—her in her cheerleading uniform, her as a baby, and even one of me and her. Along with the pictures, there were so many flowers. All of them were purple, her favorite color. She would have approved.
I took a few days after the funeral to grieve and then Scott and I came back to campus. It’s been a week now, and things are going back to somewhat normal. It’s just… different. Even though Olivia has been gone a long time, somehow her dying just solidified that fact.
Tonight is Friday night, and I am riding with Cam to Savannah, Georgia. I’m excited to see where he lives when he’s not at school. But I’m also nervous. I feel like I’m intruding on family time.
Cam has been acting weird the last few weeks—since he went with Scott and me to Atlanta. And I get it. It was a lot. Me going to see my friend that was dying was pretty intense. So I’ve been trying to give him some space so he can process. It’s just I miss him when he’s not around.
“Are you okay?” I ask Cam after thirty minutes of sitting in silence. I don't mind the quiet, really. I just really want to talk to him. About anything. Even something as mundane as the weather.
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“I don't know,” I say. “I guess you've just been acting weird since Atlanta. I just want to make sure I didn't scare you away with all my… baggage.”
“Never,” he says. “I've just been dealing with stuff of my own.”
“You can talk to me,” I say. “If anybody can understand emotional trauma, it's me.”
“Soon I will,” he says. “I just… want to enjoy my time with you.”
“Okay,” I say, despite the fact that I am frustrated.
I understand. Really, I do. Most days, I find it hard to even get out of bed, but I force myself to because that is what I have to do. I have to keep living. And every single day, it gets a little easier to breathe.
Maybe something beautiful can come out of all this, like Dr. Sanchez said.
“How are you?” Cam asks me. “I mean, you went to your best friend’s funeral last week, so you can’t be doing that great.”
“I’m okay, surprisingly,” I say. “I didn’t get to go to the funeral for all my other friends. I was in a psych ward, high on anxiety pills. So this funeral felt like I was getting to say goodbye to everybody, not just Olivia. It was closure. I feel like I’m finally ready to move forward instead of staying stuck in this one, horrible day in my life, you know?”
“Yeah, I understand,” he says.
I feel like he really does understand. Maybe that’s why we clicke
d. Different situations, but loss causes a pain that can’t be filled. Yet somehow, when I’m with Cam, that hole feels a little smaller, the ache is easier, and I feel like I can breathe.
“I just feel like I can finally move on. Since moving here, I'm no longer the girl that survived the horrible massacre. I'm just Isla, the weird, loner girl that sometimes stares at random people. I can live with that though.”
“You're right,” Cam says. “That's why my family and I moved to Savannah. We wanted a fresh start. Sometimes I think Savannah wasn't far enough. Maybe we should've moved to another country.”
“But then you would've never met me,” I say, grinning at him. “And think how boring your life would be without me.”
“You're right,” he says. “Most days I think meeting you is the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
“Most days?”
“Some days, I feel like meeting you is the worst thing that's happened to me,” he says.
The best and worst?
I'm not sure what to make of what he's saying. It does hurt my feelings, but I feel like there is a double meaning… and maybe I don't understand what he's saying enough to really be “offended” by it. So I decide to just let it go. I want this to be a fun weekend and I am not going to let my own hurt feelings get in the way.
“Well, is today a best thing or worst thing kind of day?” I ask.
He glances from the road towards me, just for a second, then he looks back at the road. “Definitely the best.”
“Okay,” I say.
At least there is that.
“I'm sorry if what I said hurt your feelings,” Cam says. “Giggi tells me that I'm brutally honest sometimes.”
“You shouldn't be ashamed of telling the truth,” I say. “But why would meeting me be the worst? I mean, I don't get it. Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You're perfect. More than perfect. And I suppose that is the problem. I feel like I don't deserve a friend that is as kind as you,” he says. “Meeting you that night had to be fate though, right?”
“I guess. I don't think anything really happens by coincidence,” I say.
“Exactly. So it has to mean something,” he says.
“It does mean something,” I say. “Since I met you, I’ve come out of my shell so much. You and Micah are the first ones I told about… everything. And if that hadn’t happened, where would I have been when I found out the pen pal I’ve been writing to for the past year and a half has been my brother? And what would’ve happened when they took Olivia off life support. Before I met you, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to face any of that. I was completely broken.”
“And now?”
“Still broken but slowly getting glued back together,” I say.
“I think that you are stronger than you have ever imagined,” Cam says. “You’re stronger than I am.”
“I doubt that,” I say. “I’ll always be broken to a certain extent. But maybe broken isn’t the right word. Maybe bent is a better word to use. I’ll never be able to go back to my original shape, but I’m stronger now, maybe even better because of it. I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did. And all I can do is accept it, which I have.”
“And that is why you’re stronger than me. The things that’s happened to me and to my family—I don’t know how to accept it. I can’t accept it,” he says. “And I want to tell you. So badly, I do. But I know that if you find out, you won’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
“Cam, I don’t think there is anything that could cause me to not be friends with you,” I say. “I don’t know what it is that you did that you think is so bad, but it can’t be that bad. I know you. You’re a kind person.”
“I worry about that sometimes… that I’m not good. I mean, look at my family—my dad and mom are messed up people. And… well… anyway, I just worry that I’m going to end up like them,” he says. “I want to be a good person.”
