Tough Girl

18: You Can't Make Me

Sean pulls me by my wrist back to his office, like he was scared I would run. My mind races. He caught me. He saved me. I rub my bruised arm, and I know I am holding back tears. When we get there, he asks me to sit down on a small couch and locks the office door. He looks so... upset. Disappointed. Angry. Hurt. Determined.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I know," Sean says, "But you need to tell me what's going on." I swallowed. My next words would hurt me more than him. All I can do is push people away. My hands shake as I lift them to wipe away my tears. "Sang." "You can't make me talk." He lets out a breath and a curse. "You can't keep pushing us away. You know I heard everything that happened in that room. What if I hadn't been there? And the night of the accident? What if next time, things are worse and you don't have a chance?" "Stop," I say quietly. "What if he hurts Marie?" "He wouldn't do that she's his daughter." "Like he wouldn't hurt Anna because she's his wife?What if you're the last one and he's too far gone?" "Stop!" I yell and cover my face. I don't want to think about it. Don't want to try to comprehend...images flash through my head from memories and nightmares and everything in between.

Sean hushes for a moment, and I wish for noise to distract my thoughts. "Sang," he finally breathes, pleading with me. "You need to understand. Talking has consequences, but so does not saying anything at all. We care to much about you to not help you, and that means one way or another we're going to find out the truth. If you go down in silence fighting with everything you've got, that's your choice. We can find out from Andrew, or Anna, or Marie, or you. It's your choice. But I'm done watching you suffer. Don't you know as much as it hurts you, it hurts us too? And you can hate me, and you can ignore me, and you can avoid me, but just tell me. Please."

He leans down on his desk, supporting himself with his arms, back turned to me. His shoulders are tense and I'm not sure what to do. I think back to the locked door. If it was open, would I run? Can't I own up to this instead of dodging it, over and over? Everything he's said is the truth. All he's ever done is help me. Why can't I accept that and pay it forward? My fingers twitch and I know the feeling of anger in my fingertips. I want to punch something. Something hard that will make me hurt. Before I know it, I stand up and my arm swings out towards Sean...and right into the wall next to him. My knuckles crack as they hit the wall and the jolt goes straight up my arm and down my spine. Adrenaline tingles through my whole body and I pull my arm back to swing again. Sean catches my elbow and pulls it back to look at my hand. I already know there will be a bruise later. "Why would you do that?" He mutters, cursing under his breath. I lower my head as Sean gives me ice to put on my knuckles.

"I've made my decision," I say quietly. Sean meets my eyes. "And what's your choice?" I inhale. "I'm going to tell you. All of you, at once when we can find time. And Sean?" His eyes widen and I smile because it feels right to say that instead of Dr. Green. "Thank you," I whisper, tears in my eyes as he pulls me into a hug. "Of course, Sang. I'm glad you're finally letting us in." I smile. "Me too."

"Can I go see my mom now?"

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Sean trails me into her room. My mom is pale, her skin whiter than I remember. All but her arms and head were tucked under soft blue blankets and white sheets and I smoothed out a wrinkle as I sat down. "Mom?" I cooed softly. Her eyes cracked open and she smiled. "Hi baby. You been tough while mommy was sleeping?" I give a weak smile. It's as much as I can manage. She looks over me and freezes as she catches sight of the ice on my knuckles. "Oh, honey. Not tough like that. That's not what I meant. I thought we went over this enough times last year! I can't recall how many fights you got into and how many talks I gave you..." My cheeks redden as I watch Sean watch my mother ramble about fighting and me. "Excuse me, ma'am. But she wasn't in any fights." My mother sits up to look at Sean. "Who might you be, young man?" Sean walks over to my mother"s bedside across from my and holds out his hand. "Dr. Sean Green. I teach your daughter's Japanese class." My mom smiles a warm, bright, smile that makes her skin look even paler. "Anna Sorenson," she says, shaking his hand. "Aren't you a little young to be a teacher?" He blushes and looks down. Then she looked over at me. "So if you weren't in a fight, how did that happen?" I cringe. "I punched a wall..." "Now why on earth would you punch a wall?" "Well...that's just how I cope, I guess, when people lock doors." My mother looks at me like I'm crazy, but Sean's face holds recognition as he pulls out his phone. "How's Andrew?" Mom asks. I frown. "He's okay. I visited him before I came here. "Did he.." Mom starts, but doesn't finish. "Did he what?" "You know..." I frown. She must be asking if he hurt me. I take a deep breath. "Um, Sean, could you step out for a minute?" He catches my eye and nods, and I know he will be waiting outside and probably listening in.

"Mom?" "Yeah?" "I have some very close friends that I've made this year, and they all care a lot about me. They're really nice. Do you remember the people I used to hang with back when Dad was still around?" Mom smiles even through the pain I see in her eyes. "Carter and Mason and Johnny? Yeah, they were great kids." "Well the friends I've made, they're just like them, except there's eight of them. Eight! They freaked when I came to school with a bruise and they've been trying to get me to tell them about it for a long time. I've been a stubborn, naive, jerk after all they've done is care for me and I can't do that anymore. I'm going to tell them about everything." Her eyes widen. "Sang you can't!" "Mom they can help us!" "We're doing just fine," she growls. "Listen to yourself! You're laying in a hospital bed after surgery because there was glass in your leg and saying you're fine?" Mom glares at me, her lips drawing into a thin line. "What would your father say? Wouldn't he want you to-" "Don't bring him into this!" I yell. "You have no right to speak for him!" "He was my husband!" "Some wife you were after he died! You never visited his grave, you married Andrew nine months later, you moved states away from the only memories I had of him!" "How dare you speak to me like that," Mom growled. "I am your mother." "He was my only real family," I said back, jumping to my feet and trying to catch my breath. "Don't you dare walk away," my mother demanded. My eyes fill with tears. 

"Try to understand my pain," I whisper. "How much it hurts to have no friends through school for two years straight, to be hit week after week and have no one to comfort me, to push everyone I ever have away. Try to understand I got into fights to help people that couldn't fight for themselves. That I've been missing him for years with no consolation. That every time I step outside I never want to go back in because I'm afraid of what lies behind those walls. Andrew's a monster and I'm just a prisoner to my own existence and I want to feel safe. I'm telling them whether you want me to or not, because I need this. I need them. Try to understand, Mom." I step out and shut the door behind me.

Sean catches me as I fall.