My Lifeline

30

For the rest of the day at school, I'm quiet. I don't gossip with Will in maths, I don't laugh at Brains' antics in chemistry, I don't force myself to engage in conversation at the table in the cafeteria. Halfway through lunch, I leave the table and I head to the library so I can escape in one of my books that I have abandoned for too long. I wait for Will to find me, but he never does. We say goodbye to each other when I pass him in the corridor at the end of the day, but that's it. When I sit in my car to drive home, I see him and Blythe walking out of school together.

A sickening feeling spreads in my stomach when I watch them both laugh together. She must be funny. Everyone loves funny people. She flicks her hair behind her back and gives him these doe eyes that anyone would find irresistible. Will's staring deeply into them, and I can't stand to witness any more, so I start my engine and I drive away from him.

I don't cry on the way home. I don't cry when I'm laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling. I don't cry when I read my book and listen to music that doesn't seem to help this time. All my mind can concentrate on is Will.

Will. Will. Will.

And Blythe.

I shouldn't be angry or upset. Will and I have only ever been friends...who hang out at the quarry and go to the arcade and buy chips and borrow each others clothes and tell each other everything. I should be happy, though. Blythe is a nice girl. She's popular, and funny and pretty. She's everything I'm not, which seems to be exactly what Will likes. I will never compare to her, no matter how hard I try. I'm not going to try. I'm not going to pretend to be someone that I'm not.

So I'll keep quiet and I'll force a smile upon my face. I will beam happiness in their direction when they pass me in the corridors and when they do all the things that Will and I used to do. I will do that because I care for Will, and because I am his friend.

I will lie and pretend that I'm not dying inside.

* * *

"Mum?"

I'm playing with my food when I sit opposite my mum for dinner. Spaghetti bolognaise; her favourite meal to cook.

"Yeah?"

"Was I a happy kid?" I ask, no emotion present in my voice or expression.

"What? Yes, of course you were."

My brain works hard as it tries to remember a time when I was happy. Nothing comes to mind. It's all blank.

"I think I should go to therapy," I say, holding my breath and going as red as the fire extinguisher that is placed in the corner of the room.

I'm finally opening up. For the first time in my life, I'm admitting to not being in a good place mentally. It's both terrifying and therapeutic.

"Don't be silly, River. You're fine."

My stomach drops, my shoulders slump. I give up. Maybe she's right. Maybe I am fine.

Maybe I'm just overreacting.

"Okay," I whisper, suddenly feeling numb to the core. I have completely given up. I've lost all hope.

Mum lifts her head and shows off a smile. "Why would you even say that?"

I shrug, suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know. I just haven't been feeling very happy lately...I guess."