Page 94 of As the Rain Falls
“That sucks.”
I think about it, about the staresIget on a daily basis. Pity whispers, petty gossip, and all the other things I choose to tune out. I’m way above all that, and I mostly don’t pay attention to them, but it still hurts sometimes.
“This feels like the first real long conversation I’ve had in a long time. Besides Antony and Well, I guess,” I admit.
And Cassandra.
I talk to Cassandra too, now more than ever.
“Well, it honestly sounds like a safe decision.” Her voice fills the space between us for a full minute, raw and unsteady, before she adds, “But not for me. I can’t miss any more school.”
“You really can’t.” I nod in agreement. “Have you made any friends? Anyone to talk to?”
“I don’t really know,” she admits, her voice still wavering with uncertainty. “I talked to this friend I have online. There’s this boy I know who likes the same shows I’m always watching andthis girl I used to hang out with, Alice. She sent me a text back when I was still at the hospital. Maybe I’ll sit with her at lunch instead of eating alone.”
“Yeah. Maybe you really should, kid.”
She hesitates, her voice dropping lower, “This is going to sound weird—and I know you’re, like, really weird about touch, but… Can you give me a hug, or something?”
“Of course, Angie.”
I awkwardly pull her into my arms, and she exhales a shaky breath, melting into my embrace. Angelina’s always been the kind of person who needs physical affection. Hugs and holding hands are how she shows affection.
For her, it feels like coming home.
But for me?
Love is a warm meal and an honest conversation. A moment where I can voice my unfiltered thoughts and be answered at the same level. It’s a good thing that we got to do both tonight. I’m really glad I reached out to her.
“Don’t make me start worrying about you too, okay?” I whisper in her ear. “I’ve lost one of you, but I can’t lose both.”
“You won’t,” she promises, her voice trembling. “I’m just so sad about it.”
My arms tighten around her before I finally let me go.Her brown eyes are red-rimmed and so distant, it breaks my heart a little for her.
“Sadness is okay,” I tell her gently, knowing it can’t be helped. “Just don’t let yourself be sad for too long.”
She looks up at me, admiration in her gaze. “How do you do it? You’re just so put together while I’m a fucking mess, and you’re the one comforting me.”
Ah.
I’m not put together.
Not evencloseto it.
After Lucia died, we all dealt with things the way we could. My mother left. My dad shut down. But I got angry and mean. Mean in my head about every little thing.I lashed out at her, at Antony. She doesn’t entirely understand how cruel I was to herafterthe funeral. The things I said and thought, how badly I wanted her out of my life.
I can’t tell her about the investigation or my suspicions that something worse happened to my sister. What if knowing breaks her all over again? What if, this time, she doesn’t recover?
“I don’t,” I tell her, swallowing hard. “She’s gone, and I get what being gone means. But it doesn’t feel real, Angie. It’s like she’s—It’s like she’s here, sometimes. Like, I can feel her…”
Breathing down my neck.
“Does talking to me about it make it easier?” Angelina asks after a moment of silence, and I hum in response.
“I think it does. Antony and I talk about her sometimes too, just for the sake of it, you know?”
“Antony?” Angelina echoes, her head tilting back thoughtfully. “He really did like her, didn’t he? There was a time I thought he didn’t.”
