Seeing Shane Gray ✓

twenty two | break

'You're a kid,' had been his exclamation.

'No, I'm not. I've already had my period. I'm a woman.'

Hashir had laughed for the first time, his eyes glowing.

'People will hate this,' he'd said.

'Don't worry. I can fight for us.'

And they did. When Hashir's parents complained about Marla's dressing or when Marla's parents complained about Hashir's religion. When Hashir got into Boston U and wanted to leave our small town for his future. When Marla said they could try long distance.

They fought everything.

"You should go to school," Marla says, sniffling again and closing upon herself.

"I'll skip," I tell her.

"No. Go. I'm just going to sleep."

"I'll sit by you while you sleep," I argue.

"That's creepy as fuck." Marla rolls her eyes. "Go to school and let me breathe in my own space. You're killing me with all this sympathy."

"I'm not pitying you."

"I know," she mumbles, swallowing. "But you need to go. I can handle it, okay? Don't make me push you out."

I smile, knowing why she's doing it. Marla, like me, doesn't like leaning on others for emotional support. She doesn't like sharing her burdens or being treated as helpless. Maybe that's why we get along so well. She's the only one who had understood I need space when I lost Carter.

"I'll drop by after school, okay?" I promise her.

She nods, slipping under the covers. I wait a few moments before sighing and heading for the door. It isn't until I've pulled it open that she speaks again.

"Tay?"

I hum back.

"You know when you lost Carter and I said I know what it feels like?" she asks, her sound muffled by the covers stifling her mouth. "I lied. I didn't know what it felt like." She pauses. "I know now. It hurts like a bitch."

I don't answer, pursing my lips and nodding because I agree. Yes, losing someone hurts like a bitch. It hurts like losing a limb, like having a part of you ripped apart from you without your permission. It hurts like a burning inside, a helplessness that cannot be explained. Losing someone hurts.

But it's not the same, losing someone to life and losing someone to death. It's not the same, Marls losing Hashir and me losing Carter. Marla can still fight for Hashir. She can talk to him, get him back, do something. I can't do anything about Carter. I lost him permanently. There's no coming back from that.

"Does the pain go away after a while?" Marla asks.

A few moments of silence pass by. "No," I answer truthfully. "It doesn't go away. But you learn to live with it. You get used to it."

She doesn't speak, not even moving, and I leave her room and close the door behind me. I go down the stairs and out of her house. Georgia offers to drive me to school but I decline her kindness, not telling her that I have to go to the hospital to get my lab results first. I walk halfway, take a bus to the closest stop, and walk some more, panting by the time I get my results in a sealed envelope that I rip apart to find my results.

The lab results are a list of numbers I can barely interpret.

"Can you tell me what this means?" I ask the nurse who hands them to me.

"You'll have to see a doctor for details but ..." He takes the paper from me and gives it a quick scan. "Looks like juvenile diabetes."

I nod, taking the sheet back and looking down at it. I don't know how I feel about having diabetes, or even if it's diabetes in the first place. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I click into the search bar and try to interpret the results on my own.