Chapter ten

10.

The sunlight was streaming through my bedroom window as I woke up, surprised, because I didn't remember entering my room last night, or falling asleep, or even dreaming about anything. I felt like I was in the wrong place, somehow, because the last memory I could think of, I was standing in the kitchen, talking to my mom. Or maybe we weren't talking, just standing.
Then it all came crashing down on me, like one of those old torture devices that was rigged so a heavy weight or something of the sort was held from falling on the victim by a single rope, and a candle was placed underneath that rope, so all you could do was wait and watch it burn and char away until the rope was completely gone and you were dead, flat as a pancake.
Or maybe it just came crashing down on me, but not like that. Either way, I suddenly remembered everything that had happened last night, with R and his mom, and my parents, and my counselor and all of that stuff. I immediately crawled back into my bed, under the covers, and hid my head, even though there was nobody around to see me. I just didn't know how I could possibly go to school today. R probably wouldn't even be there, and people might ask me where he was. R did have a lot of friends, after all, and I wasn't really friends with any of them (besides Sophia, but I didn't even know if she counted as a real friend yet), but they knew that R and I were best buds, so they might go out of their way to talk to me. I didn't want that. I didn't want to have to break the news to people, especially ones that I didn't know very well. Sophia already knew that something was up, but she probably didn't know it was cancer. I heard a knock on my door, and presumed it was my mother, coming to wake me up. Any minute she would start pounding, bellowing, “Shane! It's time to get up, you're going to be late for school!”
But it wasn't my mom, because whoever it was didn't even bother to knock again, but barged straight into my room and flung my comforter off of my cowering body. I was insanely curious by then, so I looked up to see who was being so mean to me.
And (with my luck, of course) it was Sophia Markson. She stood there glaring at me, hands on her hips and her usually loose lips clenched into a tight line. I looked down at her feet, expecting one of them to be tapping up and down, but they were both firmly planted on my gray carpet.
At that moment, I was very thankful that while I was getting dressed for bed last night (even though I didn't remember doing so) that I had chosen to wear sweat pants and an old t-shirt for pajamas, instead of just boxers like I wore sometimes. Still, I was appalled at Sophia's presence in my room. We certainly weren't that good friends yet.
“What the heck are you doing? Get out!” I yelled at her, but she stayed where she was, as if she was a tree with her roots firmly implanted in my soil.
“Shane, what the heck do you think you're doing? Lying here in bed when you should be getting ready for school! I know how you feel, R is my friend too, remember. And he needs our help. You really think you're helping him by lying here like some coward, sissy-”
“I'm not a sissy.” I wasn't going to add that I did think I was a coward. No, I would never let her know that. “Besides, why do you even care so much about R? Last time I checked, you two weren't B-F-F's. Or is it something... different?”
She blushed furiously, and I rolled my eyes at her for being such a girl.
“Like I said, R and I are... friends. We're friends, just like you and him are friends. Now get out of bed, get dressed, and you'd better hurry if you want some breakfast. We're walking.”
She stomped out of my bedroom, thankfully giving me privacy to change my clothes – and think. I was more confused than ever, plus the feeling of spiraling depression I was starting to get. Depression + a bossy, confusing Sophia Markson = not good.
But, before I could take too much time brooding around and being simply stupid, I decided I would do what she told me – get dressed and ready for school. I didn't have any homework assignments due, so I just pulled on a clean pair of jeans, my Relient K t-shirt, and a black hoodie. I grabbed a pair of socks to put on underneath my back Converse, and ran a comb through my light brown/almost blond hair once or twice. That's good enough, I decided, and ran downstairs to eat breakfast. I was famished. I found Mom and Sophia sitting around the table, discussing something. Their faces were both very serious, and I wondered what they could possibly be talking about.
“Mom?”
She looked up quickly, like she was just then realized my presence in the room. Sophia did the same. I just raised my eyebrows at them and hurried to make myself a bagel with strawberry cream cheese. I gulped down a cup of apple juice with it, grabbed my ready backpack, and pulled on my shoes, tying them as quickly as I could. Sophia was ready, also, so I said goodbye to my mom, and we left the house, heading towards school. Finally, I couldn't help myself any longer. I started asking questions.
“So what were you doing in my room, anyway? And why were you seeming so pally-pally with my mom?”
“Well, it's kind of hard to explain. But to make a long story short, your mom called me and told me how you were acting, and I just couldn't stand it. So, since we're friends, I decided to simply do something about it. And I know that doesn't explain much, but I don't feel like explaining much right now.”
“Okay, I guess that makes sense. Somewhat. At least I know a little bit more now. I'm so sick and tired of being confused all the time.”
I didn't mention that these days I was usually only being confused about things involving her. That might sound mean. But I was a little bit comforted that she had called us friends. I mean, I knew that we had told each other we were friends, but I didn't really know how to do anything to progress beyond that. I tried to remember back to kindergarten when we had become friends. All I could think of was the day that we had been put at the same art table, and he had offered to share his crayons with me, since I was missing a few colors. And that's basically how it started. Too bad things aren't as simple as in kindergarten, I thought wistfully. I really had no idea how to proceed with Sophia, especially since I had never really had a girl as a friend, before. But then I thought of a question I had been wondering about for quite a while, actually. But I also remembered she had just said she didn't feel like explaining. So I decided I would save it for lunch period, and seek her out even if she didn't sit with me first. Right. My mind was made up.
It turned out that R was at school, after all. He had dark circles underneath his eyes, and his clothes were a little messy. I could tell that he hadn't taken the time to comb his hair, like I had. His messiness combined with the threatening looks he would shoot at you if anyone dared to stare at him almost made him seem menacing. For those who didn't know him well, that is. He was my best friend, and I knew he couldn't really be menacing, so it just made him seem sad. Sad and hurting. I didn't dare talk to him until I caught up to walk with him to our Social Studies class, though.
“R!” I panted, jogging to catch up with his swifter-than-usual pace. He at least looked at me, and while it wasn't exactly happy, it wasn't angry.
“Shane.”
“I wasn't expecting you to be here today. How are you doing?”
He snorted. Yes, he really snorted.
“As good as I can be. Do you really think that you can help me, Shane?”
I was terrified that I would say something wrong. I was actually shaking a little bit. But somehow I thought of something to say that I thought might do some good.
“No... not in the way that you think I'm trying to help you, at least. I can't make your mom better. I can't take your sadness or hurt away, no matter how much I'd like to, it's just not possible. But I can listen. I can be your friend, just like I've always been. Because I don't really know how to do anything else.”
A flicker of a smile might have crossed his face right then.
“Well, okay, I guess.”
Unfortunately, right after we had passed that barrier between us, we arrived at our classroom.
“School time,” he said, and I nodded reluctantly. But we entered the school room.
We talked about who had been elected for class president (a guy named Clay Pastra who I didn't know was even running) and elections and that junk. It made me slightly happy that I had gotten elected for counseling instead of president. But just slightly.