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My reflection stares back at me in the mirror. I’ve become so used to this distorted version of myself, I barely remember what I used to look like. My lips are chapped and bruised, my eyes are bloodshot with two dark circles on display and my cheeks are hollow. I guess I’ve kind of just stopped taking care of myself. Honestly, why should I bother? It’s not like anyone even cares whether I’m here anymore.
I reach up and let my hair out. I’ve had it in the same bun since yesterday morning. My hair falls along my shoulders, tousled and unclean. Here’s where others would say something along the lines of ‘fuck’, probably.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a knock at my door. I consider playing dead for a moment, in the hopes that whoever’s seeking me will leave me alone. Yet it feels kind of mean, and I’d like to believe I haven’t gotten mean, even if I’m less than kind to myself.
“Who’s there?” I call out, and I hate how raucous it comes out.
“Max?” comes the answer. “Wait, that sounded like a question.” She clears her throat. “I mean, I know it’s me. Max. Caulfield. Yeah.” I tiredly make my way over to the door to let her in. She offers me an apologetic smile and I step aside to allow her to traipse into my dorm.
“Hey, Kate.” Her eyes travel over my face, probably judging everything that’s off. I’m more than aware I look sickly. “I brought this for you.” She hands me a few pages of papers bundled together. They look like they’ve been clumsily ripped out of a legal pad. “They’re notes. Since you, uh, missed class today.” She’s trying to be polite, everyone knows I’ve ditched more classes than I’ve attended the last couple weeks.
“Oh, Max, you didn’t have to-”, I start, but she dismisses it with a wave.
“I wanted to.” She smiles at me and I accept the papers. I walk over to my desk. It’s extremely cluttered. A few plates, scrunched up papers and various school supplies lie spread across it. I put Max’s papers in the desk drawer for safe keeping. Then I sit down on my bed, which I’ve luckily made for once. I gesture at the space next to me, and Max sits down, her knee almost touching mine.
“Thank you, Max. For the notes.” I try to maintain what I think is an appropriate amount of eye contact. I heard about a 70/30 rule somewhere? So I’m trying that. “I appreciate it, really.”
Max smiles so sweetly at me, and I try to return it, I swear. But it’s hard, because any sort of expression of emotion from me feels fake these days. My attempt turns into a yawn, that I try to stifle with the back of my hand, but Max catches it. “Tired?” she asks. I intend to answer, but another yawn cuts me off, so I just nod. I don’t know what time it is but whatever sunlight can make its way through the closed jalousies died out long ago.
“Do you want me to leave?” she asks, and I’m taken aback by the knot that forms in my stomach. No, I don’t want you to leave. But I’ve never known how to ask for things. How do you ask someone to stay? If I do, will she think I mean something by it? That there’s something else to it, other than me simply enjoying her company? If so, I’m sure she’d leave. I bet she’s looking for an out of this friendship, a reason to cut herself off from the walking depressed mess that is Kate Marsh. I feel something brush against my palm. I look down to see Max’s hand in mine, squeezing lightly and I instinctively squeeze back. When I meet her eyes again she looks concerned. I realize I’ve been quiet for some time.
“No.” I break eye contact completely, opting to stare down at my shoes. I can feel Max’s gaze still focused on me and I have to fight the urge to shield my face with the back of my free hand. Okay, Kate, just get out with it. “Can you stay?” I feel the pain of rejection before I even finish, a heavy weight settling in my chest. “Just for a while, I mean.” I try to keep my tone as casual and non-desperate as possible, so she won’t think of me as weird, or too intense. But this is Max. She’s too nice to say any of the things I tell myself when I look in the mirror. She runs her thumb over the back of my hand, ducking her head to force me to meet her gaze.
I search her eyes, but I don’t find any of the disgust I was expecting. Her eyes are kind, as always. Again, this is Max we’re talking about. I find myself needing the reminder more often lately. “Of course, I’ll stay.” I feel myself let out a shaky breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then again, maybe she’s just being humble, simply taking pity on me. People don’t stick around someone like me because they actually like me. They stick around because they’re afraid I’ll try to jump off another roof at the first sign of a minor inconvenience.
Max squeezes my hand again, as if to pull me out of whatever world I’ve drifted off to. “What are you thinking?” she asks, and it’s such a simple question. Yet I struggle to find an answer. She’s still looking at me, patiently. I must be a sight for sore eyes. I almost can’t believe she hasn’t commented on my appearance yet. I’m pale and skinny and the circles under my eyes physically can’t get darker. I think of so many things, but I can’t tell her any of them. I know it’d upset her to hear me berate myself.
“I care about you”, she says quietly. “I want to support you in whatever way you need. If that means just sitting here in silence, so be it. If there’s anything else you need, you can tell me.” She bumps her shoulder against mine. “You’ll never be a burden to me.” I can feel the weight in my chest lifting slightly. Her reassurance makes me want to cry. But I don’t want to cry in front of her. She’s dealing with stuff too and I want to be there for her like she’s been there for me. Yet I can’t stop a few stray tears from falling. Max lets go of my hand to wipe them away with her thumbs. She smiles at me again and I collapse. I close in on myself, crossing my arms over my chest. I’m sobbing and I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel two arms wrap around me and I lean into the touch. She holds me, tracing nonsensical patterns on my back.
“I’m sorry”, I say.
“What for?”
I’ve been trying to stop apologizing so much. There are so many things I’m sorry about, but I know most of them aren’t very reasonable. “You came over to help and now I’m crying all over your shirt.” Max laughs at that. I guess it sounds kind of silly.
“Kate, it’s okay. I can wash it later. Besides, it’s a small price to pay.” I’m not quite sure what she means by that, but I’m also close to dozing off in her arms. I consider asking Max to leave, so we both can get some sleep. I know at least one of us is planning to actually show up for class in the morning. “It’s late”, she says, as if on cue.
“Don’t leave me.” I intended to tell her to go back to her dorm, but the knot in my stomach came back and the words slipped out before I could stop myself. I feel her shift out of the embrace, and I’m struck by panic, afraid I crossed a line. She places her hands on my shoulders, looking in my eyes. I don’t meet her gaze. Is this where she yells at me?
“I’m not going anywhere.” She tilts her head. “But you should get some rest. I can stay with you until you fall asleep.” I wipe my eyes and nod. She shifts again, laying down on my bed. She takes a hold of my wrist, tugging lightly until I lay down next to her. Now we’re just lying on my bed, facing each other. I think this is awkward? Yeah, this is pretty awkward. “Uhm.” She lifts her arm, as if she’s going to put it around me, but hesitates and just kind of has her arm in the air. Dork.
“Is it okay if-?” she starts, apparently finding this just as awkward as I do.
“Yes”, I say, and she seems grateful to not have to finish the question. She puts her arm around me and I wrap my arms around her waist in return. She moves a little closer and I tuck my head under her chin. This isn’t romantic, right? I doubt she thinks of it that way. In any case, I couldn’t handle a relationship in my current mental state. The arm I have positioned under her is already falling asleep, but I’m scared that if I move, I’ll break the moment.
“Kate?”
I try to answer her but my voice is too hoarse for anything to come out. I clear my throat. “Mh?”
“I’m glad you’re here”, she says, her voice quiet and soft.
“I’m glad you’re here with me.” And I mean it. I really do.