eating,” he said simply.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, I nodded and watched him plod to the door.
From the outside, I heard the doctor’s murmured words. “Mr. and Mrs. Samuelle, your daughter is depressed, and my prescription is lots of love. Encourage her to spend time with friends. Make her eat well. She seems to have the willpower, and I believe she’s past the worst.”
In the doorway, Mom squeezed Dad. He stroked her back and smiled at the physician. “Sir, we appreciate you coming out on Christmas Eve like this. Thank you so, so much.”
Exhaustion rolled over me. I wanted them all to leave. With my back to the door, I curled up against the wall.
I drifted in the twilight between wake and sleep when fingers, steady and cool as crystal, spread over my heart. They remained there, comforting me. When their weight finally dissipated, the blackness of grief went with them, leaving a tolerable shade of gray to saturate the hole in my chest.
****
That Christmas, my parents splurged on good restaurants and decadent homemade meals. We spent the holidays as a family at the ice rink, on wintery beaches, and at the movies. Mom encouraged me to give Marina a call, but I couldn’t because too much had happened. I didn’t know how to handle the whirl of emotions inside.
The biggest surprise came when my dad, who’d always been uptight about boys, suggested I call “the kid with the rented minivan.” I wished hanging out with Lucio could subdue the ache of Gabriel’s absence.
Gabriel. I tried not to think of him. The excruciating heartache burned off on the eighth day, but I wasn’t happy. Instead I endured his absence.
My heart was made of cement. Now, I owned a glorified muscle that hammered blood through my veins. In the end, I followed Dad’s suggestion. I did call Marina’s cousin.
“Hi, Lucio. What’s up?”
“Hey…Nothing much. You?” He sounded cautiously happy to hear from me.
“Been sick, but I’m fine now.”
“Yeah, Marina called your house.”
“Oh, she did? My parents forgot to tell me, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” The contrast between Lucio and his chatterbox cousin really stood out on the phone.
“So…you want to go do something?” I asked.
An uneasy silence followed before he replied. “Yeah, I’m game.”
The bowling alley two blocks from our house was an easy pick—the perfect place to kill time without being misleading. Once there, I enjoyed Lucio’s company more than I’d imagined. He even managed to launch me into giggles once. That ability seemed to run in their family.
With his dry, self-deprecating sense of humor, Lucio slammed his own mediocre bowling skills and let me off the hook even though I was the lousiest bowler on the planet.
Things were more awkward at school in the beginning. For seven days, Marina ignored me. She and Cody, who’d gone Facebook-official over the holidays, moved to the end of our lunch table where they spent their time whispering to each other.
Entertainment-wise, our end of the table made up for Marina’s silence by being rowdier than usual. Unfortunately, most activity centered around food pranks.
“Guys—this is freaking third grade all over again,” I said, confiscating the last packets of ketchup.
“Hey, he was ogling my pie.”
“Well, he can’t do that anymore now, can he, Lucio?” I sent Kyle another glance. He was laughing and groaning in pain. “Hurts!”
“Here, try to scrape the ketchup off your eyeball with this.” I passed him a wadded-up napkin soaked in water. “Do you realize I spend my lunches smoothing out your shenanigans?”
“Not true!” Kyle’s suddenly one-eyed stare was too innocent.
“No? Any major events from yesterday’s lunch you’d care to relive with me, Kyle?”
He looked confused. “The fish sticks episode?”
“No, that was two days ago. Yesterday somebody whipped out their breakfast yogurt.”
“Ah, yes!” Lucio and Kyle grinned and high fived. “Good
Letting out a shuddering sigh, I nodded and watched him plod to the door.
From the outside, I heard the doctor’s murmured words. “Mr. and Mrs. Samuelle, your daughter is depressed, and my prescription is lots of love. Encourage her to spend time with friends. Make her eat well. She seems to have the willpower, and I believe she’s past the worst.”
In the doorway, Mom squeezed Dad. He stroked her back and smiled at the physician. “Sir, we appreciate you coming out on Christmas Eve like this. Thank you so, so much.”
Exhaustion rolled over me. I wanted them all to leave. With my back to the door, I curled up against the wall.
I drifted in the twilight between wake and sleep when fingers, steady and cool as crystal, spread over my heart. They remained there, comforting me. When their weight finally dissipated, the blackness of grief went with them, leaving a tolerable shade of gray to saturate the hole in my chest.
****
That Christmas, my parents splurged on good restaurants and decadent homemade meals. We spent the holidays as a family at the ice rink, on wintery beaches, and at the movies. Mom encouraged me to give Marina a call, but I couldn’t because too much had happened. I didn’t know how to handle the whirl of emotions inside.
The biggest surprise came when my dad, who’d always been uptight about boys, suggested I call “the kid with the rented minivan.” I wished hanging out with Lucio could subdue the ache of Gabriel’s absence.
Gabriel. I tried not to think of him. The excruciating heartache burned off on the eighth day, but I wasn’t happy. Instead I endured his absence.
My heart was made of cement. Now, I owned a glorified muscle that hammered blood through my veins. In the end, I followed Dad’s suggestion. I did call Marina’s cousin.
“Hi, Lucio. What’s up?”
“Hey…Nothing much. You?” He sounded cautiously happy to hear from me.
“Been sick, but I’m fine now.”
“Yeah, Marina called your house.”
“Oh, she did? My parents forgot to tell me, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” The contrast between Lucio and his chatterbox cousin really stood out on the phone.
“So…you want to go do something?” I asked.
An uneasy silence followed before he replied. “Yeah, I’m game.”
The bowling alley two blocks from our house was an easy pick—the perfect place to kill time without being misleading. Once there, I enjoyed Lucio’s company more than I’d imagined. He even managed to launch me into giggles once. That ability seemed to run in their family.
With his dry, self-deprecating sense of humor, Lucio slammed his own mediocre bowling skills and let me off the hook even though I was the lousiest bowler on the planet.
Things were more awkward at school in the beginning. For seven days, Marina ignored me. She and Cody, who’d gone Facebook-official over the holidays, moved to the end of our lunch table where they spent their time whispering to each other.
Entertainment-wise, our end of the table made up for Marina’s silence by being rowdier than usual. Unfortunately, most activity centered around food pranks.
“Guys—this is freaking third grade all over again,” I said, confiscating the last packets of ketchup.
“Hey, he was ogling my pie.”
“Well, he can’t do that anymore now, can he, Lucio?” I sent Kyle another glance. He was laughing and groaning in pain. “Hurts!”
“Here, try to scrape the ketchup off your eyeball with this.” I passed him a wadded-up napkin soaked in water. “Do you realize I spend my lunches smoothing out your shenanigans?”
“Not true!” Kyle’s suddenly one-eyed stare was too innocent.
“No? Any major events from yesterday’s lunch you’d care to relive with me, Kyle?”
He looked confused. “The fish sticks episode?”
“No, that was two days ago. Yesterday somebody whipped out their breakfast yogurt.”
“Ah, yes!” Lucio and Kyle grinned and high fived. “Good
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