Page 169 of We Can't Be Friends

My throat hurts. It constricting, my breathing stopping.

Am I dying too?

My heart is thundering. . .Thud. . .Thud. . .Thud. . .

“Ma’am,” someone says in front of my face, picking me up from the ground and wrapping me in an aluminum blanket. “I was told you are his sister. Do you have the number of your parents?”

Thud. . .Thud. . .Thud. . .

“We need to let them know where we are transporting him to. You can come with us if you’d like. However, we would like to check your vitals first.”

Thud. . .Thud. . .Thud. . .

Theyaren’t telling me if he’s alive, but I saw the sheet. That means he’s dead.

He’s dead.

Aaron is dead.

I-I killed my brother.

Cal envelops me in a hug. “Never say those words again.” He kisses the top of my head. “Never say you should have died instead.” I think he’s crying. Something wet hits my forehead.

“Aaron was the best. Signed contract to NHL. Top of his class. Didn’t party. Never knocked up a one-night stand. The biggest and kindest heart. Why him?” The dam holding back my tears burst, I sob against Cal’s chest. “Why him, Cal?”

“I don’t know, Dais. We may never know.”

“Yesterday was the anniversary. Each year is tough, but yesterday. . . I don’t know. I couldn’t do it. The voices were too loud. The darkness felt too comfortable. I didn’t want to come back from it.”

“But you did. You’re here. You’re breathing. You’re standing in daylight. And it’s not your fault.”

“I think you might be my daylight, Callum,” I say into his chest.

A weight is lifted by someone knowing this part of the story. I’m lighter, freer.

Then there’s knowing that Cal knows and didn’t run. My past didn’t scare him, instead he wants to hold my hand and trudge through it with me.

With Cal, I realize that none of what I’ve been feeling is permanent. What I’ve been through, what happened, what I saw isn’t my fault. His words paint over me, whispers on my skin. There’s comfort in knowing that the darkness I’ve allowed to loom over me doesn’t have to stay.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

I don’t have to be this way.

With Cal, the sun comes out. That’s what loving him is like—dancing, bathing,basking in the sun.

And for once, the first time in all these years, I’m not scared of burning.

“I couldn’t protect him and it hurts. He was my big brother, my protector. Aaron fought off bullies when I walked around third grade telling everyone I was a tomboy. He always met my boyfr—flingsbefore dates, never letting me go home with an idiot. He was my protector, and I couldn’t save him.”

“That’s why you are protective over those you love now.”

I nod into his warm, firm chest.

“But you don’t protect yourself, or let anyone else.”

“Who would want to?”

“Me. I’ve got you now, Dais. I’ll look after you.” Cal takes a step back, pinning me with his Caribbean blue eyes. “I need you to repeat after me.”

---