My Favorite Distraction (Distraction #1) (31 page)

“I lost someone today,” I blurted out, but her face didn’t change at all. It just remained expressionless. “She was my girlfriend…my forever.” I paused as devastation surges through me. I bit my tongue hard trying to suppress the complete loss of what my future was supposed to be. I pressed the surfacing tears down giving myself a stomachache. I wouldn’t cry, I repeated in my head I wouldn’t cry right here, right now. I needed to be strong, I needed to be angry, anger was something that I could focus on; anger blocked all vulnerability, anger was intimidating. I closed my eyes blocking out the inner voices wishing I was closer to a brick wall where I could bang my head a few times to stop the head talk. I continued to ramble trying hard to explain my hurt, my anger and I wasn’t sure who I was justifying it to her or me.  “We were supposed to get married.” She blinked and it was a slow blink. Her eyes shifted away, but landed back on mine. “I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t control anything. It’s like my world is spinning out of control and I can’t stop it.” Again, I watched as she repeated the slow motion blink and peered up at me with lifeless eyes.

Our ice creams arrived after that and I studied her as she ate. She grabbed a straw, slipped the wrapper off, and then slowly placed it into her water. Everything she did was precise, planned. She was methodical in every action. Her long hair fell forward slightly as she leaned in to take a long drink, and then she placed the straw on a napkin next to her fork. We ate in silence. She would look at me occasionally, but it was weird, empty almost. She stopped halfway through and began eating her K cookie. When she was done, she removed the napkin from her lap, folded it neatly, and placed it by her plate. She stood up and nodded at me. I pushed away from the table, grabbing my untouched J cookie. I followed her to her bike.

“Why J? How come you picked this cookie for me?”

She paused, her eyes traveling to the J cookie then to my eyes. “It’s my favorite letter.” She lifted her arm to take her hoodie off. Her undershirt lifted up in the process and I saw marks, dark blue and black bruises on her back and side. I flinched at the sight. My face was frozen in shock, looking at the spots on her, until she removed her hoodie and tied it around her waist.

“It doesn’t hurt, J.” She paused until my eyes connected with hers. “It never did. I’m numb.” I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but couldn’t. “Would you like a twelve-year-old’s advice, J?” I just nodded, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling nauseated all over again. “Pretend,” she said clearly, but I was still confused. “Pretend you have control.”

I repeated out loud, “Pretend.” I stared at her as she climbed onto her bike.

“How long do I pretend?”

She gave me a small smile, one that touched her sad eyes before she answered, “You pretend, until you don’t have to pretend anymore. Until, you are what you pretend to be.” She turned around after that and disappeared under the streetlights. I looked down at my J cookie, crumbled in my hand. My mind focused on her words: “Pretend you have control.”