"Breathe. You're okay." Cam is beside her, talking her down, and looking into her blue eyes with his brown ones. She's getting worked up, remembering, and it's not doing any favors for her. The conversation she had with Zig was similar to the one she had with him when he was depressed. Right down to the 'everyone gets sad sometimes'. Except she felt numb.
"I got you, Maya, you're safe." He wouldn't let anything happen to her here. "Your mom knows you didn't mean anything you did or said, she still loves you. Katie does too." Talking about her family might help her to calm down, and he instantly begins chattering on about their date to the mall, how they'd lost her sister and went into a picture booth.
Her photos of him were hidden away now, in the bottom of her sock drawer, and she had pulled them out after the movie night with Mom and Katie. They'd watched The Wizard of Oz, her favorite movie of all-time, and had junk food in matching jammies. It was one last good memory of her for them to hold onto, and she hoped it'd be the one they kept of her, and not her dead in the school bus; where she should've died.
Sobs rock her body, and her deceased ex-boyfriend holds onto her, not shushing, just comforting. "You fixed your mom's mirror, that was very kind, something you would do." The anger from the depression had caused her to lash out this time, rather than be sad, like after he'd died.
Therapy didn't help the first time and when they suggested it, she was in denial about going through this state again. Depression was sad, anxious. It was not angry, numb.
"Your guitar ring, you've kept it this whole time, the one piece of jewelry I always felt against my fingers. Why did you give it to Grace? Why not your sister, or your mom? Zig, even?"
Her most cherished possession ( other than Hoot, but he already had him ). Talking will keep her mind set, give her something to focus on besides breathing, and instincts will take over so she can on her own automatically. "Grace is-was-my best friend, and even if she wanted me out of her life, I didn't want out of hers. It hurt so much, when she blocked me, but I just wanted her to get it. I wanted her to notice I wasn't okay, and instead, she cuts me off."
"Maya, no. She got you help, because she was worried, and wanted you to get better. She was angry that you told Mr. Simpson something that could stop the play, but her motives weren't malicious. She knows she doesn't have as long as you guys because of her disease, and seeing you posed like you were dead? It terrified her, because you're her best friend. Did you hear how she got so upset, yelled at Jonah to go get help?"
I laughed. "She's in the waiting room, saying how they should've known, with the photos and the song you posted. She has guilt, because she couldn't save you, and you of all people should know how that feels."
The sobbing stops instantly. She does know, even if it took her awhile to reach that point. "Do you hate me, for not being able to save you? I should've known, but I didn't, do you resent me for it?"
He almost laughs, but instead he shakes his head, a half smile-almost a smirk-on his face. "No, Maya, I could never hate you. It wasn't your fault, I didn't blame you, you were the best girlfriend. I know you hated me for awhile, for leaving you, not saying good-bye. I'm sorry I didn't, but I thought it'd be easier on you, I guess."
It really hadn't been. If he had said good-bye, she might've been able to stop him, and he knew that. Cam didn't want her to have guilt if she couldn't, but she had anyway. "You weren't sad this time, but angry, and everyone important knows why now. When you saw Tristan at the play, you freaked out, left. Why is that?"
In a way, he's psychoanalyzing her, but it's easier to talk to him than it is a therapist or her mom even. She shrugs, still in his arms, and her dark blue eyes wander down to her hands. "He overcame a coma after months, and I've been unable to get my head straight ever since. When the bus crashed, he was all twisted and warped, and I remember screaming. I screamed for him, for Zig, and myself."
She doesn't remember. There was one more name you called out, Maya, one you hadn't said in years. You said it, because you saw me. I was there with you, I did everything I could so you got out. You made it out alive, albeit with two broken wrists. I know you were afraid you'd never make your dream come true because of the accident, but you healed, and bounced back. Physically, at least.
Maya continues, "He was better, better than before, and I was still in the same place."
So am I.