Page 113 of September Rain


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I am going to kill you.

55

-Angel

A nurse had an orderly escort me from the common room back to mine. I'm too weak to pretend to eat. I feel too sick to move.

The nurse is demanding I eat a Styrofoam bowl of thin applesauce. That's how I know all the food has drugs in it. They don't let you refuse anything that has meds in it. That and every food item they bring me has a bitter tang.

"Temperature's normal," the nurse says, as she examines the thermometer she's just taken from under my tongue. Her eyes shift to me. "You've lost fifteen pounds during the three weeks you were gone and another four since you've been back. If you don't start keeping the food down, they'll put in a feeding tube."

I don't respond, but take a spoonful of applesauce because it is what I'm supposed to do.

Avery's pacing in the far corner with her arms crossed over her stomach. "Ha! I told you. It's not going to work."

"Can I go to sleep?" I ask the nurse, after a few bites. "I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning."

"After you finish that applesauce." She and an orderly wait until the bowl is empty and I can barely hold back the tears until they leave.

Avery's hands are crumpled into fists at her sides.

I turn to face the wall.

"Angel," she whispers my name. "I never wanted to hurt you, I swear."

A hot feeling passes over me and my stomach contracts. My throat widens. I let loose the applesauce that's come back up.

"Am I such a bad person?" Her breath sounds shaky. "You keep taking from me, when all I have is what you gave me. I had nobody. No mom. No dad, no family. No other friends, Angel. Only you.

"I know I made a big mistake, but why does this thing with Jake have to hang over us?"

I want to scream at the mention of his name, but hold my tongue.

"I was only trying to have my own life. Why does that make me a bad person?"

The shuffle of footsteps pacing the floor fills the silences in her monologue.

"I know I've said terrible things, but so have you. What makes us so different? You're the good one, I'm the bad one. Boo-hoo. I was not the one with a boyfriend. You were. And yes, I was sleeping with Troy. Because he paid attention to me."

My fists clench. I feel the pecking at my throat that makes me want to scream.

"I was only with Jake when you couldn't be. Not because I wanted to be. And he never saw me. He only ever held you. I was your placeholder. Your dirty secret. You hate me for that? For being what you made me?"

There's a long stretch of silence.

"You keep asking why I did it . . ."

My ears perk up at that. The last time I spoke to her, I asked her why she hurt him, why she wanted to take him away from me, and she lied. She said she didn't. I cut her off then and there, because I know that no one ever made Avery do anything she didn't want to.

"I don't have a reason that's going to satisfy you, but I will say-I didn't know it at the time-but I guess I was jealous. I hated what was happening to us. You were getting everything you wanted and I . . . hated that you left me for him. I was lonely. But I still tried to give you what you wanted."

She waits. "It doesn't make sense, I know. But that's . . . whatever."

I hear a shuffling sound, the creak of the single chair in the corner. "Do you remember kindergarten? Our teacher, Mrs. Schilling, was nice. She used to have those anti-smoking posters on the walls. All bright colors and the people in them were set in groups of good and bad. The good guys-the non-smokers-had nice smiling faces and clean clothes. The bad guys held cigarettes in their hands and they had those short, downturned brows that made them scowl and holes in their jeans. But smokers don't really look like that. Lots of people smoke, does that make them all bad people?" She sniffles. "I don't smoke. What makes me so irredeemable?"

Muffled cries.

In a moment of weakness, I speak my thought. "Prove to me that you really care and go away. Disappear."

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