The last one was from Lucas. I’m starting to realize just how much I put him through this year. I was so focused on what was going on with me that I didn’t even realize that this was affecting him too. I was so upset because my senior year was turning out to be miserable, but what I didn’t realize was that this was Lucas’s senior year, too. He had to jump leaps and bounds for me this year, knowing how much he was sacrificing-for me. I never even thanked him. I never even showed my appreciation for what he’s done for me not just this year, but ever since we met in the third grade.
And now here he is, apologizing in front of everyone, for not being able to help me. But something that he said reminds me of what I heard in group therapy. I didn’t cause this, but I didn’t do anything to stop it. Jason said the same thing about his brother; that he didn’t cause his brother to commit suicide, but he didn’t stop him either.
And then I remember the letter. I haven’t even read it yet. Two years ago, Jason’s brother left him a handwritten note, the same way I left a digital note.
I have to know what it says.
“Mia,” I say. “Can you hand me that piece of paper on my desk?”
Mia grabs the folded piece of paper from its place on the desk in front of her, and hands it to me.
I unfold it and try to flatten it out. The note takes up most of the page, and is written in sloppy handwriting.
Dear Jason,
First off, I just want to tell you that I love you. When you were first born, I’m not going to lie, I was upset. I wanted to be an only child-the favorite. I knew that having a little brother would mean that I wouldn’t get as much attention from mom as I wanted. But then, on your third birthday, when you blew out the candles on your birthday cake, and Mom asked you what you wished for, you said you wished you could be like me.
That was it for me. I knew right then, that I was going to be your best friend, and you were going to be mine. That’s the thing about siblings. A sibling is a life-long best friend, someone who will always be there for you. And no matter how many times you fight, you still love each other. You were my life-long best friend, Jason.
Even though we were seven years apart, we were closer than any other person in our lives, because we understood each other. We knew who we were and we were proud of it. After Dad left, just after you were born, I felt broken inside. I felt like I wasn’t worth loving. But looking back on our relationship, I realize that you saw something inside me, that was worth loving.
By the time you read this, I’ll probably be dead. I don’t want you to feel like this was your fault, because it wasn’t. If anything, you were the reason I waited so long to do this. Thank you for being my best friend, Jason. I know that we only ever had each other, but this is the right thing to do. I’m hoping that you and Mom will be able to find peace after I’m gone; you’re going to need each other now, more than ever. Stay close to her. She needs you.
I love you, Jason. And even though I’m gone, I’m still with you, always. You’re still my life long best-friend.
I hope that I’m still yours.
With love, Brandon.
I fold the note back the way it was, and a tear slips down my cheek. I guess I never realized how close Jason was to his brother, it seems as though they only had each other. They didn’t have as many people in their life as I do. They didn’t have nearly as much as I do. It makes me feel guilty for hating my life. I’m luckier than most people; I have a roof over my head, my car, and a huge family.
All Jason had was his brother and his Mom. And now his brother-his best friend-is dead.
“Mia?” I say, finally. Mia looks up from her phone and immediately sits forward.
“Are you okay?” She asks. “What happened?”
“I just wanted to say thank you, you’ve loved me since the day I was born, and you’ve always been there for me. I guess a part of me just feels like I’ve taken you and our other siblings for granted,” I say. “You guys mean the world to me, and I love you so much.”
Mia stands from her place at my desk and sits down on the edge of my bed. She wraps her arms around me and squeezes.
“I love you, too,” Mia says. “We all do.”
We hold each other for a long time. When we part, Mia goes back to scrolling through social media on her phone, and I start working on the rest of my make-up work. We go back to our semi-normal lives. But now she knows how much I love her. Now she knows that what I did, wasn’t because of her.
* * *
My mom and dad are sitting on the couch, watching TV. Skylar and Caden are upstairs.
Mia and Amelia are at work.
“Hey Mom,” I say. “Can I talk to you guys?”
My mom pauses the TV and sits up further to look at me. I’m sitting in the single chair in the corner.
“Evelyn said that I should go back to school,” I say. My dad looks startled for a moment.
“You’re not supposed to go back to school for another week,” he says.
“I know, but Evelyn thinks that I shouldn’t miss anymore school. She thinks I should face my fears and own up to my mistakes.” I say.
My mom and dad stare at each other for a long time, as if they’re communicating in a way that I can’t understand.
“You’re meeting with the principal tomorrow morning,” my mom says. “I guess you could get through the meeting, and then go to class late if you want.”
“I think I should,” I say. “I feel like I’m ready to go back.”
“What about your make-up work that your teachers emailed you?” My dad asks.
“I finished it all earlier today,” I say.
“You finished five weeks’ worth of make-up work?” My mom asks, suspiciously.
“I’ve been sitting at home for two weeks, not being able to do anything except go to therapy,” I explain. “Plus, I want to get better, Mom. I want to graduate this year,” I say. “I’m trying to fix the mess I’ve created. I’m trying to face the consequences.”
My mom and dad look impressed.
“Okay,” my mom says. “We’re leaving at 7:30 in the morning. Your meeting starts at
7:45. You can go to class after that.”
