“The truth,” says Ion, “is that before this year, she didn’t even hang out with us outside of academic team practice and competitions. She’s a totally different person now, and you know what? It’s because of you. So why would we tell you something about her that might mess that up?”
These reasons make sense, I guess, but I am still hurt for some reason. Maybe because it feels like my friends were looking out for themselves more than me in this situation. They actually talked about telling me and then deliberately decided not to. So obviously the birthmark issue was a big deal to them, and they chose to keep it a secret. Which makes me wonder if Cecily made the same decision, and if so, why?
CHAPTER 26
Cecily drove her mom’s car to school today and offers to give me a ride home. As we sit in the front seat in the school parking lot, I hear her insert the key. She turns the ignition. The engine revs a few times and sputters out.
“I’m redlining,” she says with a sigh of frustration.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s, like, when the gas gauge gets really low, the dial goes below this red line. It just means the tank is basically empty. We’re running on fumes.” She turns the key again with the same result.
“Why didn’t you fill it up this morning?” I say irritably.
“Gas is expensive.”
“So maybe you should’ve taken the bus.”
She pauses. “Is there something wrong, Will?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“About what?”
“You know what.”
“No, I don’t.”
She turns the key again, and the engine roars to life. I hear her shift the car from park into drive.
I think back to the Candy Land Incident. And to all the times I’ve ever been lied to, bullied, and tricked for being blind.
“You didn’t tell me about your birthmark,” I say flatly.
She puts the brakes on and shifts back into park. The engine idles, but she is silent for a moment.
“You never asked.”
I say, “You should’ve told me before, anyway.”
“Before what?”
“I don’t know. Earlier on.”
“Do I have a responsibility to tell you all my flaws?” she snaps. “Should I have also told you that my closet is a mess? That I broke my mom’s vase when I was five years old and never told her? If you put all your flaws on display right up front, no one will ever like you.”
“That’s not true,” I say.
“It’s absolutely true, and that’s why no one has ever liked me before. Because I wear my biggest flaw right on my face. It’s not like I set out to trick you, Will.”
“Your biggest flaw? So you do think it’s an important part of who you are?”
“Well, of course—”
But I interrupt. “That’s what I don’t understand. If it’s that big a deal, why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”
She doesn’t answer.
Eventually I ask, “But what about when I was getting the operation? Didn’t you know that I would eventually be able to see you?”
“I hoped you would eventually be able to see me, Will.”
“Then why didn’t you—”
“I hoped you would be able to see me for who I am inside. I believed that you were different from everyone else. You didn’t judge me for my appearance.”
“So you thought I was that shallow? That just knowing about your birthmark would’ve ruined our friendship?”
“I just… didn’t want to risk messing anything up between us.”
A piece finally falls into place in my mind. “So the birthmark… that’s why you’ve always been bullied?”
“Yes,” she says quietly.
“And that’s why you didn’t want to try out for the announcements? That’s why you didn’t think anyone would vote for you?”
“Yes.”
“Did it never occur to you that as your close friend, I might want to know this key bit of information so I could be there for you?”
She’s silent, so I continue, “If you had just told me this one thing, I would’ve been able to understand. I would’ve understood why you thought no one liked you. I would’ve understood why you thought no one would want to date you. I obviously would’ve tried to convince you otherwise on all these things, but at least I would’ve known where you were coming from. These are terrible burdens you’ve had to carry all by yourself, Cecily. I was trying to be your friend. You know what friendship means? It means sharing the burden. You didn’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
She still doesn’t answer.
“Well?” I say.