June

"O my god, June! What happened?"

Hayley was staring at my legs with widened eyes, hands covering her mouth. I looked at hers, under her shorts, still a little tan from the summer, smooth and hairless. Mine probably made it seem like someone had wanted to butcher me. No, it wasn't that bad — only three big gashes, one that wouldn't clot, and a dozen or so tiny cuts you only saw if you were concentrating.

"I shaved."

Hayley blinked. She wanted to say something; she'd already opened her mouth but decided against it. Instead, she tilted her head, inspecting all of the self-inflicted wounds I hadn't meant to make. "They're gonna think you're a cutter," she said. "Look at that. Please, sweetie, let me do it for you the next time. That must hurt like hell."

"It doesn't." It sounded a lot snappier than I'd meant it to be, so I mustered up a smile and lifted my arm. "I didn't do my armpits. Knew I'd probably end up cutting off a limb." She grimaced, apparently at a loss for words. I didn't like it. She was overreacting; it wasn't as if I'd done this to myself on purpose. "It's fine, Hayley. It'll heal soon enough. Come on, let's get to class."

She didn't respond, although I noticed her stealing glances at my legs every so often. They were itchy; I had to keep myself from scratching them, because when I did, I only caused more marks to appear. Skin was incredibly sensitive. Valentina had never told me that, but now I understood why she smeared those creams all over her body after a shaving session. I should've done the same.

Hayley was exceptionally quiet during AP Spanish. It annoyed me; this was my choice, my self-picked fate, unlike dad who'd suffered from a heart attack and was forced to leave his well-paid job — my choice, and she had no right to act like it was an insensible one. I wasn't like her. I didn't stop myself from doing things just because they were a little difficult. If I did, I might as well quit living altogether.

When the bell rang, making me jump and crash my knee into my desk —yes, ouch— I wondered if I could ditch her and work on some of my coding in the library, when she already said: "What about we sit with Sam in the cafeteria today?"

Fine. We rarely did — Lena's mural was still our go-to spot. For once, however, I could do with some distractions around us. Plus, a table would hide my injuries. She wouldn't be able to throw them any more glances.

Sam was in the company of a few other guys from our year; loud, annoying as hell teenage boys, either wearing too much deodorant or too little, some of them growing out something they in all seriousness called a beard. Yeah, right...

I stuffed myself with my self-prepared salad, so I wouldn't have to talk to anyone. I was a little too enthusiastic, almost choking on the stem of a lettuce leaf. Luckily, no one noticed — although I did hope someone would have if I'd actually been dying. Hayley was shaking her head at Sam, who was trying to show off by making all his friends laugh about crappy jokes, probably to impress her. It wasn't working, thank god.

"Hey, June. Looking good today."

I was absolutely not paying attention to my surroundings; Malik's voice took me by surprise, causing my arm to fling itself forward. The cherry tomato on my fork soared through the air, splashing against Sam's chest. "Ah, June, gross!" The others, including Hayley, roared with laughter, while I grew increasingly red, the color of the splatters on Sam's unfortunate T-shirt.

Malik grinned down at me, his backpack casually hanging from his shoulder. He was one of those guys that seemed too perfect to be true, which probably meant he was. Flawless dark skin, a big innocent smile, old-style manners, amazing fashion sense, member of the football team, and, surprisingly, full of brains. Well-trained brains. I knew I shouldn't be annoyed about a senior being smarter than me, but I was. All the time. Especially when he fixed my code for me. I never had to help him. "Sorry, girl," he said. "Guilty conscience, heh? What you been up to?"

No, I didn't have a guilty conscience. Why did people always ask that, with a suggestive smirk like that? What did they think? That I regularly murdered people? That I was having affairs with teachers? That I starred in porn movies? Surely, there was no secret scandalous enough to make me startle this often?

Even though the question irritated me, I managed to hold in my string of swear words. "Oh, you know, the usual... Catapulting my food at people and stuff..."

Malik laughed, shaking his head like I'd made the most inappropriate joke ever. A few girls behind him giggled, gaping at him like a couple of stalkers — hadn't he noticed them, or had he become used to being followed around? "This girl..." he said, looking at Hayley like I was some funny performance they'd both been watching. "Well, I sure hope I'm in the safe zone."

