Are You Still There by Sarah Lynn Scheerger

Author:Sarah Lynn Scheerger
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781504016681
Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company

22

Every time I see Eric, he pretends the night at the party never happened.

At first I think he doesn’t remember. That the whole thing was one big, drunken blur.

That he doesn’t know how his nose got bloodied and his face bruised.

But he doesn’t ask me to study anymore.

He doesn’t stand next to my desk and offer me tips.

And he doesn’t look me in the eye.

Ever.

“Helpline, this is Torrie.” I’m experimenting with new aliases. I glance at Miguel to see what he thinks, but he keeps reading his magazine. After a total of 233 I’m sorry texts, he stopped trying. Suddenly there’s this coolness about him, like there’s some kind of on-off button to his heart, and all he had to do was flip the switch to disengage from me forever. Now I am rethinking my decision not to respond to any of his texts.

My thoughts are flying so it takes me a while to realize no one is talking. I say again, “Helpline, this is …” I forget my pseudonym. Janae leaps over to the pad of paper and writes Torrie with an exclamation point. I’ve got to start writing my name down when I say it. “This is Torrie.”

Silence on the other end.

I have less patience than I used to. In my six weeks on the Line, I’ve had my share of crank callers. “Hello? Anyone there?” I am just about to hang up, when I hear something that stops me. Sounds like sniffling.

“Sorry. I’m here.” The voice is soft.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“What does it matter?” I recognize her voice. I probably have a class with her. I hope she doesn’t recognize mine.

“It matters,” I insist, even though I know how hokey that sounds.

“That’s a load of crap. Nothing matters, but some people matter even less than others. I am one of those special someones who doesn’t matter to anyone.” There’s sarcasm there in an ugly kind of way.

“I bet there’s a friend out there who really cares about you.”

Janae waves her hands in front of my face, almost panic-like. She draws a big stop sign on my paper. You are not a shrink. Stick with what we practiced. I stick out my tongue at her. She returns the favor.

The voice laughs, all brittle and angry. “There are no such things as friends. There are people who pretend to be your friend so that they don’t have to sit alone at lunch. But no one really cares. If you think they do, then you’re as suckered as the rest of them.”

“It sounds like you’re feeling really discouraged,” I say, following Janae’s advice.

“No shit.”

And then I feel mad. Because here I am, talking to this girl on the phone, trying to be supportive, and she gets sarcastic with me? “What are you hoping to get from calling tonight?”

“What?”

I reword and try not to sound as irritated as I feel. “How can I help you?”

“You can’t help me. No one can help me.”

“How can you help yourself?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be calling you.

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