Chapter 23
I pretend everything is okay. Since the phone call where I realized Bo is going on with his life, as he should apart from me, I do what I must. I pretend everything else doesn’t affect me.
At school, I pretend the hurtful things Mark and his group say about me don’t bother me. Harmony is too busy to notice how much I loathe her new boyfriend. Even the house isn’t safe, so I spend most of my time inside the sanctuary of my room. Outside it, I paste on a fake smile. With the Tempest versus Brutal Strength contest and fundraising concert coming up, my parents are too preoccupied to hassle me about being a recluse.
When I’m feeling really down, I consider telling Bo how I feel, but I talk myself out of it. He’s too far away to help, and he has other friends now, ones in a band. Though he refuses to call it that, a band is what it is, and I’m happy for him. He’s succeeding at being himself. He’s doing life his way. He’s pursuing his dream.
Bo and I are drifting apart. I have a lot to do with it. I won’t cling. He has his world, and one day, I just know he’ll set it on fire like the shooting star we saw ages ago. I have my books to escape into, and my journal for my troubling thoughts. But those things don’t silence the hurtful words that loop continuously through my brain. Reading and journaling don’t make me feel better like sharing with Bo once did. Maybe the kids at school are right. Maybe I am a freak.
Stop it, Peace. I swipe the spilled tears from my cheeks. Don’t feel sorry for yourself. I try. I want to stop feeling this way, but when my gaze snags on my reflection in the mirror across from my bed, I can’t help it. I sob. Deep inside, I hurt so badly. And the things they say about my new glasses and the way they make me look are the worst.
I need Bo. I grab my phone.
“Hello,” he answers immediately, and I almost smile. We don’t talk daily anymore. Not even weekly. That’s my choice. I’m letting him go. But he still picks up like this almost every time I call.
“Hey.” I swallow hard. “Do you have a few minutes to chat today?”
“I always have time for you, PJ, but you sound funny.” His voice deepens with concern and my stomach flutters in response. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” A lie. I’m not fine. Far from it. My dad noticed before he got too busy, but his solution just made me sadder. I don’t fit in with Harmony’s friends.
“You don’t sound fine.”
Bo is the only one who can tell my lies from the truth. But I can’t let my sadness drag him down.
“How’s school?” I force brightness into my tone. Getting up from my bed, I move to the window. Peeling back the curtain, I look out. My gaze falls on the firepit where Bo and I made promises to each other. It feels like those events happened a lifetime ago to someone else.
“It sucks,” he mutters bitterly. “I might flunk Algebra. My old man is going to kill me.”
“Can I help?” I don’t want to drag him down, but I want to help him if I can.
“You probably could help.” He sighs. “If you were here, I’d have you go over the test questions with me. I just need a C on the final to pass.”
“I can help you with the problems now if you have time,” I offer.
“Can’t now. I was just on my way to work.”
“Oh.” I drop my chin to my chest. I’m holding him up. I’m lucky he answered the phone, though it’s obvious he really doesn’t have time for me. “How’s Car?”
“Same asshole as always,” he replies, but I hear the warmth of affection in his voice. “Fuck the school shit. I could use your help with the chorus to ‘Wish On.’”
“I worked on it some last night.” I love the moody opening riff. Bo emailed it to me a few weeks ago. It’s a ballad, and in my opinion, it’s as good as anything our dads have ever done. “I’ll read you what I have. Hold on.”
I release the curtain and go to my bed. Picking up my journal, I flip through the pages with my cell balanced between my head and shoulder. “Wish on, wish on, wish on,” I begin. “Wish until your wish comes true.”
“That’s perfect.” He breathes praise and doesn’t realize it lifts my feet off the floor. “I love it.”
“It’s nothing special.”
“I disagree. I was stuck. But those words fit the tone of the song perfectly. And they’ll sound fantastic when Car sings them.”
“You harmonize well with him.” I really enjoyed listening the time he kept the phone connection open during band rehearsal.
“I miss you.” His meaningful rumble rolls through me, lifting my spirit like the opening chords to his beautiful song.
“I miss you too,” I admit, my heart aching with longing.
“I wish I could see you in person. Can you FaceTime me today?”
“No.” Touching my glasses, my voice cracks with sudden panic.
“Why the hell not?” he asks.
“Because.” I run my finger along the rim of my glasses that he has never seen. Because he’s strong and confident and likely has grown handsomer during the months we’ve been apart; whereas, I’ve only gotten sadder and more awkward. “I have to go.” I lie to him for the second time on this call. “Harmony is calling me.”
“Maybe we’ll do it tomorrow then,” he says softly.
“I have stuff to do after school tomorrow.” I want to see him, but I fear everything will change if he sees me. I want to continue having him like this for as long as I can.
“Can I call you the day after?” he asks.
“I’m going to be really busy,” I hedge.
“All right, I guess.” He exhales heavily. My stomach knots knowing I’ve disappointed him. “So tell me, what’s going on with you? Did you ever try out for the choir?”
“I did,” I reply. “But they chose Harmony not me.” Mom and Dad were thrilled for her. They didn’t even notice that doing the tryout made me physically sick.
“I thought for sure you’d get in. Did you sing like I told you to?”
“I tried to.” My throat was too tight, and I trembled so badly it took me forever to start. Then when I did, I sounded like I was singing into a fan.
“You have a beautiful voice, PJ.”
“I’m glad you think so.” My cheeks warm. No one else thinks there’s anything beautiful about me, least of all me.
“Maybe you can try again.”
“Maybe.” My dad wants me to sing at an open mic thing, but there’s still time for me to get out of it.
“How about your English class?” he asks. “You still reading The Outsiders ?”
“Yeah.” I can totally relate to the characters who feel like they don’t fit in anywhere. “But we’ll talk about it some more another time. We should get off the phone since you need to go, and I need to see what Harmony wants.” Plus, I’m afraid if we talk longer, I’ll spill everything, and he’ll reach the conclusion everyone else has. I don’t think I could handle it if Bo decides I’m a loser.
“Bye, Peace.”
I love the longing in his voice, or at least I think it’s longing. I can almost believe he lives for these rare moments when we get to talk like I do.
“Bye, Bo.” I end the call. Tears shimmering, I sit alone in silence. I hide behind a wall of my own making. No one, not even Bo, realizes that I feel like I’m dying inside.