“I’ll call the school and let them know you’re coming back early,” my dad says. He stands up and leaves the room, while simultaneously dialing the school’s number on his phone. I don’t want to go back to school, but I know that I have to. Evelyn is right. I have to move on with my life. I have to graduate and do all of the things I want to do.
And I have to face my fears. I can’t let fear control me; I can’t be afraid of the people around me. I have to stand up for myself. I have to.
Twenty-Two
My alarm jerks me awake at 7:00 in the morning. It’s Monday; my first day back to school in five weeks. I decide to dress simple; I put on a plain white V-neck, and light blue jeans. Since I got my straightener back, I decide to straighten my hair, and part it to the side. Once I’m done, I head downstairs and take my medications.
“Good luck at school today,” I hear.
I’m already halfway down the stairs when I turn around to see who’s talking to me. Caden. He starts walking down the stairs and meets me in the middle.
“Thanks,” I say. Caden throws his arms around me, almost knocking me down the stairs.
“I’m happy that you’re okay,” he whispers in my ear.
I pull back to look at him.
“I love you, Caden,” I say. “And I’m happy that I’m okay, too.”
Caden releases me, and lets me leave. I head into the kitchen and gather my pills.
“Kalani, let’s go!” My mom shouts.
I swallow my pills and jog down the hallway. I put my white sneakers on at the main entrance, grab my phone, and head out the door with my mom.
“Are you nervous?” My mom asks. She pulls out of the driveway and drives down the road.
“Not as nervous as I should be,” I say. “I mean, I am nervous, but I think the a
nxiety medication has been helping to keep me calm.”
“That’s good,” my mom says.
“So, what’s this meeting about?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” my mom shrugs. “Your principal just called and said that we needed to
talk.”
“Great,” I say, sarcastically.
* * *
Ms. Jones stands from her seat at her desk when she sees me.
“Kalani,” she says, walking around the side of her desk. She extends her hand for me to shake.
“How are you?” She asks, shaking my hand.
“I’m okay,” I say. Ms. Jones releases my hand and walks back to her seat.
“Please, have a seat,” she suggests. My mom and I both sit down in the chairs in front of Ms. Jones’ desk.
“I have some news for you,” Ms. Jones says. She turns the laptop sitting on her desk around so that it’s facing us, and then clicks the spacebar. A video pops up, taking over the entire screen. I press play. At first, I don’t know what’s happening. But then it hits me.
On the screen the fourth-floor hallway. Kids litter the hallway. A few minutes pass before Lucas and I appear on the screen. It’s clear that we’re arguing, but there’s no audio to the video so you can’t hear what we’re saying. After a moment of arguing with Lucas, I begin to stomp away. Suddenly, Jazmine appears, her hands extended outwards. I’m on the floor, and struggling to get up. And then she pushes me. I free fall, and Lucas runs for the stairs. The video ends there.
“What is this?” My mom asks. She looks speechless, and she probably is. She just watched her child fall down the stairs due to foul play.
“We reviewed the security camera footage,” Ms. Jones says. “Like you asked of us. And we found that Kalani did not trip down the stairs. She was in-fact pushed”
“Why didn’t you say anything, Kalani?” My mom asks, clearly upset.
Ms. Jones looks to me for an answer as well.
“I didn’t think that there was any evidence,” I say. “I didn’t think anybody would believe me.”
My mom looks away, as tears form in her eyes.
“There’s more,” Ms. Jones says. “A lot more.” She turns the computer back to face her and clicks on a few different things. Then she turns the computer back to face us.
I click play again. This video takes place in a hallway as well, and I think I know what this one is about. A few moments pass before I appear on the screen. And then Jazmine appears. We’re clearly arguing in this one. A few moments pass by before she lunges for me. The fight begins. A crowd begins to form as the fight breaks out. Suddenly, Mr. Smith appears, wrapping his arms around my waist, and pulling me away from Jazmine. The video ends there.
“You didn’t start the fight,” my mom chokes out. “You told me that you didn’t... And I didn’t believe you...” She looks sad, defeated.
A silence falls over us, as Ms. Jones pulls the computer back towards her and clicks on another video. She turns it around and clicks play.
This one is quick and simple. It takes place in the main hallway, where every wall is plastered with pictures. Lucas and I appear at the main entrance and freeze. I quickly walk over to the wall closest to me and tear one of the pictures from the wall.
Then I run, and Lucas follows. The video ends there. Nobody says anything about that one. Ms. Jones simply pulls up another video.
This one also takes place in the main hallway. Lucas and I appear at the main entrance. I’m wearing a hoodie. After a moment, Jazmine appears, her arm casted. We’re talking about something, but I can’t even remember the conversation. A crowd begins to form around Jazmine, Lucas, and I. After a moment Jazmine lunges for me. We struggle for a moment, before Jazmine pulls my hoodie from my body, revealing the cuts on my arms. You can’t see the scars on the video, or Lucas’s shocked look of surprise, or the crowd laughing, but I remember it like it happened yesterday.
I run until you can’t see me anymore, and the video ends.
