"Why'd you do it?"
"I dunno. Cry for help I guess." She looked at him out of the sides of her eyes. A smile played on her lips. She had practiced that answer, he thought.
"Well did you get any help?"
The smile dropped off her face.
She slowly took in a deep breath. "No…..she let it out. No I didn't."
"No? What about your parents?"
She looked up at him as she replied "Nothing."
He could not meet her gaze.
"They want to get me a therapist. I'm not sure they can afford it though."
They had to care that had been the rule, they hadn't been much but they had to care. They had shared each other's loneliness. Why'd she have to go and ruin it?
She leaned forward and touched his arm. Her fingers felt cold.
"You could experiment with some pills off the therapist; tell him you've got issues or depression or something."
She pulled her hand back.
"I…..should I guess."
"Yeah…." he said "…right."
She shook her hair, that the wind blew in her face and stared at him defiantly "I never took enough, all right. I never meant to. I just wanted to take enough to go unconscious and then they'd find the note."
"What was in the note?"
She waved her hand dismissively, "Oh just some rubbish I wrote about how sorry I was ma and stuff like that."
She smiled slightly, "but you know I was so silly. I thought that I would just go unconscious, just go to sleep all peaceful like. Instead I started - I started puking my guts out. I could see the blood on my hands and on the floor. I thought I was gonna die…."
She laughed and then shivered "Sssss….it's so cold out here. She hugged herself.
Then she looked at him and said. "You know right then I wished I had written a proper note to you? I wanted to have explained?
She clutched his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't. I really am. Please don't be like this, please don't.
He didn't have what it took to break up with her right then.
He held her to him and she nestled her head against him. Her tears were hot blotches on his shirt. But it was winter right then so it didn't feel bad.
There were not many people in the park. He realized how they must seem to any passersby; a teenage girl crying on a guy's shoulder. He wondered if people thought he'd got her pregnant.
"How did it feel when you heard about it?"
I felt……pretty bad. I felt depressed. I felt sick when I heard how they found you. And then I felt guilty.
It's not your fault. She chanted it against his chest. It's not your fault, It's not your fault…..
He had been in class at the institute when the news had been going around among the students. He had felt surprised, unpleasantly so. And then he had got back to reading his notes. He had not known what he should have done. He still didn't.