Page 58 of The Girl He Loves
He doesn’t seem to notice, and my heartbeat recovers. “It was posted about three weeks ago.”
He nods, all smiles. “Yes, I love that pic.”
“Well…”
He eyes me curiously, his mouth flirting with the straw of his smoothie.
“Have you ever really looked at that photo?”
His brows knit together. “No… why?”
“I’m a pretty observant person,” I say. “It’s just the way I am… anyway, I noticed…” I can’t say the words. What if I’m wrong? What if I’m overreacting? But what if I’m not?
“You noticed what?”
Swiftly, I finally utter the words I’ve been painstakingly holding on to. “I think your daughter cuts herself.”
Joel’s eyes grow wide, and he’s speechless, frozen with shock.
“I noticed small cuts on her wrist in the photo,” I explain. “It’s barely noticeable, but if you look close…”
Joel is still without words, and the look on his face breaks me; a sad mix of shock and devastation.
“I then clicked on her profile because I was curious, and I was going through her timeline. I noticed that she seemed… sad, and she’s always wearing that red sweater… it’s true. And then there was that poem.”
“I… she has…” he stammers, at a loss for words. “Yeah, that poem was intense, and I did notice that she seemed upset lately. I asked her about it, but she didn’t want to talk.”
“Teenagers can be like that,” I say. “I don’t have girls but…”
His gaze fixes mine. “You think she really could be cutting herself?”
“It’s quite possible. A lot of girls do it. I researched it after I saw the photo. Apparently it’s a release from the negative emotions. It feels good.” I don’t confess that I was also a cutter when I was younger, which is the reason I’m familiar with it.
He shakes his head. “That’s so fucked up.”
His words catch me by surprise. I’ve never heard him curse before.
“Well, you might want to talk to her about it,” I suggest. “Ask her to show you her arms.”
“I will,” he says. “Thank you, Mischa. Thank you for caring and letting me know.”
My heart swells and my pulses eases. He doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker.
I am, there’s no question about that. But he has no clue.
28
Brian and I and the boys are playing Sorry — we all get pretty competitive and ruthless when we play this game.This is nice, I think as I watch Tristan move his pawn back four spaces. He’s not happy — he was close to his safety zone, and now he’s vulnerable again. Trevor’s hand is buried in a bowl of popcorn. Brian is sipping from a can of Coke. It’s his turn.
We used to play boardgames all the time when the boys were small; Sorry, Mastermind, Clue, Risk… kids Monopoly. These days, we barely spend anytime together. I resolve to make this a regular happening.
“Sorry,” Brian says to Tristan as he takes out his pawn. Poor Tristan looks completely defeated. Brian is so ruthless when he plays this game, any game for that matter. He’s always been that way. Suddenly, I want to avenge Tristan.
When my turn is up, I pick a Sorry card and have the option to take out either Brian or Trevor. Taking out Trevor will take me closer to my safety zone, but I can’t do that to my boy. And I still want to avenge Tristan. I shoot Brian an impish grin as I take out his pawn.
He shakes his head. “I’m not surprised,” he says. “You never pick on the boys.”
I laugh and wrap my arm around Tristan. “Of course I don’t… they’re my precious boys. Sorry, you’re the only one left to pick on.”
