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I rolled my eyes again and said slowly, “Why are you so obsessed with me? You had to swap my gift to my friend, isolate me in the dorm, steal my speech, and accuse me of plagiarism. We had no beef, yet you targe ted me at every turn.”
Susan burst out laughing, a bitter, self–mocking sound. “I was jealous of the expensive gift your friend gave you. I was jealous of your amazing friends. Most of all, I was jealous that you could be so cold and aloof and still have such a great group of friends so easily. I wanted to make your friends hate you, make our classma tes hate you, make everyone hate you.”
As soon as she finished, she screamed at me, “Come here! Come to me!”
My first instinct was to run, but the police were behind me. They saw my terrified expression and gave me a eassuring look, motioning for me to go ahead.
forced myself to walk towards her, step by step, hoping she wouldn’t go crazy and take me with her.
Before I could get close, she lunged, grabbing my arm and wrapping her hands around my waist, and ther
she fell backward.
n that moment, I thought I was really going to die.
The wind roared in my ears, the crowd gasped, and with her body cushioning my fall, we landed on the infla able airbag the firefighters had set up below.
Thankfully, it was an old building, only six stories high. And since I landed on top of her, I was mostly unhar ned.
But I was still terrified. The moment we hit the airbag, I slapped her across the face several times. “Are you nsane? If you want to die, die by yourself! Why did you have to drag someone else with you?”
she lay on the airbag, motionless. The paramedics rushed over and found that her leg was broken. She was ifted onto a stretcher and taken away in an ambulance.
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I checked myself over and found no injuries, but for safety’s sake, the paramedics advised me to go to the hospital for a full check–up.
The results came back normal, but the doctor suggested I stay for observation for a couple of days.
On the second day, just as I was about to be discharged, someone called my name from the doorway of my room. I turned to see three familiar faces.
Branna and my other two friends were standing there, holding a fruit basket, looking hesitant.
Brianna was the first to speak. “Leah, we heard you were in the hospital. We came to see you.”
My voice was polite but distant. “Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for coming. Maybe you should go see your good friend Susan
Brianna looked embarrassed. “Leah, I’m sorry. We… we apologize. We really didn’t mean to. We were just so careless, and we ignored your feelings.”
A complicated emotion churned inside me. Why do we call people friends? Isn’t it because we “know” each other better? When that “knowledge” turns into hurt, can it really be explained away as carelessness?
But I didn’t care anymore.
Some people are only meant to walk with us for a part of the journey, to see a part of the scenery. There’s no
need to hold on, no need to dwell on it.
I looked at them and shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past.”
