My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,21

a hollow shell of a body and a brain that wouldn’t work.

So I walked.

There’s something about New York City that gives you permission to just be. There’s no need for pretense, no need for masks. You can be real, without risk. The buildings are your protectors, the streets are your tethers. The people…you will never see them again. Even when they’re right in front of you, you don’t see them. Not really. Just as they don’t really see you. New York is beautifully anonymous.

As one wave of New Yorkers disappeared underground, another emerged. I took my time, watching them. Each one of them on their way somewhere, each with a purpose.

Except me. I was still empty.

The sun was low in the sky when my bag started vibrating. I ignored it.

I passed a homeless man. He was reading a thick book, and a dog was curled up on a blanket beside him. I gave him all my money. Fifty-six dollars and ninety-three cents.

“God bless you,” he said.

It’s a little late for that, the voice in my head responded.

Somehow, I made it back to the parking garage. Somehow, I got in my car and made it go. And somehow, I ended up back at home.

12

On My Own

“You’re home early,” Dad said cheerfully.

I was? It felt like years since I’d been home.

“Did rehearsal let out early today?”

Oh yeah. Rehearsal. That’s where I should be right now if the world made sense.

He looked at me curiously. “Are you feeling okay?” He placed a hand on my forehead.

No. I’m not, Dad, I wanted to say.

“Answer me, Lucy. Are you sick?”

Ha. Am I sick? That’s funny.

It took a while to for me to realize that I was actually laughing. Out loud. Hysterically. Manically.

Dad got on the phone. “Seth, are you on your way home yet? Something’s wrong with Lucy…No, I don’t know…She came home early and she’s acting strangely and she’s really pale…I don’t know…Okay…Okay, bye.”

Dad placed a glass of water in front of me. “Drink,” he ordered.

I was still laughing. I didn’t want to be. But I couldn’t stop. I felt possessed. Dad physically put the glass in my hand and guided it to my mouth. “Drink,” he said again.

I managed to gulp down a mouthful of the water. It was cold and I felt it travel down down down through my body.

My body. My poisoned, tainted body.

The lingering giggles transformed into huge, heaving sobs.

“Lucy, please talk to me. What’s going on?” Dad pleaded.

I swallowed and, through chattering teeth, attempted speech. “I…I’m…” I began. But what was I going to say?

Positive. I couldn’t say the word out loud.

“I…think I have the flu,” I managed. “I need to go to bed.”

“You must have a fever—you’re delirious,” Dad said. “I’m going to call the doctor, see if she can see you tonight.”

I shook my head fiercely. “No, no doctor! I’ll be fine.” I booked it upstairs to my room before he could argue.

You are nothing but a stupid, spoiled child, I told myself over and over again.

I knew now that there was no one to blame but me. I’d made excuses for running off with Lee, blaming Lisa and Ty and Elyse for messing with my head, and messing with my life. But no one had forced me into his bed that night. This was my fault.

I’d had everything. And then a few things didn’t go my way and I ran away and threw a tantrum like a two-year-old. Of course I was being punished. That’s what happens to kids who act out.

• • •

I shut myself off from the world. Tuesday and Wednesday came and went without me ever seeing the sun. I didn’t go to school; I didn’t go to rehearsal; I didn’t return Evan or Andre or Max or Courtney’s barrage of calls. I didn’t listen to music; I didn’t put on the TV; I didn’t do any schoolwork. I didn’t shower. I barely ate.

I didn’t sleep much, either; my head was teeming with answerless questions:

Will I get AIDS?

Will I die?

Will my dads hate me?

Will my friends abandon me?

Will I ever be able to have sex again?

Will I ever be able to have a baby?

Will I ever be able to be on Broadway?

Will I have to go on medication?

Will anyone ever love me?

• • •

I don’t know what day it was, maybe late Tuesday. But it was definitely the middle of the night. The house was quiet and dark.

I got out of bed and flipped on every light in my room. Then I stripped