Page 62 of A Good Book

“Well, I’m here. So maybe I can put him in a better mood.”

“Gabby,” she shook her head. “His door is locked. He won’t hear you knock, and even if he could, he wouldn’t open it. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

My smile faded, but I continued up the stairs. His bedroom was the first on the right. I knocked several times.

No answer.

“Ben,” I said as if he could hear me. I tried the handle. Yup, it was locked. I pounded my fist against the door again.

The door behind me opened, and his sister Tillie stepped into the hallway.

“Hi,” I said with a pained smile.

“Hey, Gabby.” She held up a straightened paperclip. “He’s being an asshole. Excuse my language.” She shrugged. “You just have to go inside. My dad drags him out twice a week and makes him shower, but he won’t let anyone mess with his face, so he looks like Teen Wolf. And he’ll probably yell at you.”

I nodded slowly, taking the paperclip from her. The last time I saw him, he was sad, but he hugged me. He even tried to kiss me. And he braided my hair. What changed?

After unlocking the door, I slowly opened it and poked my head inside. He looked up from the floor where he sat in the middle of a pile of Legos.

No smile.

No words.

Just a brief glance before adding a new Lego to whatever he was building. Tillie was right; he had a beard that was longer than I had ever seen it. Ben looked thirty, not nineteen.

A pile of broken instruments cluttered the floor next to his open, bifold mirrored closet doors. A splintered guitar and cello. Something resembling a saxophone that looked more like a car after a head-on collision. My heart felt equally destroyed. What happened to my friend?

I closed the door behind me.

“Leave,” he said without looking at me.

I grabbed a notebook and pen from his messy desk.

I’m sorry this happened to you. But you can’t shut me out.

I set the piece of paper on the Legos in front of him. Without reading it, he ripped it into pieces and continued his building.

Why didn’t you write back?

Again, he ripped the paper before reading it.

I cleared an area on the floor and kneeled a few feet in front of him.

“Look at me,” I said, ducking my head to try to put my face in his line of sight.

He ignored me.

I reached for his hand, and he smacked mine. My heart ached, but I took a breath and pushed through my pain because I knew it wasn’t about me. When I leaned forward to press my hands to his cheeks, he shoved me.

“Ouch!” I seethed, falling backward. The unforgiving edges of Legos dug into my hands. Tears filled my eyes for many reasons, but Ben didn’t give me a single glance. He kept building like he didn’t just shove me, like I wasn’t in physical and emotional pain, like I didn’t exist.

With a ragged breath and tears streaming down my face, I grabbed two fists full of Legos and threw them at him.

He flinched, gaze shooting to me with pure anger in his eyes. I threw more Legos at him. “You’re so selfish! You could be dead, but you’re alive! Stop acting like your world ended!” He batted away the Legos and stood, hooking his arm around my waist and tossing me out of his room, slamming and locking the door.

His parents rushed up the stairs as Tillie came out from her room.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Carmen asked.

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