A few days after our sleepover, I get a text from Bella as I'm eating lunch.

Bella: Can I come over this arvo?

Edward: For sure. I knock off around 4.

Bella: Ok. Thanks.

Edward: everything ok?

Bella: Yes and no. Explain later.

Even though I take off early, Bella's waiting on my doorstep when I get home. She's got her arms wrapped around her legs and her cheek resting on her knee.

'Hey,' I say, sitting down beside her. 'What's going on?'

'Just a shit day.' I wrap an arm across her shoulders and she leans into me.

'You wanna tell me about it?'

Bella sighs and nods against my shoulder. 'It's not like… nothing specific happened. There's not an obvious incident I can tell you about and be like, that's why I'm feeling like crap.'

I kiss her hair. 'Okay. I get that.'

Bella pulls back a little and studies my face. She picks my hand up off her shoulder and ducks under my arm. She brings my hand to her lap, laces our fingers together. 'So, um, about half the people who have a traumatic brain injury experience depression in the year following the injury, right?'

'Okay.'

'But antidepressants are also a pretty common treatment for TBI's. Not just because they help with the emotional fallout of your brain being kinda fucked over, but because there's some research that shows they might actually help brain cells to grow and survive after trauma. So, I was on antidepressant meds for like a year after the accident.'

I squeeze her hand and wait for her to continue.

'Because of that, it's hard to say if I was depressed. I don't know. I had a lot of really bad days, but the medication may have meant I avoided the worst of it, on an emotional level.'

She falls silent for a while, but I don't say anything because I can tell she's not finished yet.

'Within seven years of a TBI, that statistic goes up from half to two-thirds of people. And it looks like I'm one of them.' She sighs and closes her eyes.

'I was doing really well for ages, but the last year or so, there have been a few really difficult periods. And it sometimes feels like… like they tend to come on after things have been really great. Like a really bad come down or something.'

If I were someone else, this new insight into Bella might have been a shock. Without my own experience, it might've been difficult to reconcile her resilience, her relentless positivity, with someone who struggles with their mental health. But really, it makes sense. It takes a fuckload of mental and emotional resources to be as strong as Bella has been—and is. It's understandable, then, that there will be times she can't sustain that strength, that she'll falter and struggle and need to let herself admit that she needs help.

I rub my chest and blow out a breath. I fucking hate talking about this, but I want to be honest with her. She's always been so open about her weaknesses, and I want to let myself be vulnerable with her, too.

'I spent a couple of years on antidepressants.'

Bella's hand tightens around mine.

'While Katie was sick, mostly. And for a bit afterwards.' I push the hand not wrapped in Bella's through my hair and close my eyes. 'I felt like shit, having to take them. In hindsight, I get that your sister having cancer is way too much for a teenager to deal with without some kind of help. Whether meds or counselling or something. But at the time I felt… just… absolutely pathetic. I was so fucking angry. At the universe or God or whatever for making Katie sick. And at myself. For not being able to cope the way I thought I should.'

'I'm so sorry.' Bella lifts her head and kisses my chin. 'That's such a huge burden for you to have had to carry so young.'

'It was hard,' I say. 'But it means… I told you because I want you to know that I get it. It's not the same situation or anything. But I understand the way life can throw so much shit at you, and sometimes you just handle it, and sometimes you don't and you fall apart. And sometimes you need some help to put yourself back together.'

'Thanks for telling me,' she says softly. 'I know it's not easy to show people your scars.'

My arse is going numb, sitting on the stoop. I get to my feet and offer Bella my hand. 'My butt is going numb. Come inside?'

Bella wraps her arms around my waist while I unlock the front door, and doesn't let go as I lead her into the kitchen. I fill up the kettle and while we wait for it to boil, pull her around so we're face to face. Bella immediately melts into me, tucks her head under my chin.

'So, a bad come down?'

She nods against my chest. 'Yeah. I hate it, because it's like… everything is so bloody good at the moment. I'm happy. Really, really happy. But it's like my brain can't handle that much happy and has to bring me crashing back down.'

'I'm sorry.' I kiss her forehead. There isn't anything I can say that will 'fix' her—because she doesn't need to be fixed. She just needs me to know what she's going through, and to stick with her while she fights her way through it.

'Don't be,' Bella says quietly. 'You're a huge part of the reason I'm so fucking happy right now.'

They're right there, those three words. They almost feel solid, like something in my mouth I need to spit out or swallow down. They can't stay where they are. But I'm not ready, and I don't think Bella is either. So I swallow hard and the words scrape their way back down my throat.

Soon. I'll tell her soon.

Instead, I ask her what she needs. 'Ice cream and bad telly? A run on the beach? Two minute noodles and an early night?'

She manages a small smile. 'How about pizza delivery and cuddling on the couch until we fall asleep?'

I drop my hands to her hips and kiss her cheek. 'That's my specialty.'