THE GIRL I NEVER HAD, PART 6

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay in bed, eyes wide open, replaying JK’s lies over and over. He’d gone too far this time. He had bitten more than he could chew, and I was ready to make him choke on it.

“I’ll make him suffer,” I whispered to myself. “I’ll make him cry. I’ll make him beg for his life.”

JK had thrown a stone at me, but I would throw a flower back at him—and remember to fling the flower pot with it.

I was boiling. So angry my body felt weak. My temperature climbed. My hands shook. The room spun. I tried to call my mother. I gathered everything left inside me and screamed her name. Then darkness.

When I opened my eyes, I was on a hospital bed. My first time being admitted. The room was large, lined with empty beds dressed in crisp white sheets. I felt small and weak.

A nurse walked in. She came straight to my bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m awesome,” I croaked.

Her smile was warm enough to lift me off the mattress. “Good answer,” she said. “Take your medicine and rest. Your mother’s gone home to make food for you. Oh—and one more thing. You’ll be getting a partner soon. Prepare for her.”

A partner? And a she? This hospital had wards for men and women, didn’t it? Why dump us together like this? I muttered silent curses in my head.

Then she entered. Not just the nurse—her. She came in with her mother, half leaning on them for support. They helped her to the bed across from mine. She moved slowly, exhausted. I watched, trying to make out her face. She looked familiar—too familiar. Please, not who I think it is.

Her mother left her with the nurse and came over to me. “How are you, my son?” she asked softly. “My daughter’s just been transferred from the intensive care unit to this ward.”

I nodded, still staring. “What’s wrong with her?”

The woman sighed. “She tried to kill herself last night.”

Shock rooted me to the bed. “Why?”

“She came home from school yesterday looking troubled. She wouldn’t eat. She cried and cried. Finally she confessed—she’d conspired with a boy to spread lies about a classmate. Because of her, the boy might be expelled. She couldn’t live with the guilt.”

My heart stopped. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

The woman looked at me. “Lucy.”