Page 21 of Saving Barrette

If you’re lucky, yes, but it’s not a guarantee.

A cheerleader comes by. I don’t like any of the cheerleaders. Not to say they don’t have talent, but I hate the way they look at Asa. Like he shouldn’t be with the tiny depressed girl. This one, her name is Eva, her hands lingering over the chest I lay my head on and watch the night fade to morning. Her dark hair is perfect, her body toned and eyes bright. So different from me with the messy hair pulled back in a bun, baggy clothes, and tired eyes fighting an internal battle even I don’t fully understand. I feel like when I see him like this, surrounded by people and girls who pine for him that I’m in the way. An obligation he feels entitled to watch over.

Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t bother with me.

Sometimes I wonder why he does.

Sometimes… I’m thankful he does, because if I didn’t have Asa in my life, I’m not sure I could have kept going.

“Nice game, Asa.” Her pretty brown eyes flutter to mine. She knows Asa doesn’t belong to me, but she’ll never understand just how muchheandIcontrol each other.

Asa looks up at her, winks and smiles. “Thanks, Eva.”

He’s always polite. I don’t think he knows anything else.

I shift my gaze from them. I don’t want to see this. It hurts to see it firsthand, but I have no say. I’ve created this monster, fed it. My unwillingness to move on from the past keeps this monster’s viselike hands around me. The longer I watch him and the endless flow of students congratulating him and talking about the game, I see what kind of person he is.

Asa is different than most college football players. Even Waylon, and he’s definitely nothing like Roman. Nothing rattles him like it should. He’s extremely focused on the field. Off the field, he has a 4.0 and still manages to be the star quarterback. Naturally everyone looks to him wondering where the fault lies. We all have them. Some just hide it better than others.

He has one. And it’s me.

I’m the disease slowly killing him.

Eva turns away from him. “See you in class.”

Great, they have classes together. Even better.

Asa turns back to me. “Sorry about this.”

I shrug. “It’s okay. I know what it’s like going out with you.” And then I freeze at my use of “going out with you.” Our eyes meet. “I mean, being seen with you.”

“I knew what you meant,” he says, but there’s a different edge to his words. It’s almost upset. I can’t place it.

Picking at a slice of pizza, I avoid eye contact with him when I mumble, “Are you having sex with her?”

I can’t believe I just said that!It’s a bold question, I know, but I ask it anyway. Caught off guard, Asa looks down at the bill on the table and then up at me. He doesn’t say anything.

I reach inside my pocket and pull out a twenty. “You don’t have to pay for me.”

Asa doesn’t answer. He watches my reaction to his silence and slides the money back at me. “No,” he says, taking a drink of his water and then gives a nod at the door.

“No, what?”

“No, I haven’t slept with her.”

I’m relieved somewhat. What if he did? How would I feel about that? We’re not dating. I have no ties to him in that way, other than when I’m really sad, he’s there for me. He can’t go his entire life just being there for me. Surely he has needs and desires, and it doesn’t involve the girl he saved.

We’re walking back to the dorms, and I slip off the sidewalk and into the street where I lay down between the center lines.

“Do you think of dying, Asa?”

He looks back and sees I’m not behind him. “Come on, Barrette, get up.” He jogs over and reaches down, grabbing my hand. “Don’t mess around.”

I don’t move. Instead, I stay in the street, letting the rain hit my face as I look up at the sky. “Just lay here with me,” I say, looking over at him.

“No.” He turns away and walks to the sidewalk. “Get out of the street.”

Asa doesn’t like to think of that night. When I talk about dying, it reminds him of it. I can feel his body tense from where I lay on the street.

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