Page 63 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
I stare at the poem that’s still printed out on the mirror.
In Lak’ech
Tú eres mi otro yo / You are my other me.
Si te hago daño a ti / If I do harm to you,
Me hago daño a mí mismo / I do harm to myself.
Si te amo y respeto / If I love and respect you,
Me amo y respeto yo / I love and respect myself.
As soon as I stick my toothbrush in my mouth, the other door opens and in walks Yami. She must have had the same exact idea as me.
She catches me staring at the poem for a split second before I look away from it. The look on her face says exactly what she’s thinking:hypocrite.
I have half a mind to spit in the sink and make a run for it, leaving my dirty toothbrush on the bathroom counter, but Yami beatsme to it. She turns right back around and leaves me with only my own reflection staring back at me in the mirror. We always were on the same wavelength, and it looks like us avoiding each other is no exception.
But she’s wrong about one thing. I’m not a hypocrite. At least not when it comes to that poem. I know exactly what it means, and Idostill live by it.
Hurting the people around me is the most effective way I know to sabotage myself.
So no, I’m not a hypocrite.
Just a coward.
After I finish up and then pretend to take my meds, Mami tries to guilt me into getting in the car so she can drop me off at Rover before taking Yami to Slayton.
“We’re going to be late if we don’t leave right now, mijo.”
“Then go,” I say through a mouthful of cereal. She glares at me, so I continue, if only so I don’t get my head smacked. “I’ll walk. Rover’s close enough. You don’t have to drop me off.”
It’s true that Rover is walking distance. Well, sort of. It’s a less than thirty-minute walk, so if I leave now, I won’t be late. But if I leave now with Mami and Yami, I’ll be skin-crawlingly early.
“Let him walk,” Yami says as she brushes past me and toward the car. “I’m not about to be late because of him.”
“Fine, but if I hear you ditched school, you can kiss those walking privileges goodbye.”
“?’Kay,” I say, to get her off my back. It wasn’t like I was going to ditch. Being alone with my thoughts is a million times worse than going to school. At least there I have some kind of routine to keep me busy.
Before I know it, Yami and my mom are out the door, and I have the house to myself, which I also hate. So I scarf down the rest of my cereal, grab my backpack, and head out.
The walk isn’t so bad this time of year. Yeah, it’s a little chilly for March (for Arizona), but it doesn’t bother me too much. I have my headphones in, so my music is louder than my brain, which helps. But even with the beat thumping in my ears, moving my feet in step with the rhythm, I hear a honk right next to me.
I almost fall on my ass at the noise, prepared to fight Nick or Avery or whoever else might be trying to mess with me, but when I whirl to the side, it’s just Bianca. I didn’t even know she could drive now.
“Hey, babe, need a ride?” she asks.
“Uh, sure. Why not?” I say, not able to come up with an excuse to get out of being stuck in a car with someone who is somehow both a godsend and the devil incarnate in one.
I hop in on the passenger side of her Accord, and she leans over to kiss me. I don’t turn to face her, so she kisses my cheek, but it still makes me feel like an absolute piece of shit.
“So, where’s Yami?” Bianca asks.
“Uh, what?” Now I turn to look at her, confused.
“I mean, I see you at school all the time, but not Yami. I would have figured you two would stick together, right?”
