Page 136 of Collided

Marie turns to me. “Why’d you say you don’t like chocolate? You love chocolate.”

I fold my arms over my chest to make myself as small as I can. Sometimes, I wish that was possible. I could hold myself and become invisible. The invisibility cloak forever rests on my shoulders, so whenever I’m feeling like it I can quickly hide under it.

“I don’t want to bother your mom,” I say, feeling my chest tighten with guilt.

Marie rests her hand over my shoulder. “Trust me, you can never bother my mom. Especially when she loves you. I’ve told her so many things about you and she always asked me to bring you around. She loves the people who love her people. Because of me, she loves Sebastian and Heath. You know how grumpy Heath is, but even he softens under her kindness and love. She’s just that amazing.”

“Like you,” I blurt out.

She shakes her head, a sad look flashing across her face. “I’m not half the person she is. She’s way too perfect.”

I take her hand off my shoulder and squeeze her fingers. “After seeing you two, I’d say you’re very similar. Maybe you’re not like her, but you’re also not less than her. I see a lot of her in you andmaybe that’s why I will be able to get comfortable around her like I did with you.”

Instantly a wide smile plasters on her face, and she nods.

“Let’s go. I’ll show you my room.” Marie takes my hand, like it’s second nature to her, and leads me to the staircase that has an elegant metal design handrail.

I knew Marie was rich but seeing it with my eyes it’s different. I’m reminded of the fact how different we are. Family wise, money-wise, and even as individuals. I don’t deserve her, much less be her best friend.

We walk down a hallway and finally reach her room. Pushing the door open she bounces on her feet as she pulls me inside and shuts the door.

Her room is five times bigger than mine—it’s huge. The walls are painted in a soft pink and the white ceiling has a small crystal chandelier hanging from it that looks beautiful. The king-size bed is neatly made with pink pillows arranged against the white headboard and a matching duvet that sits folded at the end. There are nightstands on either side of the bed; the right one has a white journal and pen next to it and the left one has glasses and a laptop with white headphones set on top of it. There’s a vanity set near the tall windows overlooking the garden with every makeup accessory and jewelry put together in little cups and boxes.

“C’mon, let’s lie down,” Marie says as she dumps both of our bags on the floor and plops on the bed with a heavy sigh.

I stand next to her bed, not sure if I should join her or wait for her to tell me what to do.

Marie turns her head at me and rolls her eyes. She pats the spot next to her. “Join me.”

Removing my shoes as quickly as possible, I lie down beside her.

“Your room is beautiful, Marie. It looks straight out of a magazine.”

She breaks into a fit of laughter. “That’s interesting because it is indeed straight out of a magazine. When I started therapy—” she freezes.

“I didn’t know you went to therapy,” I mumble.

Breaking free from the shock, she takes a deep breath and doesn’t speak for five minutes. I watch her inhale long breaths, hold them in, then let them out. It appears to be a breathing exercise that helps her because she starts to look like herself.

All the while I stay quiet and give her the space to be okay. I want her to know she’s safe with me and she can trust me—kind of a hypocrite, but I will get there someday.

When she opens her eyes, she looks better. “I still go to therapy. Once a month because I’m doing much better now.”

I smile at her.

“I haven’t told you this, the therapy part and the things that led to it because it’s still fresh. I mean I started therapy in January, and it's been a couple of months, but it’s helped me so much. I was lost, sad, depressed, confused, angry, erratic and so many other things. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I truly thought I was going crazy and there was nothing that could save me. I…” She gulps hard as if the next words are difficult for her to speak. “I thought about dying. I thought about it every single day for months. I visualized how everyone would feel if I just left. I felt good for myself because then I’d be free from this pain, ache, hollowness, and emptiness I carried around with me. But I also saw the faces of people who’d be devastated to lose me. My parents, my brother, Heath, and Sebastian. Five people. Five lives that’d change because I decided to die.”

Tears are rushing down my eyes.

I can’t believe it.

Marie thought about dying.

If she died, then I wouldn’t have met her.

Somehow, that feels like the greatest loss of my life.

Nothing would have been the same.

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