“Smile,” he says.
You do, and he takes a few shots of the two of you, making sure to get the lake and mountain views in the background. When he’s done you both peer at the pictures, although they’re hard to see in the sunlight. He chooses the best one, puts it on Instagram, and tags you.
“I’m hashtagging this one ‘AwesomestGirlEver.’” He grabs your hand and pulls you forward to continue the hike. You’re glad he’s leading the way because if he could see the stupid grin on your face he’d tease you the rest of the day.
After you’ve hiked a while longer, Ben finds a clearing overlooking the lake where there are some large rocks and smooth ground, and he assures you it’s a place snakes would not inhabit. He sets out a blanket for the picnic he’s packed. He’s got apple slices and carrots, peanut butter crackers, fresh bread, and small bottles of frozen water that have just begun to melt and are perfectly cold.
“You thought of everything,” you exclaim.
“I even brought chocolate but that’s for later.”
“Did it melt?” you ask.
“I kept it near the chilled water bottles.”
“You are brilliant,” you say, because clearly, he is.
“What do you want to eat?” he asks.
You take a chunk of the bread and it’s soft, safe, and delicious, and he has a sandwich that he’s packed for himself. You eat the apple slices and carrots and then start in on some peanut butter crackers when you realize he’s beaming at you.
“What?” you ask.
“You’re really cute.”
You laugh and nudge him with your shoe.
“You are,” he says.
“What kind of sandwich is that?” you ask him.
“It’s turkey with cheese.”
“I wonder what would happen if I took a bite.”
He lifts his eyebrows. “I thought you were a vegetarian?”
“Self-imposed,” you say. You both laugh.
He hands you the sandwich and you look at it, and then take a bite. It’s a small bite, mostly bread, but there’s definitely some turkey and cheese in your mouth.
You chew.
You consider.
You try very hard not to think about what’s in your mouth because if your brain and your mouth work too hard together then you know you’ll gag.
You swallow quickly.
It tastes like … it tastes like nothing.
You tell him that and then you say, “It actually tastes a little like cardboard. Salty cardboard.”
“Yeah, but look!” Ben says. “You took a bite! You chewed it, you ate it! And nothing horrible happened. That’s awesome, babe!”
Now you’re beaming.
You did it.
You pretty much know that this is what you’ll need to do to conquer the monster.
You don’t take another bite, but you feel like you’ve accomplished something. You feel great.
After lunch you clean up your stuff and head back down to the lake. You’ve got your my-mom-hates-this-suit suit on underneath your clothes. You strip off your shorts and watch Ben watch you as you take off your T-shirt.
“God, you’re hot,” he says.
He takes off his shirt and he’s already got his board shorts on and you grin at him and say, “Nice abs.” Then you run past him toward the lake because suddenly you’re shy.
Ben follows you into the lukewarm water. You swim out neck-deep and tread water. Ben is tall enough to still stand and he grabs you around the waist immediately. You put your arms around his neck and there you both are, kissing, again.
You wrap your legs around Ben’s waist and even though there are other people at the lake you don’t care. Holding you, he walks farther out and off to the side, near a rock formation, and you keep kissing. The kissing is crazy, the water is glorious, there is a shock of blue sky and white clouds and the two of you are locked together, your lips exploring, your legs wrapped tight around him. Your heart is racing and you think, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod …
You’re so in love with this boy.
40
You text Jae on Sunday night.
How’s your trip? You back yet?
No, tomorrow late. What’s up?
Ben and I are back together!
Really! That’s great! Can’t wait to hear all about it!
OK. See you at school on Tuesday! ?
*
Monday is Labor Day and Ben has stuff to do with his family so you spend the day catching up on homework. The good thing about Monday being Labor Day is that Healthy Foundations is closed so you don’t have to go to therapy. You think that things are looking up for you until you get to school on Tuesday and get called to the office when you’re in Math. Your teacher excuses you and the whispers in class erupt.
You can’t imagine why you’re being called to the office, other than maybe your mom forgot to call in your absence from Friday?
When you arrive at Reception, the secretary escorts you to the principal’s office.
The small room is filled.
Your parents are there.
Your English teacher, Mr. Owens, is there.
There is another woman in the room you don’t recognize.
You start to panic. Your breathing quickens and your heart smashes against your rib cage.
You’ve never felt fear like this.
The first thing you think is that Todd is dead.
“Please, have a seat,” your principal, Mr. Jordan, says not unkindly, but it still doesn’t calm your fears.
You sit in the chair between your parents, and your mom reaches for your arm.
And then you know.
You pull your arm away quickly but she grabs it again and looks at your wrist. Her face goes pale.
“Mom, it’s not what you think!”
Mr. Jordan says, “We received an e-mail on anonymoustips.com that you might be having some trouble. The person who e-mailed indicated that you might be harming yourself.”
You think back to English class last week. Who saw you? Alex watches you all the time, but the girl who sits next to you could have sent in the tip too. It could have been anyone in class. You’re livid.
Your dad is looking straight ahead, grasping his hands together tightly. His jaw is clenched and a vein in his neck is pulsing. You’re not sure if he’s upset or about ready to lose it.
“Daddy.” It comes out sounding like a whimpering plea. “It’s not what you think. Please, Daddy. I didn’t … I promise you.”
“Pea, honey, they’re all here to help you.” He cannot look you in the eyes.
Mr. Owens speaks up. “I read your six-word memoir last night. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get to it until last evening because I was gone for the long holiday weekend. It caused great concern. The monster inside wants me dead?”
Mr. Jordan cuts in. “With that, and the anonymous tip that came in over the weekend, which we didn’t see until staff checked the site this morning, we had to address this immediately.”
Mr. Jordan nods in the direction of the nicely dressed woman. “Ms. Reynolds is from the Arizona Suicidal Crisis Management Team.”
“Oh my God! I didn’t try to kill myself!” You’re reeling. You feel light-headed and your blood pulses through every vein in your body. Your adrenaline is at an all-time high.