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A gasping sob clawed its way out of my chest and sent a wave of pain through me. I’d been crying for so long now. Everything hurt.
I twisted in my bed, clutching my pillow tighter to my chest. I didn’t understand why things had to be the way they were. Why did Ma have to be gone so much? Why did Qiu and Tamarack have to fight? Why did so many people like me, admire me, want to be me, yet I still felt so alone, so broken down inside? It wasn’t fair.
Over my muffled sobs, I heard a noise. I couldn’t hear it well, but then it came again, louder. Someone was knocking on my door.
“Go away!” I yelled. It was probably Ma; she could sometimes hear me cry when she passed in the hall. I could usually dismiss her by ignoring her. She wouldn’t come into my room without asking, so if I didn’t give her permission, she’d just leave after a moment.
Whoever it was, they didn’t leave. “Abey. Abey, it’s Qiu.” There was another knock. “Can I please come in?”
I wanted to let them in. I also didn’t. Eventually, after a few jagged, heaving breaths, I relented. “Come in.” The statement hurt my raw, parched throat. I turned away and buried my face in the pillow as I heard the sound of the door opening and then closing behind me. A moment later, I felt the bed near my feet sink, accompanied by the creaking of springs.
“Your Ma called my dad and asked if I could come over,” they explained. “I didn’t know what was happening. I still don’t. But I’m here.” I felt a sudden warmth against my palm; they’d slipped their hand into mine. Fresh tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. The warmth and closeness felt good. If only it were enough to help.
Another knock. “Abey? Your Ma called Omi. Is everything okay?” It was Tamarack’s voice. “I’m worried about you.” I felt Qiu squeeze my hand as a silent question. They wanted to know if they should let her in. I nodded once, not turning towards them. I felt their hand slip out of mine, followed by the door opening once again.
“She’s not feeling great, Tamarack.” Qiu’s voice was cold like a gust of mountain wind. “She might need some space.”
“I should have figured you’d be here.” Tamarack’s voice was also hardened. It was the closest to cruel I’d ever heard her sound.
“Well, Abey is my best friend.”
“And mine.”
“Yeah, sure. Maybe, as her best friend, you should give her some space.”
“I want to be here for her. That’s not just a privilege that’s exclusive to you.”
“Why don’t you just —"
“Shut up!“ The words tore their way out of my throat. “If the two of you are going to fight then you can both just leave!” Thoroughly exhausted of their animosity, I turned away and buried my head in my pillow. Not sufficiently satisfied with the outburst, I unleashed a primal scream that was mostly muffled by the pillow.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to know if they were still there. I didn’t want to know if they’d left. I didn’t know which would be worse.
After a moment of relative silence, I felt the side of my bed dip once again.
“I’m sorry, Abey.” It was Tamarack.
“I am too.” That was Qiu.
I couldn’t help but feel relieved that they had stayed. I found it so hard to truly connect with anyone. It was all about being liked, being admired. Everyone had to know me, and everyone had to like me, but that didn’t make me any friends. None except these two, who for some reason no longer cared to be friends with each other. I was the red thread of fate that tied them by their pinkies. They needed me. And I needed them. A thread is nothing without something to connect.
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.” I said. I meant it. Mostly.