“You don’t wake up one day and decide to not be a good person,” I say. “It’s something that happens over a long period of time. Just little things here and there until you’re bad. So don’t worry about that.”
“Do you think Derek was a bad person?” Cam asks.
“I should answer yes, but I don’t think he was,” I say. “He was a sixteen-year-old boy who was bullied and hurt and confused. I don’t know what his home life was like. Maybe he didn’t come from a happy home. Maybe there were a lot of things that made him snap… But there were warning signs, right? There had to be.”
“Maybe,” Cam says. “Is there anything you regret not doing?”
“Of course. I wish I had stood up for him more. I wish I would’ve told a teacher what was going on,” I say. “I invited him out often to hang out. He even came to my house once to play videos games with me and Scott. But I wish I had invited him more often or pushed him to come when he said no. I wish I could’ve been a better friend for him. But it’s too late to think about those things now. All I can do is be a better friend to who is in my life now.”
“I’m glad you were his friend, though,” Cam says. “You tried, which is more than probably a lot of people did.”
“Maybe. Or maybe not,” I say. “Maybe Derek Miller was just a sick person and no matter what anybody would’ve done it wouldn’t have made a difference. Maybe if it was the right day at the right time, he would’ve shot me too. There is a lot of what ifs that I have gone over a thousand times in my head, but the truth is, I will never know.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” he says. “You wanna put on some music?”
I smile. “You don’t mind K-Pop?”
Cam laughs, which is something I haven’t heard in a few weeks. “Put on whatever makes you happy.”
And I do.
I rap along to my favorite lines, knowing that I sound terrible. And we both laugh and have fun.
I’ve missed this with Cam. Hopefully now we will be able to move past whatever has been holding us back.
TWENTY
Hope.
Cam’s grandparents own an amazing home on a secluded part of the beach. It’s a gorgeous, two story home. In the front, there is a huge wrap around porch with big white pillars supporting the roof above. There is a porch swing on the front porch that I can’t wait to swing in. I bet it’s beautiful out here at night. But the truly spectacular view is behind their house.
The entire back of the house is lined with floor to ceiling windows. There is another deck at the back. There is a pool back there with lots of palm trees. But beyond that, there is the ocean, which is just breathtaking.
“This house is amazing,” I tell Margret, Cam’s grandmother.
I've always wanted to live on the beach. Or at least in a beach town. I’ve lived in the suburbs of Atlanta my whole life and I want to experience life somewhere else, even if it is just for a short time.
“Yes, we love it here,” she says. “After everything that happened last year, we felt as if it were best to get away from Atlanta. I know our neighbors were happy that we left.”
“Why would your neighbors be happy?” I ask.
They are some of the nicest people I've ever met. The kind of neighbors that are quiet and don't cause drama—why would anybody want to be rid of them?
“My grandson… Cam and Giggi’s younger brother, did something terrible,” Margret says. “The neighbors hated us for it.”
“That seems dumb to me. I mean, whatever he did wasn't your fault,” I say.
She smiles at me, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I think when something bad happens, people need to blame somebody. We were just the easiest people to blame. And even the ones who didn't blame us pitied us. I could see it in their eyes. So we packed up and left. I don't regret it.”
“I'm sorry that happened to you guys,” I say.
“Thank you, dear,” she says. “You're a good person. I always knew you would be.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Before she can
answer, Cam walks into the room.
“Nice view, huh?” he says, walking up between Margret and me.
“Very nice,” I say. “It's so beautiful here.”
“I'm going to go check on Giggi,” Margret says, and then walks from the room.
I turn to look at Cam, who is watching me.
“Your grandmother told me you have a younger brother,” I say.
“Had,” he says.
One single word.
But I know exactly what he means.
His little brother is dead.
“I'm sorry,” I say.
He shrugs his shoulders. “It's not your fault.”
“I'm not a stranger to loss,” I say. “I'm saying sorry because I hate that you've had to go through what you have. I don't know what I would've done if Scott had been at school that afternoon. I thank God every single day that he happened to be sick that day.”
“My brother wasn't a good person,” Cam says, looking out the window. “Nobody came to his funeral besides my family and the cops that were there to keep others away. There weren't happy words spoken about him. And I felt bitter the whole time… numb.”
“What did you brother do?” I ask.
Cam turns to look at me. “The world saw my little brother as a monster. And I can't blame them for thinking that. But I saw him as my brother. The same brother who I protected from my mother when she was drunk and wanted to use us as a punching bag. He's the brother who played video games with me. The brother I used to binge watch our favorite TV shows with. He wasn't a bad guy to me.”
“Of course not,” I say.
“You don't understand,” Cam says. “My brother was a monster. He did horrible, horrible things.”
“It doesn't matter,” I say. “He's your brother. It's okay to love him unconditionally.”
“Isla, my brother is Derek Miller.”
My ears start to ring and the room starts to spin.
“What?” I ask.
He says something else, but I can't hear him over the loud ringing. My heart is thumping hard and my stomach is in knots. I run towards the door, not even sure how my legs are working. As soon as my feet hit the sand, I fall down on my knees and vomit onto the ground.
The Day My Life Began Page 12