Sweet Dandelion

“He’s twenty-five and he’s stuck taking care of his little sister instead of living his life. I’m a burden to him. I know he says I’m not, but I am. I have to be.”

I swallow thickly, wiping my tears away on the back of my hands. I feel Zeppelin nudge my legs.

“This shouldn’t be my reality, but it fucking is. Sometimes I think I should’ve died that day, the cafeteria ceiling my last vision of this goddamned world, but then I realize that day should’ve never happened at all and no one should’ve died. It makes me so sad and angry,” I blubber, probably making no sense at this point, “and the feelings … they’re going to choke me.”

Mr. Taylor’s blue eyes are soft, tender. “I don’t have words to take all that away from you. I wish I did, but that isn’t how it works. But you letting this out, letting yourself feel, this is what you need. Let yourself embrace the pain. It might not make much sense, but pain can heal you.”

“I don’t think there’s healing from something like this.”

He studies me, not like I’m broken, but as if I’m merely fascinating to him. “I promise there is.”

I sniffle from my dreadful tears. “Pinky promise?”

He cracks the tiniest smile. “Pinky promise.”

Holding out my pinky, I wait for him to twine his larger one around it, sealing the promise like a signature on a contract. Our fingers release, and for the second time ever, I hug Mr. Taylor.

I don’t know what it is about him that makes me feel safe, comfortable, but it’s something I haven’t felt in a very long time.

I let him go and laugh a little. “God, I’m always snotting all over you. Why don’t you tell me to take a hike?”

He smiles softly. “Somehow, I imagine that wouldn’t work on you. You do what you want.”

He sees so much about me without me ever saying a word.

“Let me walk you back.”

I don’t argue with him.

Instead, I let my school counselor walk me back to the building.

We get on the same elevator together.

I press 11.

He pushes 12.

I don’t tell him, that one year ago, that was the day my whole life changed forever.

A coincidence, I tell myself, but in the back of my mind I think it’s more.

Chapter Thirteen

“I don’t understand why you eat in the library.”

Sasha drops into the chair beside Ansel.

I stare across at her. It’s been a full month at Aspen Lake High and my short-lived quiet lunch has grown to include not only Ansel, but his friend Seth, and Sasha.

I know Sasha plays tennis on the school team and has plenty of friends from that, but like Ansel, she’s taken me under her wing.

Neither of them treats me like some sort of charity project considering they don’t know what happened to me, but it still makes no sense why they’re friends with me.

I’ve finally accepted that that’s what they are to me.

Friends.

Although, I’m closer to Ansel than Sasha.