{Ch. 6} A Bruised Ego ✓

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I swallowed. "What?"

At last, his eyebrow relaxed and he chuckled. He tapped the pencil against his palm. It was as though his eyes bored into me, even though that was impossible. "People don't normally offer to help me out, unless they find out I'm blind without me telling them."

"Oh." I twisted a braid around my finger. "Yeah, I – I know. I found out. I just – wasn't sure if I should mention it or anything."

A tilted smile brought a devious flicker to his attractive features. "I'm not ashamed of it, new kid. You're not going to offend me by mentioning a fact about myself."

"Well, still." I huffed. "I wanted to respect you."

He approached me, and somehow he stopped a reasonable distance away. He could reach out and rest his hand on my shoulder. "Thanks. But also – you don't need to help me with anything from here on out, okay? It feels a bit like pity, and I don't need that. Well, later, new kid." He lifted his hand in a wave and vanished down the hallway.

My mouth dropped into a frown. "It feels a bit like pity" echoed in my head. My stomach twisted uncomfortably at the idea of helping him out of pity, rather than helping out of purity of heart.

But as my mind replayed picking up a pen and handing it to him, my stomach dropped—it could be construed as pity. My feet followed him, encouraged by my desire to apologize.

He had disappeared from sight. I searched the first floor, peering into every room. I scoured the second floor, careful not to disturb anyone. But I couldn't find him, as if he had evaporated into smoke and wafted through the vents.

I didn't see him for the rest of the day. I hadn't expected a blind person to be so talented at being un-seeable—something so ironic seemed farfetched. And yet, I didn't see Will at the end of the day when we played outside with the kids, watching them run around and goof off in the mud. I couldn't find him inside while I packed up. And he didn't bid me goodbye.

My stomach contorted enough that my heart bent with it.

__________ __________

I rested a bouquet on Vanessa's grave, and Sam set down one of the necklaces she and I had made. I settled crisscross applesauce on the grass before Vanessa's tombstone, and Sam sat on her knees beside me.

"Hi, Vanessa," Sam said, caressing the engravings on the headstone. "I'm sorry I don't visit as often as I promised I would."

I gripped Sam's arm and smiled. "The fact that you come at all is enough."

We smiled at each other and turned to the angel statue. Sam closed her eyes and let her head fall back. The sun touched her face, making her highlighter and eyeshadow sparkle. I noticed her chin quiver slightly, and I looked away to give her privacy.

After several moments of silent meditation, I heaved in a breath and said, "I messed up, Vanessa."

Sam peered at me out of the corner of her eye before she stared at her hands in her lap. She played with the rip in her stockings.

"It turns out, I don't know how to act around the blind. He — Will had dropped a pen. And I helped him. Just to help him, you know? And he took it wrong. And now he's avoiding me and it makes me feel horrible. What do I do?"

A soft breeze answered, ruffling the petals of the flowers and mussing our hair.

"Apologize," Sam whispered. "I think Vanessa agrees with me. Hunt that boy down. Pin him against the wall if he refuses to listen to your apology. Let whatever'll happen after that happen." She waggled her eyebrows.

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