The Hate Between Us, page 8
“That’s all crap. All of it. Why me? Why did it have to happen to me?”
“Oh, Katie.” She made me look at her. Her eyes glistened with tears, and they only added to the heavy weight in my chest. “I know you need time. But I’ll help you get through this. Dad and I will always be here for you.”
How she thought they would help me I had no idea.
“I don’t need time. I need my legs.” I closed my eyes as I dug my fingers into the material of her shirt. “I want my legs back, Mom. Why can’t I have my legs back?”
She didn’t say anything; she just held me as I wept and wept, sagging against her, until I was spent and didn’t feel anything but a deep hollow in my stomach that would never disappear. Worn out, I closed my eyes against her shoulder and dozed off, only vaguely aware of her moving me so that I lay fully on my bed before kissing me on my forehead.
After what felt like minutes but could’ve been hours, I opened my eyes and straightened up with the urge to pee. I headed for the bathroom but paused as I heard voices from the kitchen.
“She’s not okay, Graham,” my mom said. “Far from it. We need to start therapy as soon as possible.”
I peered around the corner and saw Dad leaning against the kitchen counter, looking more tired than ever.
He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’ll manage to save enough to cover it for this month by the end of this week.”
Great. They were now sending me to a therapist and spending more money we didn’t have. Like we hadn’t had enough expenses since the accident.
“I’m worried for her,” Mom said, her voice wavering. “I’m afraid she will—”
“Shhh. Don’t say that.” He approached her and pulled her into his arms. “She won’t. We have to trust her.”
“But you didn’t see her. She started hurting herself and . . . I’m so afraid for her.”
“We’ll fix this. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she’s okay.”
I fisted my hands, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath.
Not only was I a freak at school, but I was also a freak at home.
A ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment.
Caroline should’ve just killed me. It would’ve been doing me a favor.
My chest split with pain.
My parents kept telling me that staying alive at any cost was better than dying. That I was lucky I was alive.
But I had yet to believe that was true.
“My parents are sending me to therapy,” I said to Dylan.
Radiohead blared from the car speakers, removing almost all possibility of conversation, but this was one of those mornings when Dylan was so full of energy nothing could stop her.
She backed off the volume. “What’s that again?”
“I said, my parents are sending me to therapy. I’m an official weirdo from now on.”
She lowered her shades an inch and gave me a pointed look. “Hey, therapy is cool. Can I come with you if your therapist is sexy?”
“You have a boyfriend.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t look. There’s nothing wrong with just looking.”
I rolled my eyes.
Dylan cast a glance at me. She made it look casual, but I’d learned to discern when she was studying me. She was simply too worried for me, observing me as though I were too fragile, just like my parents did. Especially after how abruptly I’d left school yesterday.
“Did something happen to make them decide that?”
I forced a chuckle out of me. “Relax. Nothing happened.”
The bruises on my legs disagreed. Not that they were the first.
“You’re forgetting that I know you. You don’t know how to lie. Seriously, tell me. Does it have something to do with everyone’s reactions to you being Chloe? Or with your argument with Jason?”
I sighed. I knew she would pester me for the truth, so I decided to get it over with. I recounted my breakdown and Jason’s words, which put an end to Dylan’s good mood. She parked her car in her spot and turned to look at me, taking off her shades to reveal a frown.
“I’m going to kill that asshole. He pushed you too far.”
“It’s not like he told me something I didn’t know already.”
She caught my hand. “No. Stop that. Everything he said was bullshit. You’re not an eyesore or a loser or without talent, Kat. How could you ever think that?”
Hurt glimmered in her eyes. I looked away.
“We’ve talked about this, and I know no one can force you to feel okay if you don’t feel okay. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you or anything.” But you are. “But you can achieve so much if only you put your mind to it. You know how they say the sky’s the limit? Wrong. You’re the only limit. And once you realize no one can actually stop you, you can go a long way.”
Dylan should seriously consider becoming a motivational speaker because the girl could find a positive even in the most negative thing imaginable.
But if only words could heal, we wouldn’t have wars and depression.
“There’s just one loophole there—my legs are my limit. And sure, I can go a long way—in a wheelchair—because without it, I’m nothing.”
Her hands balled into fists. Dylan rarely lost her temper, but right now, she was seconds away from it. “That’s not true! Your wheelchair doesn’t make you who you are. You’re so much more. And just look at what you’ve already achieved. You’re Chloe—”
“Which I’m not sure was right to begin with.”
“Wait, what? You can’t seriously think that. Don’t let that jerk or anyone else spoil this for you. You—”
Seth knocked on her window, peering in at her. “Why aren’t you getting out? Is something wrong?”
She gritted her teeth and sucked in a long breath. She gave me a level gaze before she turned and opened her door, stepping out.
Seth pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What’s that face for? Did someone die?”
“Your friend is the one who’s going to die. I’ll personally make sure of it. Where is he?”
“You’ll have to be more precise. I have lots of friends.” He winked at her, chuckling.
