Katie.

oOo

Summer was one of my best friends. We used to be inseparable in elementary, Katie and Summer; you'd never see one without the other far behind. We spent vacations together, just hanging out and being. I remember the movie marathons, the ice cream breaks, the cooking adventures in my kitchen... I remember growing up with her.

I could always count on her for homework help, and she gave the best advice. We used to joke that she would be a perfect therapist or psychiatrist. She thought it was funny that the doctors were the crazy ones, giving advice to perfectly sane people.

I wonder what'll be like when she comes back. God, it sounds like she's been locked up or something. What am I supposed to say to her when I see her?

I want to say sorry, I want to say that maybe I should've been there, and it wouldn't have happened. I want to cry, and hug her, and get her to cry too. Summer looked so dead yesterday. There were big, dark shadows around her eyes, and she was so pale, and so quiet. It was like someone had put a giant upside-down glass jar on top of her, sealing her off from the rest of us. And it killed her. It turned Summer into Winter. Winter has always been my least favorite time of year. If it wasn't for Christmas, I'd boycott winter and hitchhike to Miami.

I asked her why she was so tired, and she shrugged. I wanted her to tell me that she had stayed up studying for a test. I wanted to joke that beauty sleep was more important than grades. I wanted her to laugh, and smile. All she said was that she was fine. I knew she was lying, but I didn't call her on it. I saw through her bluff, but I've never been that good of a card player anyway.

But, she wasn't fine, because of what happened.

Summer couldn't go to sleep, because she was raped. Things like this don't happen to girls like Summer. They happen to girls who are into drugs, and walk the streets, and come from abusive families. Summer was always careful: she never did anything wrong; she always turned work in on time; she was never late for dinner without calling...

What do you say to your friend when they've been hurt like that? What do you say to anyone who was hurt like that?

What do you say to your best friend in the whole, wide world, when they can't stop crying?

I don't think there's anything to say, really. Mr. Dewey said that rape affects people in different ways, and he said we need to give her time. I think he's just as lost as we are. He only just found out yesterday.

I don't want to give Summer time. I want her to be back to normal. I want her to tell us to stop goofing around and get to work. I want her to yell at us to snap out of it.

I remember how yesterday she bolted out of the room. The teacher didn't notice, she doesn't notice anything nowadays. Zack had looked kinda startled when she slammed the class room door, and Freddy missed a beat in his drumming. That hasn't happened in a long time, the missing a beat I mean. Zack is frighteningly easy to startle.

I remember how I was impatient, and mad at her for holding us up in practicing. God, I feel like such a bitch. I was so selfish! I was worried about getting home in time to watch something on T.V... I was worried about what some guy thought of me... I wasn't worried about my best friend who was having an emotional break down because some pervert forced her to have sex.

I feel so helpless! I feel like it was my fault. I feel like I should've been there. I feel like I should do something to help her. I want to do something. I want someone to be hurt, someone besides Summer. I want the world to stop spinning, and the sun to stop shining. It's too normal.

Things should be different. People should be acting different. How dare those little kids laugh? How dare those couples hug? How dare they be happy, when my best friend isn't? How dare someone rape a girl, barely a young woman, and get away with it?

Summer Hathaway loved getting praised for good work. She loved getting gold stars and having other people admire her. She was never cocky though. That was the great thing about her. She could help with both long division and geometric proofs, and she had no problem doing such. She loved learning, and getting smarter, and doing well in school. I don't think she cares anymore. That much was obvious when she skipped last period yesterday.

I want to give her all those gold stars back, and I want to see her sit straight up in her desk with a knowing smile on her face. I want the old Summer back. But, I don't think gold stars will help us any. Stars are, after all, only good for wishing on. And I gave up on wishing along time ago.