"Don't worry," I said, suddenly more embarrassed than I'd been before. No way I was going to eat the rest of my salad. "I seem to be out of tomatoes for now."

"That may be the best for the rest of us," he said, still with that infuriatingly cute smile. It wasn't that funny. If he just hadn't felt the need to creep up on me, this wouldn't have happened. "We should ban you from ever having tomatoes again. That's a waste of food and cool shirts." He plucked at his own shirt; it rode up for a second, giving us a glimpse of his athletic stomach — damn. I mean, it wasn't like Nathan was chubby, but he was certainly not as well-built as this guy.

Hayley giggled nervously. Honestly, I didn't understand that girl — the idea of sex kept on petrifying her, and yet, she spent half her time on Instagram ogling bare-chested models. She did the same with female models, if only less conspicuously, and for a while, I'd wondered if she was gay, but then Malik came into our lives. He flashed her a smile, and I saw Sam going quiet, aggressively picking at the tab of his soda can. Seriously, could he be any more obvious? I wanted to sigh, until I realized Hayley was being just as obvious, only about someone else. How did I get into this situation again?

"What did you come to see me for?" I asked. I was so done with all of these people craving for each other all of a sudden. Just leave me and my salad and my legs alone, please.

Another one of those incredulous laughs. "You do like to get to the point, do you?" He nodded at Hayley, no doubt enjoying the effect he had on her. "She always like that?"

"Yeah..." Hayley said.

What? Oh, for god's sake! He wasn't that great. "I'm not. I just don't wanna waste my precious lunchtime."

"I see, I see, you got your priorities straight," he said. "So yeah... I'm having a party at my place this Friday. Wondering if you wanted to come. It's low-key, just some cool people, maybe something to drink... And you can bring your cute friend, of course."

Ugh. I wished he hadn't said that. Hayley wouldn't be able to behave normally after this for at least a week. "I'm not sure," I started to say, then saw her face fall. For a second, I wanted to say 'no', as a punishment for her bitching about my legs. She didn't deserve that, though, and neither did Malik. "Yeah, okay, we'll come." The words were out before I could comprehend their meaning: a party, with people I didn't know, and that while I'd been planning to finish reading Gone with the Wind. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it could distract me from what my mother had told me. Distract me from the image of dad in a parking lot, shuffling from car to car.

"Hey, what about me?" Sam had gotten up from his chair, planting his hands on the table. He was rewarded with an eye roll from Hayley, the sort she reserved especially for him.

Malik chuckled. "Yeah, sure. The girls need someone to drive them, after all." He winked at us, and Hayley made a weird noise, something between "good", a moan, and a giggle. "I'll text you the details, June. See you later." And with that, he walked away, all three of us watching him go with very different emotions running through our heads.

"You have his number?!" Hayley attacked me, the minute he was out of sight.

"Yeah, of course. We need to be able to communicate about the meetings."

Her mouth fell open. "I can't believe you didn't tell me! Oh, I wish I'd taken Computer Science too..." The longing look on her face was so painful I wanted nothing more than get rid of her.

But I couldn't find the energy to come up with a lie, not even when the bell rang and we left for the library once the hallways had cleared. We had a free period together, which we tended to fill up with studying. She wasn't preoccupied with my legs anymore, so I figured maybe her company wouldn't be that bad now after all.

Wrong.

Halfway down one of the courtyards, she abruptly pushed me aside, staring up at me with a scary glint in her eyes.

"Hayley, what the...?"

A grin spread on her face. "Malik invited you to a party. He came to you to invite you to a party. With cool people."

"Yes, I know. I was there."

She grabbed me by my arms, shaking me like a cocktail — I almost fell over. "Oops, sorry... But June, even you can't be that blind! Come on... Don't tell me you haven't connected the dots?"

"What dots?"

A quick shake of her head, mouth wide open. "He likes you!"

What? I stared at her, wondering how on earth she'd made that conclusion. He was just a nice person. Malik didn't date girls like me. I didn't even know if he dated at all. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"

"Yes! He comes to talk to you literally whenever we see him, and he invited you to a party. He likes you, okay."