This was so not the time for him to be arrogant or play dumb, and he caught on to that when Dylan’s face turned grim.
His smile fell. He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, what’s going on?”
I peered out of the car. “Hi, Seth. Dee, will you bring me my chair? I don’t want to spend the rest of the day here.”
“I’ll do it,” Seth said, taking the keys from Dylan, and went to open the trunk. He pulled my chair out and unfolded it. “Is this about Jason?”
I blushed. Did he know the details?
“Did Jason tell you what happened?” I asked.
“Not really.” He brought my wheelchair around to the passenger side. “Do you need help?”
I shook my head as I pulled back the armrest and positioned the chair the way I wanted it before he engaged the brakes and I transferred.
“He just said he couldn’t stand you. Sorry. Don’t kill the messenger,” he added when my face fell. “As I already told you, he’s not a bad person, I swear.”
Dylan snorted. “Not a bad person? Have you seen him around Katie lately?”
“I know, but I told you—he’s just having a hard time, that’s all.”
“That doesn’t justify it,” Dylan said. “We all have problems, but we don’t go around taking it out on other people.”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir.” He took her by her hand and pulled her after him.
As we made our way across the parking lot, Jason’s old, black Chevy Equinox pulled in to his spot. He had some new chick sitting in his passenger seat. The corners of my mouth pulled up in a sneer. He was already on his third girl since the first day of school, not that I was paying attention. Sort of.
“And there’s the jerk himself,” Dylan said, coming to a stop.
Seth groaned. “Babe, leave him alone. It’s too early to start a fight.”
The girl snaked her arm around Jason’s as they started their trek to the school. His pace was slow, and a smile played on his lips as she told him something. The smile illuminated his whole face and added sparkles to his eyes. It was almost painful seeing how beautiful he looked, as if there was no ugliness inside of him. But then his eyes found me, and a familiar curtain fell over his face. He nodded to Seth, but he didn’t stop, moving ahead of us.
“Hey, you!” Dylan started, but I captured her hand, pulling her to a stop.
“Don’t, Dee. It’s not worth it.”
“Of course it’s worth it! He can’t just treat you like a jerk and get away with it.”
“I know, but I’m already tired of arguing with him. Let him be.”
She didn’t look happy about my request, but she dropped it. My stomach churned as we entered the school and some students looked my way. I almost expected them to start whispering all over again.
“Don’t pay attention to them,” Dylan reminded me as we went to my locker. “They’ll get tired of it.”
That was overly optimistic of her to say because I spent the next few periods enduring constant gazes and questions. Some people congratulated me, and some were just curious to know what it felt like to act in a wheelchair. Like acting while sitting in a chair? But there were also a few sneers and whispers that all boiled down to one thing—how could they have cast me, of all people?
This only filled me with more self-doubt, and before I knew it, I was on my way to Ms. Holloway’s office the moment third period finished.
She was seated at her desk when I entered. She gave me a curious look above the rims of her glasses. “Katie, what can I do for you?”
I stopped next to her desk. “I wanted to talk to you. About Chloe.”
She took off her glasses and leaned back against her seat. “Yes? What about her?”
I dropped my gaze to my chewed-up nails. “I don’t think I’m a good choice.”
She leaned her elbows against her desk and pressed her fingertips together. “I told you yesterday you’re going to do just fine. If this is about what Jason said, don’t let that stop you.”
“But are you sure Tallie isn’t the best choice? Like really sure?”
Something I couldn’t decipher passed through her eyes. “Why do you think Tallie is better than you?”
“Because she is. She’s so much more talented, and she’s got a lot more experience.”
“It may seem that way, but there are more factors at play when looking for the right actor.”
“There are?”
She nodded. “Yes. We also look for a person who’s going to convey a certain character best, and in this case, that was you. Tallie’s performance paled next to yours. Not only that—I don’t see her as Chloe. While she delivered the lines, there was no substance behind it. I didn’t feel the emotions Chloe deals with.
“As for you, I felt your every single word. You understood her and expressed her emotions like they were your own. On top of that, you were one of my brightest students in drama club last year. The way you portray emotions really sticks with a viewer for a long time. It’s as if you’re not even acting. But your problem has always been your mindset, which has prevented you from truly shining through in your auditions. I’m sure this time you’ll be able to work past that, just like you did during your audition.”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My chest inflated as a sudden load of emotions hit me. Grief, anger, fear, dejection . . . All of it combined into an almost lethal dose that had been administered to me almost every day since the accident.
I was terrified of failure. Of proving to myself what I already knew—I was just baggage and was never going to succeed at anything. I thought that night had put an end to my acting ambition, but now I was Chloe, and I was afraid to even let myself hope. To hope my wheelchair wasn’t the end. To hope that life wasn’t that black.
Besides, hearing her say my acting was good made everything feel more surreal.
My heart pumped hard. “Are you sure I’m not just being treated preferentially? Because I’m in a wheelchair?”
