Christy showed up at Derek’s funeral in a wheelchair. I wouldn’t have recognized her if it weren’t for Mrs. Mendez pushing her into the church. Christy’s face was swollen and bruised, and her long, black hair had been shaved back on one side to be replaced with stitches and bandages. Her broken leg lay straight out in front of her. Apparently, the doctors hadn’t wanted to release her but gave in when she insisted on attending the funeral.
The pastor talked about what a tragedy it was to lose someone so young, with so much life ahead of him. But no matter what my notecard said about sensitivity, I shed no tears for Derek. He’d been a bully in school and hazed the incoming freshmen as though it were his duty, yet his last act had been by far his worst. The only good thing I could say about him was that he’d only managed to kill himself, though one of the injured from the other car was still in critical condition.
School had been canceled for the day, yet I wouldn’t have come to the funeral if it hadn’t been for Christy. Not that I was feeling too sympathetic toward her either. She bawled her eyes out; whether it was for Derek’s loss or her own injuries, I couldn’t say.
How could she have been so stupid?
It was bad enough hanging out with a jerk like Derek to begin with, but to get into his car when he’d been drinking? After what happened to her coach?
Derek’s mother spoke about what a kindhearted and enthusiastic boy he’d been. It took all my willpower not to groan in disgust as I stomped out the back of the church.
The next day only Darnell and I showed up to math class. Mr. Griffin told us we wouldn’t speak about Christy, not without her present.
I had no interest in speaking about sensitivity, generosity, or any of those other traits today, so when Mr. Griffin asked for updates, I deferred to Darnell. If he was upset about Christy’s accident, he hid it better than I did, for he cheerfully went on about the progress he’d made. He’d dropped five pounds since Christmas by spending around two hours a day on his treadmill while watching documentaries and YouTube videos on cooking and nutrition.
Of course, it had been Christy’s cooking and her suggestion to get himself an education that led him down this path. She ought to have been there to hear the impact of her feedback and offer suggestions for how he could go farther. And then we could help her figure out how to get her swim team to the state championship. Instead, she was lying bruised and broken, her swim season lost.
I was still thinking about Christy on my way home from school when Jarod’s truck pulled up. “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”
I climbed into the cab. “Where were you today?”
“Visiting Christy.”
“You ditched school to go see her?”
“Yeah. She’s home now, just lying in her room all day. She’s got plenty of people coming by after school, but both her parents work, and she could use the company during the day. I don’t want to miss too many days in a row, though. You want to take tomorrow?”
“Me? Why not one of her friends?”
Jarod groaned. “This crap again? Kelvin, you are her friend.”
We both knew that wasn’t true. Sure, I’d done her a favor with the swim team video, and she’d paid me back by helping Darnell and I cook, but that was about it. “Trust me, she’d prefer someone else.”
“Actually, I think I’ll trust Christy. I asked her who she wanted to come tomorrow, and she chose you.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Cause I…”
“Cause you’re not Mr. Cool? Come on, Kelvin, grow up. Think about what Christy’s just been through.”
The initial shock wore off, and it all made sense. I was the one who always gave without looking for anything in return. Even when I asked Christy for help, it wasn’t for me, it was for Darnell. Visiting her would mean ditching school, something I never did, but I couldn’t refuse, not to someone in her condition. “Fine, I’ll go.”
“I’ll text you her address. Be there by eight in the morning so her mom can let you in before she goes to work.”
Mrs. Mendez opened the door immediately after I knocked. All teary-eyed, she wrapped me in a tight hug and said, “Gracias divino, gracias.” She pointed me toward Christy’s bedroom, then slipped past me to get into her car. The house was barely a quarter the size of my own, colorfully decorated, and immaculately clean. I knocked on Christy’s door, and she called out, “Who is it?”
“The White Gringo.”