She was actually serious. Seemed like she hadn't gotten my mother's memo. People like him, they see people like you as a nice little project to make them feel better about themselves. Or would my mother say that didn't count in this case, because the boy in question was black? Would she say he was disadvantaged enough for him to sincerely like me?

"June. He. Likes. You." Hayley was practically bouncing up and down, her blonde hair flying everywhere and her headband sagging in front of her eyes.

She had the tendency to tell me what I wanted to hear, though. Did she think I wanted Malik to like me? Had she forgotten about Nathan? "Sure, he does. As a friend."

"He told you you look good."

"That's just what he always does."

"That's my point."

"Hayley...—"

"Why are you so intent on convincing me I'm wrong? What would be so bad about him liking you?"

Good question. What would be bad about it? He was handsome and smart — it'd be a compliment, right? Something nervous swam around my stomach. What if she was right? I mean, it wasn't like I would do anything with it, but the idea that there was someone nice who had looked past my disability, like Nathan had promised... That wasn't the worst thing. At all.

Suddenly, she frowned, glancing at my legs again. I could see there was something she wanted to say, and when her eyes traveled to my ring, I could guess what it was about approximately. I just didn't want to hear it.

"Fine, he likes me. Are you happy now?"

"No," she said, her voice unsteady. She scratched her neck, avoiding my gaze. "Sweetie, don't you... don't you think it's time you moved on?"

I took it back. That was absolutely not what I wanted to hear. I tensed, my left hand curling into a fist. We had never earnestly discussed me being in love with Nathan — it'd always been sort of a joke, devising plans to seduce him and all. I'd had the fantasy that when we finally did talk about it truthfully, it'd be because I came to tell her he'd kissed me or asked me to marry him, or something foolish like that. "Why would I move on? It's not like I'm hurting anybody."

A flicker to my legs again. "But you are hurting someone. Yourself." She sighed, then reached for my hand, the one without the ring. "June, he's on the other side of the ocean. With a girl that's not you. That ship has sailed, and it's never been docked in your harbor anyway."

No. No, please, Hayley, not you as well... My mother's words emerged again, louder than when she'd spoken them to me, curling around my heart like barbed wire. Why was Hayley copying her? Since when did people feel the need to present me with this harsh truth? Couldn't we keep on living in my make-believe world for a little longer? I wasn't hurting myself. My life was fine this way.

"That might've been the worst metaphor I've ever heard." It was the only thing I could get out without fearing I'd break out into tears. She didn't know about my mother. About what was said. About all the Guevara-truths smacked into my face. Nobody knew. Who would I tell? Who would understand? I couldn't confide in Nathan; it'd mean confessing my feelings and having my heart broken once again, for real this time.

It seemed like lies were all around me these days. All the managers claiming they didn't need an extra employee, while the fact they hired Hayley and still had their "help wanted" adverts in the windows proved the opposite. Sam stressing that he hated Hayley, while in reality, he was head over heels for her. Dad assuring me everything was fine, that he'd quit smoking soon, and that my mother just needed some rest. Me keeping secrets from Nathan — and he undoubtedly keeping secrets from me.

Hayley giggled. "Whatever." Another deep sigh, and she backed away, leaning against the wall. "I just want you to have fun. I love you for taking things so seriously, our futures and college and stuff... But sweetie, we're only sixteen. It's not like we should be looking for the perfect husband to marry." I tried to stop myself from touching the green stone — and failed miserably. She noticed. "And that's not an engagement ring."

And her saying that wasn't supposed to feel like a punch to the gut. "Well, what do you want me to do? Forget about Nathan?" Because that was impossible.

Her eyes grew wide. "I never said that! I just meant, you can have a little fun in between. With Malik, for instance. Like... like practice! Yes!" She smiled tentatively. "You do want to practice making out, right? I mean, Nathan is an older guy. He's got plenty of experience."

I was pretty sure that hadn't been what she meant. "So, you want me to sleep with Malik to prepare myself for Nathan?"

"Ew, gross!"

"Exactly."

I figured that was the end of the conversation; I wanted to walk on, be left alone with my thoughts. But no — she stopped me, jumping in front of me.

"Please, June. Give Malik a chance. It'll be good for you."