She gave me a long, steadfast gaze that made me want to squirm. My cheeks flushed with color. “Absolutely not. I think you know by now I don’t do preferential treatment. Quality is above everything.” She linked her hands together on the desk. “I’m not sure if it’s my place to say this, but I feel like you’re too hard on yourself, Katie. I understand that you’ve been given a hard road, but whatever your circumstances, you can offer the world so much. You can go far if only you allow yourself to soar.”
Now she sounded exactly like Dylan.
“It’s not that easy,” I mumbled, staring at the cracked skin of my hands. There was something about Ms. Holloway—maybe the honesty in her eyes, or maybe that she cared so much—that pushed me to be honest to her. To reveal something I hadn’t revealed even to my parents. “I just don’t want people to mock me or laugh at me. I already feel weird enough with all the looks people give me.”
“They won’t, Katie. I’m sure they will love your performance. And I know it’s not easy. I can sit here and tell you about all those wonderful people in wheelchairs who have made the most out of their lives—more than many of us would ever be able to—but my words won’t mean much until you believe that you yourself are capable of great things. But one day at a time. I think this play will be great for you. It will remind you that you can do anything you want. Just don’t fear going on that stage.”
I sighed. It felt surreal imagining myself on the stage, as the main character nonetheless. “But what about Jason?”
“Don’t worry about him. He’ll come around. In fact, the tension between you two will come in handy.”
I gave her a wide-eyed look. “What do you mean?”
“That tension is exactly what we need. It will help your chemistry.”
I couldn’t hold back my sputtering laugh. She couldn’t be serious. “Chemistry? But that guy hates me.”
“Which is something we can work with. It’s better than not caring. We can channel it into exactly what we need on that stage.”
I highly doubted that. She would have to be a magician to make something constructive out of our dynamic.
“I’m not so sure about that. He isn’t going to go for it. He’s going to put up a fight, and I don’t think you want friction every step of your way. It will make it so much more difficult for the cast.”
“Leave that to me, Katie. I’ll make sure that Jason cooperates. Now, is there anything else you wish to discuss?”
“No.”
“Then you better go get your lunch.” She offered me a soft smile. “And remember—you’ll do just great.”
After school, I came home to find out Mom had made me a strawberry cake to celebrate my getting the role of Chloe. She and Dad repeated a dozen times how proud they were of me, which helped ease some of my previous insecurities. It reminded me just how much I wanted someone’s approval and validation.
I closed myself in my room and reread the script again, focusing this time fully on Chloe. It was easy—it was easy to get transported into her world, to feel her emotions. She was struggling with the same sense of defeat and worthlessness I lived with every day. When I reached the part when she found out about her cancer and was having a breakdown in her room, my tears were real as I acted out the scene. My shouts were coming from the depths of my soul. Her agony was mine.
It was also cathartic. I was able to release all the pent-up emotions that had been collecting inside of me ever since that night. I was able to lose myself in someone else’s pain and forget about mine.
But as much as I understood her, I couldn’t be sure I’d be able to convey her character in the right way, and I woke up on Friday with jitters in my stomach. It was just the first read, but the whole cast would be there to judge me, along with Jason, and I wasn’t looking forward to more of his insults.
“Don’t pay attention to him,” Dylan told me as she pulled into her parking spot. “He can bark all he wants, but once he sees he can’t get to you, he’ll stop.”
“Like it’s that easy. We’re not in kindergarten. Ignoring him won’t help.”
“Just don’t let him get in your head.” She placed her hand on mine. “Don’t believe a word he says. You’re so talented. You’re going to bring the house down, you’ll see.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks, Dee.”
She moved to open her door but then froze. Her eyes widened, and she whipped her gaze around to meet mine.
“What?”
“Kat, do you get what acting with him means?”
Other than a disaster of cataclysmic proportions? “What?”
“You two will be kissing!”
My stomach did a huge flop. Fuck. How had I not thought about that sooner? The play had a few kissing scenes, and almost all of them were intense in one way or another. I knew Ms. Holloway never allowed stage kisses—Jason and I would have to kiss for real.
I pressed my hand against my mouth as my heart began to race. There was no way he would ever agree to it. As for me, how could I kiss such a jerk? Sure, we would be acting, but it would feel so weird. We wouldn’t be able to kiss in a way that looked natural, I was sure of that.
In spite of that, my mind took a journey of its own, and images of us kissing unfolded before I could stop them. They did something weird to my stomach, and I exhaled a long breath. Heat flooded my body, making me restless.
I would be kissing Jason Adams.
He’d be my first kiss.
My cheeks flaming, I transferred to my chair when Dylan brought it around, and we started for the school. I got more nervous with each minute that passed, drawing me closer to the first read. I got so nervous I had a panic attack after PE and stayed in the locker room until I finally managed to calm down fifteen minutes later. Drenched in a cold sweat, I changed out of my PE shirt and hurried to the theater as fast as my protesting arm muscles could take me.
The whole cast, along with Ms. Holloway and Amy, was already there, seated in a circle in front of the stage with booklets in their laps. There was only one empty spot left, and it was right next to Jason.