“I have one more video to show you,” Ms. Jones says. She clicks on a few things and begins typing. Then she turns the screen around.
“This video was not caught on our security footage,” she says. “But a student sent it in when they found it on the school chat room.”
I click on the video. This one takes place outside, in the parking lot. I’m walking towards the school, when Jazmine and her friends stop me. It looks like a scene straight out of a movie. Jazmine and I argue for a while, before Jazmine lunges for me. She knocks me to the ground, and the video zooms in. Jazmine continues to hit me and her friends join in by kicking me in the ribs. It sounds weird, but I can remember exactly when I fell unconscious. After a while someone appears on the screen-it’s Lucas, running towards us. The video cuts off there.
I don’t know what to say. I guess my mom doesn’t either because she doesn’t speak.
“We already knew about this incident,” Ms. Jones says, pointing to the screen. “But the others... I’m not sure how nobody caught those incidents...”
My mom scoffs, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I just want to say, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry,” Ms. Jones says. “I feel embarrassed that all of these things happened to you, and we didn’t do anything to stop it. It makes me feel like a bad principle, and a bad adult,” she continues. “I should have been someone that you could talk to, and I shut you down. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, but it’s not okay. The things that were happening to me should have been stopped a long time ago. But I guess that’s partly my fault, too-not just hers. I should have told everybody that I knew, that something was going on, but I didn’t.
“I think you should know that Jazmine Davis has been expelled from this high school,” Ms. Jones says.
My mom and I both make the same sound of shock.
“The things that she did to you were unacceptable,” she continues. “It wasn’t enough to just suspend her. She will no longer be attending school here.”
I don’t say anything for a moment, because I don’t know what to say. I never thought that Jazmine would get what she deserved. But she did. She got expelled.
“When did you find these videos?” My mom asks.
“We found these videos almost two months ago,” Ms. Jones says. “I called you to tell you about it, but you had informed me that Kalani had an accident and wasn’t available to meet until she got better.”
I let out a sigh of relief before I can catch myself. They didn’t search for these videos because I attempted to commit suicide. They found these before it even happened. This wasn’t a pity call, it was serious.
“Thank you for taking action, Ms. Jones,” my mom says. “I hope that this could be a start for the healing process, for Kalani.”
Ms. Jones stands from her place, so we do too.
“I just wish that we could’ve caught this sooner,” she says, shaking my mom’s hand. “I wish it hadn't come to this.”
My mom offers a sympathetic smile to Ms. Jones, releasing her hand. Then she turns on her heel and leaves.
Once out of the office, my mom grabs the inside of my elbow and gently pulls me to the
side.
“I just wanted to apologize,” she blurts out. “You told me what was going on this school year... And I chose not to believe you. I should have listened to you,” she continues. “I’m sorry that I didn’t.” My mom drops her gaze to the floor, like she’s ashamed.
“Apology accepted,” I say. I take a breath before saying, “I just wish it didn’t take me almost dying for you to realize the truth.”
I turn away from my mom, and head towards the main staircase.
“Kalani!” My mom shouts, but I keep walking.
“Kalani Young, get back here right now!” I still don’t stop.
I know that I’ll get in trouble when I get home for talking back but I can’t stand it anymore; all of the sappy apologies and sympathetic gestures. It makes me sick.
Why is society like this? Why do people automatically care when it’s too late-or almost too late for that matter. It needs to stop. It’s just not right. Before I start up the stairs, I check the time on my phone. It’s 8:00, which means that first period is still in session. I half walk, half jog up the stairs, towards the fourth floor.
I can’t waste any more time than I already have. Once I make it to the fourth floor, I slow down to an actual walking pace, until I reach my classroom.
“Kalani,” Mr. Smith says from his place by the chalkboard.
I’m greeted only by stares. Some stares are sympathetic, and some are just blank, like they don’t know what to think. Mr. Smith sets down the chalk that was in his hand, and makes his way towards me.
“I’m glad you're back,” he says once he’s standing right in front of me. “If you need anything at all, just let me know.”
“Thank you,” I say with a small smile. Mr. Smith smiles too, then heads back to the front of the room. After a moment of uncomfortable silence-and staring-I head towards the back of the room. There’s one seat left, and I sit down as quickly as I can. After a moment, everybody turns their attention back to front of the room, and Mr. Smith resumes with the lecture. I let out a sigh of relief. If all I’m going to encounter today is stares, then I think I lucked out.
Twenty-Three
“How was your first week back to school?” Evelyn asks. The group is smaller today. I guess a few people couldn’t make it today.
“Honestly,” I begin. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” It feels strange
admitting it, but it’s true.
“That’s good,” Evelyn says. “That’s a great first step in the right direction.”
Evelyn is about to say something else when the door to the main entrance flies open. Jason is in a hurry when he appears in the doorway. He quickly jogs across the room until he reaches us.
“Sorry that I’m late,” he says, taking a seat next to me. “I was up late last night trying to finish up some homework and forgot to set my alarm.”
“It’s fine, Jason,” Evelyn says with a smile. Then she turns her attention back to me.
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