“Come on in, Kelvin.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I entered a girl’s bedroom, not counting my sister’s. I was expecting a lot more pink. Also absent was any sign of stuffed animals or lace. Instead, I saw turquoise walls adorned with posters of the US Swim team, Shakira, and a curly-haired Latin singer the poster announced was Carlos Vives.
Christy lay in her bed looking even worse than she had at the funeral—her many bruises having turned a greenish-purple. “So glad you’re here,” she said. “You’re just in time for my sponge bath.”
“Uhhh…” was all I managed to say.
“Oh, sit down, I’m just kidding. Man, you blush easily.”
I plopped down on a green pouf on the floor and realized I was going to be here all day yet didn’t know what to say for even the first minute. “So…how are you feeling?”
“Never been better.”
I had taken Christy’s joke about the sponge bath as an indication she was in high spirits, but I’d misread her completely.
“What did our venerable teacher say about me and the accident?”
“He said we shouldn’t talk about you without you in the room.”
“I bet he thinks I screwed up. I did, didn’t I?”
That was an understatement. But how could I say that?
“Come on, Kelvin. Say something.”
I started untying my laces, mainly to buy time to think of a response. Yet, by the time my shoes were off, I’d gotten no further. She no longer wore that smile that welcomed me into the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and sagging, her chin shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re disappointed in me…?”
That wasn’t what I wanted to communicate, but I couldn’t deny it. “Look, it wasn’t…” I froze. It wasn’t what? Wasn’t her fault? I didn’t believe that. She knew better. I was here to be on her side, to be sympathetic. But I didn’t feel sympathetic.
“Say something, Kelvin.”
“I dunno…”
She stared right at me, her expression almost begging. “I’d rather you attack me than sit there and say nothing.” Her voice was sharper this time. Was she looking to pick a fight?
But how can you fight an invalid?
“Come on, Kelvin, you’re not just gonna sit there like a doofus all day, are you?”
I took the bait. “How could you do this?” I shot up to my feet, unable to contain myself. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, so I just paced before her bed. “You had everything. And you gave it away for…for what?”
“I had everything?” She pushed herself higher on the bed. “What everything did I have, Kelvin?”
“What? Are you kidding? You were smart, popular, athletic.” I almost added beautiful, but that felt like crossing a line.
“No, Kelvin, you’re the one who has everything. You’re the one who’s smart. You’re the one who has the fancy computers, the video camera, the parents who would jump to get you a tutor the minute you struggle with anything, who will pay for you to go to any college of your choice. My parents came to this country speaking no English, and the best jobs they could get were as a janitor and a housekeeper. I work my ass off to get the grades I do, and I get no help from anyone.
“No one in my family has ever gone to college. If I want to go, I have to pay for it myself. You act like I’m some natural born athlete. I worked twice as hard as any other girl on that swim team because I knew an athletic scholarship was my one chance for a free college education.”
“And you gave all that away to get a ride home from some drunk jerk?”
“Have some respect for the dead!”
Respect? She must be kidding me. “He called me far worse when he was alive.”
“No doubt. And I’m sure you called him plenty of awful things behind his back. And despite all of that, had he ever wanted to include you, you would have jumped at the chance to be his friend.”
“But he never did include me.”
“No, he didn’t. But you know why he included me? You know why everyone includes me?”
“Yes, because you’re beautiful and fun and—.”
“Ha! There are girls far more beautiful than me in our school who you’ve never even noticed because they’re not popular. You know why I have friends, and these girls don’t? Because I work as hard on my friendships as I do on my schoolwork and athletics. If I want to be friends with someone, I don’t wait for them to come to me, I reach out to them.”
“So where are all of these friends now? Why am I here while they’re all in school?”
“Why? Because I reached out to you, Kelvin.” Christy stopped screaming, and her head sank. “Because I need help. And I asked myself, of all my friends, who could best help me in this moment? I thought of you.”
Oh. My voice quieted to match hers. “Why me?”
