Awakening

At first, when Jake grabbed my hand that morning, I thought it was some joke or that his friends had dared him to mess with the "Freak". Plus, I don't really like people touching me, especially people I don't really know or like, which was why I got a bit nervous when he wouldn't let go of my hand. Then he opened his mouth and whispered those words. Those seven words that were so insignificant on their own, but managed to break their way through the fog I'd been living in when they were put together.

Thank you. You did the right thing.

Then he smiled.

I didn't really know what he was talking about when the words first left his lips. I was confused. Why the hell was he talking to me, touching me, in the first place?

Then it hit me.

He knew.

He knew about Alex, about what I'd stopped him from doing. He knew why I'd tried to kill myself.

My uncontrollable rush of gratitude squashed my anger at his theft and infringement of my personal thoughts. How many times had I wished for someone to read my mind? To comfort me ensure me that my existence was more than a glitch in the universe; that I mattered?

I was so overwhelmed by the gratitude that I felt my eyes burn with tears and a lump the size of a tennis ball form in my throat. I knew I couldn't get understandable words out so I simply nodded.

He reached in his bag and pulled out my diary, this time his smile was sheepish.

I did the right thing. . .

***

I didn't really believe that Jake's sudden awareness of my actions would spark a relationship of any type between us, but we seemed to now have something akin to friendship, even if his other friends were around.

My brother seemed to be oblivious to Jake's sudden acknowledgement of me, even if he was Jake's best friend but others remarked on it. He either didn't care or didn't notice people questioning his sanity. I wasn't worthless in his eyes.

It was when Jake offered me a ride to school one morning that Trevor actually noticed the change of my status. He just stared at Jake like he was crazy for a moment.

"What the hell man? What are you doing?" He demanded, not sparing a thought on the fact that I was standing right there.

"I'm offering Kira a ride to school." Jake responded calmly.

"Yeah I know." Trevor snapped. "Why?"

Jake shrugged. "She walks alone every day now that her friend is gone. We're all going to the same place. It makes no sense for her to walk."

"When did you ever care if it made sense? I don't! She's not coming." He said stubbornly.

I started getting nervous. They'd been best friends for years and I didn't want to be a reason for an argument between them, it would only make Trevor hate me more than he already did.

"Jake, I can walk, it's fine." I protested.

"No." He said firmly, his gaze snapping from Trevor's to mine. He reached out and held my wrist in his hand, as if he thought I might run away.

Trevor's eyes widened and flicked from Jake's hand on my wrist to my face, and then to Jake's. He looked like he'd been slapped.

"Jake? What the-" He started.

"She's coming." Jake repeated. "Whether or not you do is your choice." With that said, he pulled me out the door to where his car was parked.

"Jake, you shouldn't have done that," I started, "he's just going to be mad and-"

"So?" He cut me off, continuing to pull me. "He's treated you like crap for a long time. Why do you even care how he feels?"

"Because!" I snapped, yanking my arm from his grip, irritated that he was dragging me around and deciding what I'd be doing. I wasn't used to that. I sighed. "He's still my brother."

I wanted him to understand. Trevor and I may only share a mother, but he was my big brother. Even if he hated me, I've always looked up to him, always yearned to be as confident and sure of myself as Trevor always was.

Jake looked at me with an odd expression on his face before he reached out and put his hand my cheek, cradling it gently in his palm. I froze, unsure of myself.

Just then the door slammed and he dropped his hand as Trevor stomped past us.

"Hurry up or we'll be late." He growled, not looking at either of us, which was normal for me but not for Jake, and got in the passenger seat, slamming that door too.

When we got to the school, Trevor was out of the car and walking quickly toward the building before Jake even took the keys out of the ignition.

Jake and I followed at a more leisurely pace. As we walked, his hand found its way to my wrist again. This time, his thumb gently traced the raised scar there.

***

When I got home from the store, Jake was sitting on the front porch steps.

I looked at him curiously. "Why didn't you knock?" I asked, figuring he was there to make nice with Trevor who was still ticked off with him for offering me a ride.

"Nobody's home." He answered.

