If Looks Could Kill - Vance Hopper

thirteen

I stand outside the hospital for half an hour contemplating whether to go in or not. It's late. Two in the morning. A lot of the kids have gone home. The only people left are his parents and his younger sister, Amy. When I step in his room and see him lying in his hospital bed, deep asleep and surrounded by his family, my heart sinks. He looks so ill and hurt. I stopped by the 99cent store and picked up a bouquet of white roses. I leave them on a table with ten other baskets full of flowers and handwritten notes and candy and a shit ton of other heartfelt bullshit. Maybe I should've written a letter. His mother smiles at me when I take a step towards him, wanting to apologize for that night, how rude I'd been. But I couldn't apologize now without his family blaming me for his disappearance. I place my hand on his.

Bruce's Dad is making phone calls in the corner of the room and his little sister is asleep on her mothers lap on the side opposite of me. The chair she's sitting on looks uncomfortable. His mom is holding his other hand, rubbing her thumb in circles around the back of it, her other arm holding Amy.

"You are Anna?" She asks me. Her voice is strained, like she'd been crying just moments earlier.

"Yes." I say quietly, not taking my eyes off his bandaged face.

I'm so sorry.

"Bruce talked about you often," She smiles. "I know it's unfortunate we have to meet under these circumstances," she sighs, "but I'm just glad he's back."

I nod. "Me too."

I squeeze his hand, which is cold, and tell her I should get home because it's late.

"Thank you for the flowers. Have a nice night," She tells me as I walk out of the room.

~~~

The following Monday, Bruce was back at school. He had crutches, and bandages around his wrist.

Vance wasn't an idiot. He'd seen the way I watched Bruce, full of regret.

I couldn't help it.

I wished I could've apologized or showed him I the immense guilt that I felt, told him that I thought of him every night before I go to sleep, the way he showed up behind me, pale, bruised, broken.

Horrified.

I was the last person to see him before he disappeared and I was the person to find him. I couldn't bring myself to talk to Bruce. I have too much pride for that. I guess I really haven't changed much.

He has, that's something I noted. He isn't the usual wide-smile, friendly, happy-go-lucky guy that I was fond of.

No, the new and improved Bruce keeps to himself. He even stopped talking to the majority of his "friends." I don't blame him, not at all. What he went through absolutely demolishes someones spirit. But he showed up to school, day after day. Still with his excellent marks, still in honor roll. More respect than ever. Still kind, sure, but not outgoing, not how he used to be. I haven't seen him physically speak to someone in... I don't think ever since he got back. He's not the same and I don't know if he ever will be again.

~

The bell rings and since it's Friday, now we're out for winter break. Mom and Dad are home for the holidays. It's snowing outside and the snow crunches beneath my boots. I wrap my arms around myself, walking to the parking lot where Jeremys' lowrider is parked. He broke up with Vanesa two weeks ago and now he's dating a sweeter girl, Ainsley. She's in the passenger seat when I slide into the back. "Hi, Anna."

"Hi, Ainsley."

I'm quiet for the rest of the ride to Ainsley's neighborhood. My brother doesn't mind taking me to school much anymore. He also picks up Ainsley every morning and drops her off every afternoon.