Because You're Different ✔

9. Lena

June

I hadn't seen Nathan since Christmas, and I was increasingly worried about him. Sam told me to leave it alone — it'd blow over soon enough, he said. What was happening to Nathan? Why was he locking himself away in his room? Had my mom somehow offended him? She could be judgmental, after all, especially towards white people with money. Maybe she'd said something hurtful while I wasn't paying attention.

Two full weeks at their place had sounded like the best vacation ever, but now with the giant shadow of Nathan's absence looming over us all day, it became depressing fast. I wanted to know what was wrong with him. Perhaps I could help; perhaps I could cheer him up like I always did if he came home from a difficult exam at college. Sam continued to tell me to leave him alone and that Nathan was 'just a little weird'.

On the day before New Year's, I had enough of it. It could've been such a fun holiday, without the snow I had to fight my way through back in New York, and the sun still greeting me every day... Instead, there was this nagging feeling in my stomach. I didn't like it, I much rather had the tingly stuff that sometimes happened when Nathan smiled. Determinedly, I walked into the kitchen, where Sam was making us tea, and pierced my eyes into his. "Sam," I said, "I want to know what's wrong with Nathan, and I want to know now."

Sam sighed. "Fine. But you didn't get it from me." I was wise enough to not mention to him that there really wasn't anyone else who could tell me. He bit his lip, then frowned. "It's this girl," he said, and for some reason, my stomach lurched, and definitely not in a nice way. "They were friends, like you and me. Lena was her name. She was batshit, mental institution kind of crazy."

"Was?"

Sam started to pour two cups of tea, a waft of steam whirling up from the surface. "Yeah, she killed herself, two years ago, during New Year's Eve. I guess he's reminded of her when the day comes closer."

I couldn't understand how he could explain this so calmly. This was horrifying! No wonder Nathan didn't want to see anyone... Imagine if Sam would take his own life, and I'd have to go on without him, knowing I hadn't been able to save him... Immediately, I felt terrible for being pissed at Nathan for ruining the festive atmosphere. I waited till Sam had put the cups of tea down, then hit him as hard as I could, which wasn't very hard at all. "Sam! How could you not have told me? How can you just... just... That is horrible, just... horrible. Es horrible! Pobre hombre!"

"Yeah, well, the girl was insane, June," Sam said. "I was scared of her, really, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. She was a psycho. I never knew what she was going to be like. She was either crying all the time or making up these crazy plans."

"Stop using those words!"

"What words?"

"Crazy, insane, psycho... That's really offensive."

"How is that offensive?"

"What do you think? It's like saying the r-word."

"What r-word?"

I sighed deeply. I really did not like to say it out loud. "Retard," I whispered, thinking of how dad had taken Valentina and me aside when we were kids and explained to us why it was hurtful to use. Even Vale, who cursed a lot, never said it again.

He screwed up his nose. "You said 'retard' on your first day here."

Yes, and that'd been hard enough. I'd figured being bold would be the sole way to earn some respect, if that was even possible. "Only to diss Matt Granton. I would never, ever use it of my own accord. You're practically insulting people with intellectual disabilities when you do."