Page 75 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

My eyes narrow. “Don’t be so sure about that, and stop calling me Cricket. It’s annoying.”

He chuckles under his breath. “I still remember that day in science class.”

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t.”

“All those damn crickets in your hair.” He laughs.

“I was traumatized! Like,seriouslytraumatized.” The memory causes my whole body to shudder, which makes him laugh harder. “I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“I’m sorry; I’ll stop,” he says, wrestling to get rid of his smile. It takes a few seconds, but he finally manages it. “There, all better.”

“You sure about that?”

He’s forced to bite his lip when another grin threatens to break free.

Max knocking on the window draws our attention. I watch as she waves and hollers, “Take care,” loud enough for Wes to hear down below. It sends another wretched pang through my stomach, and all the levity Sebastian just gave vanishes.

He must feel the shift because his face drops and he whispers, “You’re going to be okay.”

“Am I?”

“Group!” Shanice announces, and when Sebastian stands he holds his hand out for me and helps me up.

As we all file out of the room, his hand is still holding mine, but no one notices aside from Max, who’s right next to me. She looks down at our entwined fingers, and I let go of him. When her eyes catch mine, she ducks her head and drops back in the crowd as we make our way down the hall.

Dr. Benson is already sitting in his chair when we walk in and find our usual seats, but one remains empty—Wes’s.

To my left, Sebastian leans in, murmuring, “Try,” right before Dr. Benson calls our attention, but mine remains on Sebastian. He wanted me to promise I would try harder. I couldn’t give him my word because it would’ve been a lie.

Noticing Wes’s empty chair, I think about what I would be doing if I were out of here.

I’d be at the beach, smelling the salt and feeling the mist on my face as the wind kicks through my hair. Closing my eyes, I imagine myself sitting on the driftwood. I can almost hear the waves as they break along the shore, but I’m thrust back into my reality when I hear Sebastian’s voice.

“My dad died two years ago.”

Turning my head, I look at him in shock, surprised to hear him talking when he’s normally so quiet in group.

“He was coming off a long shift at the hospital and crashed into a tree. His car caught on fire; he had to be identified by his dental records.”

My heart stammers at how horrifying that would be, and I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he looks at me and gives the slightest hint of an encouraging nod before turning back to Dr. Benson.

“Life was never the same after that.”

He doesn’t stop talking, and I can’t believe how honest he’s being in front of everyone, but I know why—it’s for me. He’s proving a point, that if he can try, so can I. The thing is, if he continues to participate, and I don’t follow suit, I’ll be here by myself because he’ll be released and I’ll be left behind.

Shifting my attention to Max, I wonder how much longer she has. Her feeding tube is gone and she’s been eating more, so it’s only a matter of time before she’s goes home as well.

“How did you cope?” Dr. Benson asks him.

“I was numb for a while. It didn’t seem real,” he says. “The phone would ring, and I would honestly think it was my dad calling. That somehow it was all a huge mistake because there was no way he could be dead.” He clears his throat, and it flexes as he swallows hard. “After a few weeks, the numbness faded. I’d been so disconnected that I hadn’t realized that my mother had started drinking pretty heavily. I figured if it dulled her pain, it would dull mine too.” Turning his head, he looks into my eyes when he admits, “I use alcohol to cope.”

“This is a good first step, Sebastian.”

He shifts back to Dr. Benson, who’s giving him a proud nod.

“Acknowledging truths isn’t easy. Life can turn on us in an instant, and it’s a shock to our systems. If we’re unprepared and ill-equipped to deal with the aftermath, we can find ourselves turning to unhealthy behaviors as a way to cope and self-medicate.”

Sebastian’s voice is full of pain as he talks about losing his dad, and it makes me think about my own dad and how it would feel to lose him. As angry as I am with my parents, the lost girl inside me begs to cling to them still.

---