Page 96 of This I Know
“Don’t leave me,” I say.
My plea doesn’t reach her as I thought it would. “Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason. What’ll happen if I leave you?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t want to think about that. I guess I might fall and never get up again.” The answer is brutal, but it’s honest, so I don’t take it back.
She nods. Her face tightens up, as though she might lash out at me. “You might die. Just like I almost died whensomeoneleft me, alone to die on the sidewalk. And that was in a lot more real way than you’ll ever know.”
Out of respect, I don’t dare speak.
“You were a miracle for me just now, Ethan, but apparently that’s all you were. A passing miracle. That’s all you can be.”
I take her by the shoulders. “What do you mean that’s all I am and all I can be? You said it yourself – isn’t that everything?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not.” She brushes my hands away. “Anddon’ttouch me again.”
“What else then? What else do you need from me, Avery? Just tell me. I’ll do it. I’ll be it.”
“Don’t you get it? That’s not what I want to hear. I wanted us to be normal, that’s all. I didn’t want this chaos from you, like I’ve gotten from all the others.”
She’s getting worked up, so I get her a cold bottle of water from the fridge.
She takes it reluctantly, opens it, and gulps some down.
“I know,” I say, sitting again. “You’re right, I know. And that’s not too much to ask from me.” I reach out to her again. “Baby, I know.”
She moves away. She folds her hands and looks down into them. “Don’t call me that anymore.”
The words strike me in the gut, and I want to double over from the impact. I can’t feel anything anymore; my legs, my hands, even my face … it’s all gone.
Numb.
I no longer exist because she no longeracknowledges me in the way that truly matters.
“You can’t,” I say quietly.
She rages, “What do you mean I can’t? How dare you say that to me?” She looks me up and down. “I can’t? You have no right to say something like that.”
She’s hurt.
And she’s angry.
I get it, Avery. I feel your hurt. Just please let me explain myself better.If only I knew how.
I understand all of what she’s feeling. It’s justified. She has every right to be pissed. She has every right to bebeyondpissed. But if she walks out that door and closes it behind her in this kind of anger, I know I may never see her again. This could be my last chance, my last few precious moments with Avery. And the loss of her isn’t something I can bear.
You did it, you dumb schmuck. You told her.
And now you’ve lost her.
That’s the first thing I think when I wake the next morning.
Avery isn’t here. She left, and I had to let her go. I struggle out of bed and struggle equally through all the steps I need to take getting ready for school. Brushing my teeth is hard. Eating is hard. Thinking is hard.
The day is gloomy – both physically and mentally. The sun hasn’t come out once, and the clouds only seem to be getting darker and darker.
I somehow make it to school, and get through my first few classes like a zombie. I can’t stand Chemistry. Our group project is over, so I don’t even have an excuse to talk to her, and the entire time I fight back tears as I know she’s just a short ways behind me.
After, at lunch, I can’t take it anymore.
