When Reason Breaks (4 page)

“Seriously, Em. I'm sorry about the picture. I've bought you like a hundred pints of coconut ice cream since then to make up for it.”

Emily put a hand on her belly and grunted, “Ugh, no more, please.”

“And don't worry about getting into trouble,” added Abby. “We'll be super careful from now on—stealthy like ninjas.”

“Exactly,” Emily said with a smirk.

“So it didn't work out with Kevin. Oh well, time to move on,” said Abby. “He's hot, but he's a dog. He's dated most of
the sophomore class by now. You know, he had sex with a high school girl when he was in eighth grade.”

“
If
the rumors are true,” said Sarah.

“They're always true,” said Abby.

“Whatever,” Emily said, stopping the exchange. “Let's talk about something else.”

Emily's phone buzzed. She checked it carefully so she wouldn't mess up her nails. She read the text and tucked the phone into her front pocket.

“And who was that?” Abby asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nobody. I mean, my brother Austin. He's bragging again about being in college.”

“Speaking of hot boys,” said Abby.

“Now,
that's
gross. We are definitely not talking about my brother.”

“Then let's move on to hair and makeup,” Sarah suggested. Sarah was already picture-perfect. Her black, tight curls hung loose, and her face was lightly made up so that her dark-brown skin, tinged red from days on the beach, seemed to glow. Emily would be the guinea pig.

“Sure. I'll be right back.”

In the bathroom, Emily pulled out her phone and read the text again. She smiled wide and typed a quick response. Then, she deleted the thread.
Why didn't she tell them?
They asked about him and she lied. It was the perfect time to tell them. Maybe it's not too late. She could do it now, but they'd have to promise no posts or tweets or texts to anyone. She looked at herself in the mirror. What was she going to do?
Ask them to pinkie swear? That was kid stuff. Even if they did it for old time's sake and a good laugh, it wouldn't stick.

She had no choice but to keep the secret and lie to her friends as long as she could. They'd want to know
everything
, and they couldn't help but spread the news. And when any of the news reached her super-conservative dad, she'd be grilled as if she were a criminal on the stand. And no one, not even Mamá, would object to protect her. Emily gripped the edge of the counter and squeezed her eyes shut. She drenched a towel with cold water and pressed it against her face. The few tears she couldn't hold back soaked into the cloth.

“A clean canvas,” Emily said pointing to her face when she returned. She nearly fell asleep as Sarah brushed her thick hair this way and that. When Sarah moved to Emily's face, she pressed her thumbs into the flesh beneath Emily's eyes.

“You're a little puffy,” she said and cocked her head.

Emily shrugged. “I probably need more sleep.”

Sarah studied Emily for a moment but didn't push the issue. “No problem,” she said. “I have just the thing.” Her hands moved deftly across Emily's skin. She mumbled as she worked.

“This goes perfectly with your brown eyes and dark, auburn-tinted hair … This will fill out that thin upper lip to match your plump lower one …” When Sarah finished she said, “You are done, and you are gorgeous.”

Emily closed her eyes and felt her face redden.

Dear Ms. Diaz
,

Hi. How are you?

Okay, that was a stupid way to start, but I wasn't sure how to begin. Deep breath and here goes: When you read this, I should be gone. The first envelope is my suicide note, and this journal is the explanation. “This is my letter to the World / That never wrote to Me –” That's a line from an Emily Dickinson poem, but I'm sure you know that. Do you know how that feels? To expect a response from someone and get nothing? She was ignored and resented it. So was I. Not by you. You tried. I didn't make it easy, I know. I never made things easy. Like Emily Dickinson, I hid
myself away from the world. I was there, but I wasn't—not really. Does that make sense? I wanted people to notice me, the real me, but I didn't let anyone see me
.

I'm sure people will be surprised by what I did. They'll find my notebooks in my locker and rip my life apart, page by page, to find answers to their questions. Even then, they might not understand. I wanted to tell you myself. It wasn't an impulsive decision. People might think so because of what happened yesterday. That's not the reason why, but it was the last straw. I'm not blaming anyone else, though
.

