22 - Samantha
A few days after myblood clot scare, Cyn is hanging out with me for a few hours while Phillip and Knox handle some football related stuff. We’re in my studio where I’m printing out some digital photos and working on a file at my laptop. Generally, she’d be talking my ears off, but unusually for Cyn, she’s been pretty quiet.
“You wanna talk about it?” My eyes flick up to where she’s sitting at my Hollywood vanity playing with makeup, her back to me but I can see her reflection.
She keeps her eyes down, touching a brush to some powdered blush. “When have I ever wanted to talk about it?”
“You talk about everything. Except for today that is.”
She lifts her eyes to the mirror and applies the blush but her heart’s not in it. She gives up and lays the brush down.
I close my laptop and walk over to sit on the small bench with her, both our reflections in the mirror.
I point to the reflection. “Look at those besties.”
She doesn’t lift her eyes.
“Cyn, I said look at the mirror.”
A tear falls when her eyes lift. I turn to wipe it from her cheek, her eyes finally on the reflection.
“That’s what best friends are for.” I hold up my wet thumb, showing the shimmer of moisture on my skin. “To be there for the bad stuff too.” I look back at the reflection and hold her stare, searching for a clue. She doesn’t say anything at first but then sees me reach for her arm and hold it up. I don’t point to the Band-Aid that I know is under her shirt. “Am I the only one going through stuff? Probably not.”
She pulls her arm back and wraps both around herself in a protective hug. “You’re going through a lot.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you too.” I extend my arm around her and squeeze, still looking at our reflections in the mirror. “You’re my best friend. What hurts you hurts me. And I can clearly see you’re struggling with something. Is it me?”
“Not all you. But it’s a lot.” She shrugs. “Just... there’s a lot.”
The last thing I want is my problems to overflow into the lives of my loved ones. I never wanted to be a problem or the crisis-of-the-day, ruining everyone’s life.
“Please tell me you’re not cutting again.” I know she is but I’m daring her to lie to me.
Her shoulders slump. Busted. “I can’t. I can’t tell you I’m not because I have. Only a few times.” Her eyes dart to mine. “You’re not the only... worry.”
I hate this for her. I hate that she’s becoming guarded around me. This isn’t my Cyn. My best friend tells me more than I need to know and is full of life. The last time I saw her like this was after her family tragically lost Chase, and I hoped never to see her like this again. At the time, when I discovered she was cutting to relieve her pain, I freaked out and betrayed her confidence by seeking out her mother. Cynthia was sent to therapy. Thank goodness her mother made it look like she accidentally discovered Cynthia’s problem so we could remain friends. She knew if her daughter was resorting to something as drastic as cutting, she was fragile. She’d still need her friend in her life despite the therapy. Losing me would be too much to bear on top of things.
So, we remained best friends, Cynthia none-the-wiser and me keeping my secret with her mother. Although in this moment, I feel responsible for sending her back to the dark place she once escaped from. Maybe you never escape and only evade for a time.
I leaned my head on her shoulder, looking at the mirror. “I am here whenever. No matter what, you know that. Just because I have my own shit to deal with doesn’t mean I can’t listen and be here for you.”
“I know.” She’s still clamming up.
“I’d sing to you but—”
That earns me a partial grin. “Wouldn’t be tragic. You have better pipes than you give yourself credit for.”
“You’re better at singing to make someone feel better.” I nudge her shoulder and she nudges me back.
“Promise me you won’t cut anymore. You don’t have to talk to me right now about it if you can’t. But please. Don’t cut.”
Looking in her eyes, I can see there’s a lot of shit to unpack. Emotion and worry swirling, plus something else I can’t identify. It worries me, but I have to appear strong in this moment. For her. I have to be the strength she’s missing.
“There’s just so much. It’s almost too much. I need you better. It’ll help a lot.”
Ah. So I am the problem. “I’m going to get better. The doctors will figure it out.” I point to all of me. “This is just a bend in the road, and I lost my map.”
“Your jokes suck.” She cracks a grin and nudges me again.
“You know I don’t want my crap bleeding over into people’s lives, so don’t let it, ok? Just hang out with me and eat junk food and tell me all the inappropriate things you and Knox got up to last night.” I raise my finger and close my eyes in objection. “Better yet, don’t share those particular details.” I know she likes to make me blush is why I said it, but act like I don’t want her to tell me. I just need her at ease around me again.
“Are you done with your project? I want grilled cheese.”
She’s changing the subject for comfort food. Point taken.
“Yeah.” I lie. I’ll get back to my project later. “Let’s go eat grilled cheese and dip it in tomato soup.”
We get up from the bench and head toward the door to go downstairs.
“Is it on your list of things you can eat?”
“Today I will whether it’s on my list or not. You’re making my mouth water.”
“I’ll heat the soup,” she offers.
“I know. You work the microwave better than any cook alive.” I laugh.
“First, you have to confront the microwave,” she says in her best Julia Child voice. I’m glad she’s trying to do an impression. It means she’s trying to feel better. “Well, let’s be honest. I’d burn the grilled cheese.” Cyn bites her thumbnail.
“I’ll make it extra gooey just for you.”
She pulls her thumb away. “Now you’re speaking my love language.”
I pull her into another hug. “I’ll be ok, got it? Now you make yourself ok.”
She pulls back and answers with a quick nod, keeping her mouth tight-lipped.
“So, you want squares or triangles?”
Cynthia erupts in a throaty laugh sniffing her tears away. “I’m a triangle girl, always have been.”
“Yep, and I’m the square.”
“You’re my bestie.” Cyn finally cracks a smile, though a little forced.
“Always.”