CRISTY
Oh God, I'm screwed.
I can't believe they just left. What about me? I told my uncle I'd be coming here for summer break. And what do they do? They sell the house and move to New York. At least they could've warned me earlier, so I wouldn't fly all the way here.
The airport had been a special kind of hell. Standing there with my suitcase, calling a number that went straight to voicemail. Again and again. The house key in my pocket suddenly useless, a piece of metal that opened a door to nothing.
Thank God for Helena. Had it not been for her, I would have to fly to New York and look for my uncle and cousin and I don't have the money for that. What I have saved in my account is supposed to be used for my college tuition. I can't just spend it carelessly on plane tickets because my family decided to run away. I know the situation is tough, but they could at least tell me. They were supposed to be there for me.
But they never are, are they? That's the pattern. People leave. People disappoint. People choose themselves every single time.
In moments like this, I wish I was like Helena. She's so strong and confident. That's what I admire about her the most. Well apart from her authenticity. She's so genuine. She doesn't take crap from anyone, always speaking her mind and facing people head on. She doesn't care about people's acceptance, unlike me.
I used to pretend to be someone I'm not, just to get people to like me. I wanted friends, I wanted to fit in, so I adjusted myself to fulfill people's expectations. The perfect hair, the perfect clothes, the perfect smile. All of it a performance, exhausting and empty.
But after spending time with Helena, I realized how wrong that was, not to mention meaningless. The time I spent with her at the hospital after her accident really opened my eyes.
At first she was annoyed that I stayed with her. Helena doesn't do vulnerable well, doesn't like witnesses to her pain. But after a while we started talking, mostly out of boredom, and somehow became friends. I almost laughed at the look of horror on her face when I offered to do her nails. She explained that she doesn't really like all that girly stuff and that's one of the reasons why she didn't want to hang around with me and other girls. I knew there was something else that she wasn't telling me, but I didn't push. We weren't that close yet.
I told her basically everything about me. I felt, and I still do, that I could trust her. I talked to her about my insecurities, about why I acted the way I did at school, about the reason my family and I moved here and why I would probably have to move away again. Her acceptance was baffling, to say the least.
Then she berated me for 'being an idiot'. Her words, not mine.
That's when I realized how amazing she is. She told me I was stupid for trying to gain people's favor by losing myself and being someone I'm not. It's not worth it.
And I agree.
After Helena got discharged from the hospital, she came back to school, but only for a short while, since she had to go through physical therapy. But for me, it was the most enjoyable time I've had at school. I became 'me' again, changing my high heels, skirts and perfect makeup for shorts, sneakers and bare face. I could literally sleep for almost two more hours every day because I didn't have to get ready as long as I used to.
Helena actually praised me for that and I would never admit it out loud, but her words meant the world to me. More than all the compliments from fake friends ever did.
After Scooter left for the summer with her dad, she kept taking me everywhere. I didn't mind though. I loved spending time with her. We would go to the mall, her house, the river or the motorcycle club I brought her to after the accident.
That's when my personal hell started.
Since I was with Helena most of the time we spent at the club, the club members treated me just like her. Well, almost. I think they realized I'm not as strong as Helena, so they were always gentler around me. Protective, careful, like I might break if they spoke too loud or moved too fast.
Especially Gunner.
During the summer I grew to like him. A lot. When I first realized that, I literally freaked out, crying into my pillow from frustration and helplessness. The feelings came on like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming, drowning me before I could even think to swim.
Then I talked to Helena. After I cut off all contact with those fake friends from school, who left me as soon as I changed back to the old me, Helena was the only person I could talk to about that.
She called me stupid. Again.
I knew it was stupid to fall for a guy that much older than me. I mean, what could he possibly see in me apart from a chubby kid. But I couldn't help it. He was so caring, and kind, and affectionate with both Helena and me. And after being deprived of affection for so long, I got used to it pretty fast, and then eventually started craving it.
Like an addict. That's what I am. Addicted to the way he looked at me sometimes, like I mattered. Like I was worth protecting.
But I know it's not meant to be. He was probably just being nice because I'm Helena's friend. Yes, I can proudly say I'm her friend. We even have matching anklets to prove it. Scooter got them for us as graduation gift, delicate silver chains with tiny charms. Mine has a little book, hers has a wolf.
"Dinner's ready."
I hear Helena's voice from the doorway, snapping me out of my thoughts. I've been staying at her house since we came here for summer. Since my uncle and cousin left, I didn't really have anywhere else to go. Helena's house has become a sanctuary, the first place I've felt safe in a long time.
"Coming."
I put my laptop away and get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen. I don't really know how to cook, apart from a few things I was taught by my mom. But Helena said it's not a problem, since she's used to cooking every day anyway, mainly because she's been living alone for a long time.
We eat in silence. Helena hates being disturbed when she eats and so do I. It's one of the things we have in common, this comfortable quiet. No need to fill every moment with meaningless chatter.
Then I take care of the dishes. That's the least I can do. While Helena gets ready to leave for the clubhouse. I'm supposed to join her later, after I'm finished with my errands.
I watch her go, leather jacket over her shoulders, keys in hand. She moves with purpose, always knowing exactly where she's going and why.
I wish I had that certainty. That confidence. Instead, I'm all hesitation and second-guessing, always three steps behind everyone else.