I'm the one who let it all get to me. Some people can shrug things off. Not me. I mulled things over and over until they were a part of me. I saw and felt things differently than they did. Kind of like Emily Dickinson. Turns out, we shared a lot more than our initials
.

You know, once, she said her father's “heart was pure and terrible.” And she said, “I never had a mother. I suppose a mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.” These lines could've been from my own journal, but they were written by someone born almost two hundred years ago. Weird, right? I mean, we felt exactly the same about certain things, like how we wanted to be remembered in the end
.

That same poem about her writing a letter and never getting a response? Well, she does get noticed. At the end of the poem. And after her death. The last line of that poem is a request. I ask the same of you, Ms. Diaz
.

Please, “Judge tenderly – of Me.”

Emily walked alone to the bus stop at the corner of her street, her earbuds firmly in place. Others also blocked out the world as they waited, but a few huddled together and talked. Sue Huntington, a freshman, chatted with three boys. She caught Emily's gaze and waved. Emily circled a piece of hair around her ear and spun her small pearl earring. She smiled politely and waved back but didn't join the conversation. Instead, she turned her attention to her iPod and searched for a better song. While she waited, she kicked small loose stones or texted Sarah and Abby, who were already on the bus.

She acted like she wasn't concerned about anything, but she was. Emily had come close to telling her friends, but she didn't. The last thing she wanted was to start the year with
the kind of drama that put her at center stage. Been there. Done that.

After that June party, when she and Kevin had kissed in the corner in front of everybody, her phone blew up with texts, posts, and tweets. She had played it perfectly—not too modest, not too confident—and had basked in the warm glow of the spotlight.

Kevin turned up the heat with some flirty posts. Emily's body tingled with nervous excitement in response to each one. Things were different this time. She wouldn't pull back like she did in middle school. She wanted things to move forward.

But then her dad saw the picture. The giddiness inside her evaporated and was replaced by humiliation as her dad berated her about her lousy judgment and loose morals—
¡Qué vergüenza!
In normal families, the scolding would have been followed by a month-long grounding. Case closed. But Councilman Edwin Delgado, Esq. had crafted a lengthy letter to the editor that was published in the local newspaper. In it, Emily apologized and her dad promised to address this serious problem both in his home and the town he loves and serves. Emily's public shaming at the health center had followed.

When the bus rounded the corner, Emily pulled her shirt down and smoothed the front of it. She wanted to tell her friends, but she couldn't. Not yet. The spotlight would find her again and she didn't want to get scorched.

The bus hissed to a stop. Emily hung back and let everyone
else climb on ahead of her. Once she got to the top step, Abby and Sarah stood up and screamed her name. They waved her over and hugged her when she reached the seat, as if they hadn't seen her in years. Emily laughed and shushed them at the same time. People rolled their eyes at the dramatic welcome.

“Oh please,” said Abby. “They're just jealous because no one is jumping up and down to see them.”

“We are a little loud,” Sarah admitted and giggled. “Oh, well.”

Two stops later, Elizabeth Davis waited in line to board the bus. Emily inspected her through the window. She was tall and had an athletic upper body. Her thick, straight hair was pulled tight into a ponytail.

When Elizabeth climbed on the bus, Emily got a better look at her: uneven bangs, black eye makeup, and light-green eyes. An eyebrow piercing, big black hoop earrings, and a pouty mouth painted deep purple. Emily remembered how different Elizabeth looked when she moved to town. Emily secretly gave Elizabeth props for having the guts to reject the school's unofficial head-to-toe designer clothes dress code. She was bold, which made Emily nervous, but she was also, in her own way, beautiful.

Elizabeth caught Emily staring twice. The first time, Elizabeth let it go. The second time, they locked gazes and Elizabeth flipped her off. Abby and Sarah were talking, so they didn't see it. Emily joined their conversation to avoid Elizabeth's glare as she passed the group to find a seat in the back.

When the bus arrived at the front doors of the high school, Sarah said to Emily, “Wait a minute.” She reached into her backpack and retrieved a small tube of pink lip gloss.

