Michael Ford - Suicide Notes

I laughed inside. I knew she said that to be a smart-ass. She can be worse than I am when she tries. But she was totally giving everyone this serious face, so they didn’t know whether to believe her or not.

“Do you have anything you’d like to ask Jeff?” Cat Poop asked her, trying again. Since he’s dealt with me for so long now, he probably knows Amanda operates the same way I do. I waited for him to start doing the staring thing with her.

But Amanda didn’t look at him; she looked at me. I could tell she was trying not to laugh, so I did my best to look really serious, too. She waited a minute, just kind of biting her lip, like she was thinking about something deep. Then she said, “If you do it again, can I have your room?”

“Amanda!” my mother said, shocked. My father stopped twirling his thumbs and looked like he wanted to die. Cat Poop got his pencil ready.

“What?” Amanda said, acting all innocent.

“I don’t think Jeff appreciated that,” said my father.

But I did. See, this was kind of an in-joke with us. When we first moved into our house, Amanda and I both wanted the bigger bedroom. She said she should have it because she’s a girl and it has its own bathroom. I said I should have it because I’m older. I ended up locking myself in the room, and stayed there practically a whole day until my parents said I could have it. I was all ready to rub it in, but then I found out that Amanda had set me up. She knew I would fight her for the room, and she only pretended to be upset about not getting it because what she really wanted was a new bike and horseback riding lessons, both of which my parents gave her when she boo-hooed about her whole life being totally unfair. She’s good.

I played along. “It’s okay,” I said in this calm voice. They all looked at me. I think they expected me to give some big speech about how I have no intention of ever trying it again. Instead I said, like it was really hard for me to get the words out, “You can totally have my room if I ever kill myself again.”

“Jeff!” my mother and father said at the same time. Then my mother looked at Cat Poop. “You see what we live with?” she said. “The two of them…”

“I think Amanda and Jeff understand each other quite well,” said the doc before she could finish. When I looked at him, he pushed his glasses up. I thought he might be smiling a little, but he wiped his mouth with his hand, and when he brought it away, he looked like his old shrinky self.

“Well, I wish we understood them,” my mother said.

Amanda looked at me again, and that’s when I realized that what she thought of me was more important than what anybody else thought. Isn’t that weird? And I can’t tell you why it is. Maybe because I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I think I could handle it if the kids at school were afraid of me. Even my parents. But Amanda’s different. I want her to know she can trust me. One day she might really need me for something, and I don’t want her to be afraid to ask.

The rest of the session was boring. Cat Poop talked a lot about “transitioning from the therapeutic environment to the home environment” and crap like that. Mostly I made faces at Amanda when no one was looking and tried to get her to crack up. She did, once, but then she started coughing to cover it up.

When it was all over, there was more hugging. When it came time for me and Amanda to hug, I held her really tight and whispered in her ear, “Next time I’m going to do it on your carpet.”

She had to pretend to cough again so my parents wouldn’t hear us laughing. But I think she knew I was really telling her that she didn’t have to worry. As they all left, I heard my mother say to her, “I think we should take you to Dr. Leach tomorrow. It sounds like you’re coming down with something.” Amanda turned and glared at me, and I just waved at her.

“Would you mind staying a little longer today?” Cat Poop asked as I was getting ready to go back to my room. “I thought we might talk some more.”

I knew that he knew that there was more to my story than what I’d already told him. And suddenly I was really, really tired. Not of talking to him, but of not talking to him. I was tired of all the games I’d been playing, and of holding back. Maybe realizing how much I wanted Amanda to believe that I was okay is what did it. Maybe it was Sadie being dead, or Rankin being gone. I don’t really know. But I knew I was ready to talk.

I sat down. “Okay,” I said. “Where should I start?”

“Where every good story starts,” said Cat Poop. “At the beginning.”

No one ever tells you that when your heart breaks, you can feel it. But you can. It feels like something has crumbled inside you and the pieces are falling into your stomach. It hurts more than any punch ever could. You stop breathing, and for a while you can’t remember how. When you finally do, it feels like your throat has closed up, like you’re trying to suck air through a straw.

I tried to kill myself because of what happened with Burke. Not Allie and Burke. Me and Burke. During Christmas break.

It really started a couple of months before that. I guess you could say I had a crush on Burke. Actually, it’s not even a guess—I did have a crush on Burke. Big-time.

When Burke first asked Allie out, I was happy for her. I knew she liked him, and she was so excited when he finally talked to her. Besides, it was just a movie. She even asked me to go along. She said it was so she wouldn’t be tempted to do too much with Burke. She’d read in some magazine that guys will be more interested if you play it cool, and that the best way to do that is to go on group dates where you can’t exactly climb all over each other without someone giving you a hard time about it. I was her group.

The funny thing is, Burke didn’t mind. The three of us went to a movie. I don’t even remember what it was. Burke sat in the middle. There I was, right next to him, with Allie on his other side. He even shared his popcorn with me. It was like the three of us were on a date, although I didn’t think about that then. I just thought it was cool of him.

I remember reaching into the popcorn about halfway through the movie. Burke reached in at the same time, and for a few seconds our fingers touched. I don’t remember who pulled away first, but I remember feeling this strange sensation. I don’t even know what to call it. A tickle maybe, in my stomach. I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked the fake butter off, like I was trying to find out what Burke tasted like. I didn’t touch that popcorn for the rest of the movie.

After that, Allie started spending more time with Burke. At first they almost always asked me along. Then one night Allie went out alone with him. She didn’t even tell me she was going, but she called me when she got home. “He kissed me,” she said. She sounded all excited, like she’d just won a million dollars.

“He did?” I asked her. “Why?”

“What do you mean why ?” said Allie. She laughed, like it was the dumbest question anyone could ask. “Because he wanted to.”

She told me all about it. They went for a walk. Burke bought them ice cream cones. He joked around, getting ice cream on her nose. Then he licked it off. And then he kissed her. I remember exactly what she said. “His lips were soft, like a kitten.” I thought that was a really weird way to describe someone’s lips. At the same time, I knew exactly what she meant.

I tried to be excited for her. But the whole time I was telling her how happy I was for her, I was really thinking that I wanted it to be my nose Burke was licking ice cream off and me kissing his kitten lips. And the more I thought about that, the more scared I got. I think that was the first time I realized that I didn’t just like Burke, I had a thing for him.