"Then, why are you here?" I asked.

Jake was quiet a moment, looking up at the darkening sky and nibbling on his lower lip before he shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you."

My stomach started to hurt and suddenly I was nervous. What if he said we couldn't be friends?

"What about?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Jake patted the place on the step next to him and I sat down, putting my grocery bag next to me.

"Can you tell me about it?" He said after a moment of silence.

I was surprised, not expecting a question. "About what?"

This time he turned his head and looked me in the eye. "Everything. About Alex, about what happened when you caught up to him. . . "He hesitated." About your scar."

As he spoke he reached out and moved my sweatshirt sleeve up a tiny bit to reveal the line of raised, pink skin on my inner wrist. He stroked it with a gentle finger.

I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to share everything with him, with anybody, but he was the only one who'd truly reached out. Who seemed to care.

"Alex was bullied a lot, while I was just ignored. Alex and I started talking and got to know each other pretty well. We understood each other, even though nobody else did." I started.

I thought of Alex, of his form slouched down in the chair across from me in the library, his face serious as I cried because I'd been cornered in the bathroom by a group of girls who'd grabbed my backpack and dumped the contents in the toilet. I remembered him coming to sit next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders as I cried, telling me it was okay, that they'd get theirs one day.

"The week before that morning, he got beat up pretty bad by some of the guys on the basketball team. He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. They'd been drinking behind the school and Alex came across them. They jumped him and left him there. It was just the last straw."

I stopped, looking down at my knees nervously. It felt good telling all this, but scary, like I was making myself too vulnerable, like I should be holding back a little bit more.

"What happened?" Jake asked quietly.

"He made a list. He planned it out, made maps of the school. Found out where everyone on his list would be. That morning, after all the plans were finished, he called me on my cell phone.

Alex told me not to go to school. He said . . . he said he was going to kill them all. That he'd stolen his dad's shotgun out of his office lock box and he was going to get back at all the people who'd hurt him, who'd hurt us. He told me-" My voice broke and Jake's arm came around me. I could feel the tears coming but I held them back. I hadn't cried in a while, it made me feel weak and I didn't want Jake seeing me as a baby. "He told me that he loved me, that he'd always loved me. That even after he was gone, he'd still love me. He planned on turning the gun on himself when he was finished, when he hit all of his targets.

I took off to catch him before he left. He'd just walked out of his house when I ran up. I don't even remember what I said to make him stop. At one point he pulled the gun out and aimed it at me. He said he didn't want to do it, but at least we'd be together forever."

By now I was sobbing, I couldn't hold in the tears that slipped down my cheeks and I swiped at my running nose with my sweatshirt sleeve. I could feel Jake's eyes on my face and I felt embarrassed to be seen so out of control. He just kept rubbed soothing circles on my back, scooting a little closer.

"I just babbled at him, saying anything I could. I told him I loved him, which I do but not how he loved me, and he finally gave me the gun. We skipped school that day, went to all his favorite places. I was quiet but he acted like it was any other day, like he hadn't been planning on murder and suicide earlier. When we got back, after he'd gone to his room, I went in and spoke to his parents. They were scared, and decided that the only way to keep him and everyone else safe was to send him away.

I couldn't take it after he was gone, and I felt so guilty because I wasn't sure if he really would have done it. I had no one to talk to anymore and I decided that no one would care if I was gone, so I might as well do everyone a favor and take myself out of their lives.

I went in the bathroom and cut my wrists. I figured I'd be dead before anyone would find me, but Mom had come back early from work to change and go out. She found me, and I woke up in the hospital the next day."

After I was finished I wiped my cheeks free of tears and kept staring at the tree in our front yard, unable to look at the expression on Jake's face, afraid it would be disgust.

"Look at me." He finally said but I shook my head. "Kira, look at me."

When I wouldn't he reached out and gently turned my face toward him. He looked me in the eye and said seriously. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry all that happened to you."

Then he kissed me and I thought through my shock that, maybe I wouldn't be so alone anymore.

I suddenly felt more awake and aware than I'd been in a long time, and I decided that I didn't want to go back to sleep again.