“Hold still,” Sarah said. Emily parted her lips a little as Sarah applied the gloss.

“There,” she said when she was done. “Now, you are absolutely perfect. Watch out, boys.”

“Yeah, right,” Emily said.

“Keep it. It's too light for my skin tone. Be sure to reapply throughout the day. It really calls attention to those gorgeous lips. Plus, it tastes like bubble gum.”

Emily smiled and shook her head as she slid the lip gloss into her pocket.

They filed off the bus and marched into the packed main hallway. Kevin Wen-Massey leaned against a wall, talking with Tommy Bowles. When the girls entered the building, Kevin said, “There she is.”

“Good luck, man,” said Tommy. “I'll see you in first period. I'm going to find Elizabeth before class.”

“Of course you are. Give her a kiss for me, okay?”

“Shut up.” Tommy punched Kevin lightly on the arm before he walked away.

Kevin cut a path to the girls. His blond hair was carefully styled to look windswept. He wore an oversize T-shirt and barely-held-up baggy jeans.

“Well, hello, ladies,” he said once he was in front of them.

“Hi, Kevin,” Sarah and Abby responded in unison and laughed. Emily didn't say anything, but she laughed, too.

“Come on, hugs all around,” said Kevin, holding his arms open to Abby. As he hugged her, he said, “You're looking gorgeous as usual.”

“Thanks,” Abby responded. “How was your summer?”

“Excellent. Went on a cruise with my dads and hung out here.” He moved down the line. “Sarah. How was your summer, beautiful?”

“Great,” she said, tapping his back as they hugged. “Camp. Beach. Lots of shopping.”

“Awesome.” He stepped to the left and stood in front of Emily.

“Hey.” Kevin wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment. Sarah and Abby raised their eyebrows at Emily as she peered over Kevin's shoulder. This was no quick pat on the back. They would definitely be talking about this later.

When they separated, Kevin asked, “So, how was your summer, Delgado?”

“It was okay,” she said with a shrug.

“Just okay?”

“Well, yeah, my friends were gone most of the time,” she said, motioning to Abby and Sarah.

Kevin grinned mischievously at Emily. Suddenly nervous that he would say something more, Emily announced, “I'm going to find my locker before class. I'll see you in first period.”

As Emily weaved through the halls, Kevin followed her at a safe enough distance not to appear suspicious.

Emily stopped in front of her locker and fumbled through the combination. Kevin arrived a few seconds later and leaned
on the locker next to hers. She glanced at him and acted disinterested.

“So, your summer was just okay, Delgado? Really?”

Emily nodded and choked back a laugh.

“Damn, that's harsh. Couldn't you have said it was good, at least? I mean that's better than okay—not by much, but better.”

“It was good,” she admitted. Emily cracked a smile and continued to put a few things into her locker.

“If you were being honest, then you would say it was great.”

“Let's not get carried away,” she said jokingly.

“Oh, really?” He leaned over so that his mouth was near her ear. “Maybe you need a reminder,” he whispered.

“
¡Basta!
” Emily snapped.

“That is so hot,” he said and inched closer to her.

Emily backed away and looked around. Satisfied that no one was paying attention to them, she said in a clear, low voice. “Kevin, we talked about this. You know I haven't told Sarah and Abby. I'm sure they're going to ask me about the hug, and I'll have to convince them it meant nothing. I swear, I'll disown you if you tell anyone or make it obvious.”

“All right,” he said. “Chill. I get it.” After a few moments of silence, he added, “I'm going to walk away. Wait a few seconds and then follow me.”

“Where are you going?”

“You'll see,” he said before he left.

Emily closed her locker and spent the next few seconds zipping her backpack and adjusting the straps so that it hung
exactly the right way. She glanced down the hallway to see where Kevin was and then began to follow him.

Both said hello to friends along the way, but they kept moving. Kevin led her far away from the main hallway and down a flight of stairs. He crossed an empty corridor, opened a door, and went in. Emily looked around. The coast was clear. She opened the door hesitantly and stepped inside the dark room.