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Willow is blown away, “What does black mean?”
“I’m not sure… it feels… hopeless?”
In unison, the sisters move toward their friend. Emily sees them coming and paints on a painfully fake smile, “Hi, ladies!”
Never one to stall or pretend, Willow marches forward, “What is going on? You don’t look like you.”
Raven, being tremendously more tactful, says, “Sweetie, we want to make sure you’re okay. You look like your heart hurts.”
Emily reflexively touches her throat and winces, but refuses to give anything away, “What? I’m fine. I’m just tired. That’s all.”
Willow flinches to hear the gravelly scratch in her friend’s voice, “Em, your voice!”
Emily immediately becomes defensive, “Will you stop interrogating me?! I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it, okay?” She yanks open her locker to search for her history book and reveals the flowers tucked away inside.
Willow’s intuition twitches at the sight of them, “Are those ‘I’ll never do it again’ flowers?”
Emily stares wide-eyed back at her friend and tears brim her bloodshot eyes, “Really, truly I’m fine. I promise.” She’s speaking more softly now. Her voice begs them to believe, but true friends never leave you in your darkest moments.
Both sisters reach for one of her hands as Raven pleads, “Let us help you. We love you, Em. We want you to be safe and we know you aren’t right now.”
Emily stares down at her own trembling hands embraced in her friend’s hands. She hesitates and doesn’t say a word. Finally, a soft sob escapes her before she turns and walks away.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Raven asks as they watch Emily now literally running away from them.
“It’s really bad,” Willow confirms, the growing ache in her gut now throbbing intensely, “We need to talk to Callie.”
Sam is certain Emily is mad at her. They have first-period history together and Emily walked in wiping tears away from her tired, puffy eyes. Sam rushed to her side and asked what was wrong only to get a dirty look and then ignored the entire rest of the hour long class.
Emily is Sam’s oldest friend. They met on the first day of kindergarten ten years ago and have been a dynamic duo ever since, Raven and Willow embracing her only after Emily did. To have a friend of this magnitude react so coldly to her concern was hurtful at first. Then Sam became worried. Had she done something and not realized it? Was she the reason Emily was crying? Was it because of the stupid run-in with him last night? Of course, it was. Once this thought grabs hold, Sam’s worry and grief morph into white-hot fury. She hadn’t done anything wrong, of that Sam is entirely certain. He is the one Em should be mad at. He is an asshole and Sam did not, nor would she ever, like him. Her friend deserves better and, quite honestly, she is pissed Emily would settle for anyone that would treat people the way he does.
As the school day progresses, Sam finds herself becoming angrier and angrier. She leaves sixth-hour math early, claiming a stomachache, so she can ambush Emily in the locker room as she changes out for seventh-hour gym. She gets there several minutes before the bell rings, the halls still empty and quiet. The locker room is usually silent now too as there is no class here during sixth-hour, but today quiet cries fill the empty space and a decade of friendship tells Sam that they belong to Emily.
Slowly turning a corner around a line of lockers, Sam sees her friend standing alone in front of the full length mirror wearing just her gym shorts and bra. She is staring at her own reflection with sobs shaking her bruised and battered frame. Sam takes it all in and feels her heart break. Large patches of her friend’s body are painted dark blues and purples against her pale skin. A perfect watercolor portrait of abuse.
Tears burn at the back of Sam’s throat as she croaks out, barely louder than a whisper, “Emily.”
The battered woman before her turns at the sound of her name, trying desperately to cover the bruises, but knowing she can’t. Dropping her arms in complete defeat, “How did I let this happen?”
Sam never knew anything could hurt like this. She crosses the space between them in an instant and wraps her arms around her friend, embracing her like a parent cradles a crying child, “Shhhhh… I’ve got you Em. It’s going to be okay. I’ve always got you.”
Emily’s words are heavy with despair, “What did I do to deserve this?”
At once, Sam holds her friend at arm’s length, “No, this isn’t on you. You didn’t do anything. You didn’t deserve this. No one deserves this except maybe the people who do it to other people. You’re not the bad guy. He is.”
“But I made him feel-”
“No. You did nothing wrong. He is an abuser and you did nothing wrong. It doesn’t matter how he felt about anything.”
Emily nods in agreement, but her eyes betray her self-blame and self-hate. This makes Sam furious. She hates him. She wants to tear him to pieces for doing this to her friend. He’s a year older than them, making him a senior with no seventh-hour class and leaving right now. Giving Emily a tight squeeze and kiss on her hair, Sam says, “I have to go. I love you and I’ll be right back, but I have to go before he leaves.”
Sam bursts out the door and into the still empty hall in a black fog. She is sure Emily called out to her, probably begged her to stop, but she feels like she is in a tunnel with only destroying him in her sight. The bell finally rings and teenage bodies flood the halls. Pushing through the mass of bodies, she locks eyes with his body. She charges forward and shoves her hands as hard as she can into his back. He lurches forward with the unexpected shove.
He turns to face Sam, anger rolling off of him in waves, and she shoves him again, using all the strength in her body.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he exclaims, drawing his hand back like he’s going to backhand her right here.
“What are you going to do? Hit me? Knock me around like you do your girlfriends? Put bruises all over me? Choke me until your hands are bruised around my neck? What are you going to do?” Sam screams in his face.