There was only one smile in this world I couldn't resist, and it wasn't hers. "Why? What's so great about him, apart from the fact that he's hot?"

Her mouth fell agape, on purpose this time, and she shook her head. "O my god!" she said. "You think you're too good for him!"

I didn't think that! I mean, maybe a little. He was on the football team, for god's sake! And he seemed to pick his clothes from the cover of a magazine. He was just... trying too hard. "He always helps me with everything. It's annoying!"

She snickered, pushing her hands over her face to prevent herself from laughing. "I'm sorry, but... that's like, literally the weirdest argument ever."

Ugh. Why was I even still talking to her about this? Just leave me alone already! Annoyance was starting to bubble under my skin, and there was nothing I'd like to do more at that moment than wipe the grin off her sweet face. "I'm sorry, but... that's like, literally the densest thing you've ever said. And that's saying something, considering you've been friends with Jennifer."

Immediately, she stopped moving, her lips curling downwards. She swallowed, didn't look at me. "That's not fair. How long are you going to hold that against me?"

"As long as you're going to keep saying shit like that."

The minute the words were out, I wished I could take them back. Too late, June. Damage done. This was me in a bad mood — I knew I was better off staying away from other people if I was like this. I always ended up doing stuff I'd regret later. God, why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut? Some things are better left unsaid. I'd learned that by now, hadn't I? Clearly, I needed a refresher course.

Hayley fell silent, wrapping her arms around herself. My eyes traveled to her bracelet, the one I'd bought her for her sixteenth birthday; it was a simple one, made out of brightly colored tied strings, but I'd known she'd love it because the proceeds went to an environmental organization. "You can be a real bitch, you know?" she said, her voice sharp. "What am I, your friend or an entertaining fixer-upper you can work on when you're bored?" She stared at me, blue eyes teary all of a sudden. "Always with the correcting... And whenever Nathan calls, you just ditch me. And you never tell me about what you actually do with him, acting like I wouldn't understand or something. And now this. I wasn't trying to be mean, June. I was trying to be a good friend." She sniffed. "I thought you were great, and you deserve an amazing guy like Malik, but you know... maybe you don't..."

I couldn't say anything, a large lump stuck in my throat. I was sorry. That was totally uncalled for, and she hadn't deserved it at all. She was just the victim of me feeling like shit. Somehow, I couldn't get the apology out.

She straightened up, chin in the air, fighting to keep it together. "And you know what, some people would call it nasty to go after someone who's been in a relationship for a good long year."

"Hayley—"

She was already leaving, quick steps, almost running, and I would never be able to catch up with her. Fuck. I didn't want this — I didn't want any of this. She was my friend, and I loved her for her, I did. Was I really a bitch? I didn't mean to be; it was just that the "literally's" and "likes" were so annoying, and I knew it'd benefit her if she quit saying it. And yeah, if Nathan called, all of my attention went to him — because I already saw her the rest of the day. And she wouldn't understand — how could I explain what it was like to make him laugh if she saw him as this intimidating lawyer-guy? Besides, a lot of stuff we told each other was between us. It wasn't any of her business.

Not that I'd been telling him much of the truth, lately.

With something churning in my stomach and bitter tears pricking behind my eyes, I went to go see the eagles. Maybe they'd be able to make me feel a little better.

They didn't.

Thirty minutes later, my phone vibrated, making me startle. Hoping it was Hayley who'd answered my desperate apologies, I took out my phone.

Sam: Did you make Hayley cry? Nice one, June.

June: Oh just marry her already.

No. No point in making it worse. I breathed in deeply, deleting the words before sending him something else.

June: Please tell her I'm sorry and that I'm a bitch and that she's right.

Sam: She says she already knows that.

Yeah. I figured.

June: Tell her she's right and that we're sixteen and that she and Malik are good enough.

June: Tell her I'm going to try if she thinks that's best.

Sam: Yeah, that's too many things to remember, just text her yourself. She's got a phone, you know.

I rested my head against the wall, against the two eagles behind me. Thank god my mother wasn't here to see me like this.

Weak.

Maybe she had a point.

Maybe it was time to rely a little less on the ring on my finger, and a little more on the person who'd never walk away from me.

Myself.