“Because these past two months, I’ve seen you struggling with yourself like I’m struggling now. I’ve screwed up in the biggest way, and I’m disgusted with myself for it. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.” A tear welled up in her eye until it spilled over and ran down her cheek. “I’m not going to take on massive debt to go to college—I won’t mortgage my future that way. Swimming was my one chance, and now I’ve blown it.” She wiped her eyes with her fingers then looked up at me again. “As much as you might hate me right now, it’s nothing compared to how much I hate myself.”
“I don’t hate you, Christy. I just got angry.”
“Not nearly as angry as I’ve been. And I don’t want to be, Kelvin. I don’t want to hate myself. And I don’t want to go on the antidepressants half my friends are on. But I don’t know another way to get myself out of it.”
“Half your friends are on antidepressants?”
“That comes as a surprise to you?”
“Well, yeah. Like who?”
“Like Lindsay, Simon, Haley, Monica, Jessy—.”
“Monica Grey?”
“You’re surprised? You think she wakes up that perky? Monica’s taken medication since eighth grade, and she’s been hospitalized twice for bulimia.”
“But—.”
“Let me guess. You think because she’s pretty, she has no reason to be depressed?”
I fell back into the pouf. “I guess I did.”
“It’s time to come out of your bubble, Kelvin.” Christy settled into her pillow.
I was feeling more and more like a schmuck for coming into her house and yelling at her. “I guess you’re right. But let’s remember that you called me here. How do you think I can help you?”
“You’re not as shy as you were a few months ago. Not just around us, but in general.”
“Didn’t realize you were watching so closely.”
“You’re not as unique or mysterious as you think. Plus, this is the ‘thing’ you’re working on with your notecards. Just like I care how much Darnell weighs and how much Jarod makes, I’ve been watching your progress.” Christy raised an eyebrow on the uninjured side of her face. “You’re starting to like yourself more, aren’t you?”
I hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but when she said it, I knew it was true. “Yes.”
“That’s what I need, now. I want to like myself again. I need to forgive myself.”
I wanted to forgive her too. I didn’t want to be holding so much anger and frustration towards…towards my friend.
Christy said, “How much of the change do you attribute to your Identity card?”
“That’s what started it.”
“You think it can help me?”
“Let’s find out. You have a hand mirror?”
“Oh, no, no, no! I’ve got a blank notecard on my desk. Let’s start there.”
I understood the hesitancy to get in front of the mirror, but that’s precisely why we needed it. “Mirror,” I said.
“We’ll get there, but not yet.”
I learned from Mr. Griffin that there was a time to be gentle and a time to be strong. “You tell me where the mirror is, or I’m leaving.”
Christy crossed her arms. “Fine. My mom’s got one in the bathroom.”
The house just had one bathroom, yet there were enough perfumes, colognes, and hair care products to supply a small department store, all lined up in perfect rows. The hand mirror hung on a hook next to the medicine cabinet, no doubt to make sure the Mendez family appeared well groomed from all angles.
I brought it back to Christy and said, “You know what to do.”
Christy’s eyes teared, and she turned her head away after barely a glance. Of course, I’d reacted much the same way the first time I stood before the mirror, without the excuse of a car accident.
Still, this was not the time to coddle: “Look.”
Christy forced herself to gaze into the mirror, then drew away.
“Come on, your face is not that bad.”
“You shut your mouth before I give you one to match, Gringo. I’m not turning away from my face but from my eyes.”
I remembered looking into my eyes that first time—they reflected my disappointment back at me. “That was the hardest for me, too.”
“How’d you get over it?”
“I just did it, over and over again. No other way.”
Christy inched her head back towards the mirror. “I can’t.”
“Don’t be such a wuss. Just…I dunno…Imagine this is a swim meet and you’re up against the top team in the state. Muster whatever you’ve got. It’s just a mirror.”
With her eyes still pinched, she turned and finally faced the mirror. “Fine. Happy?”
“Now, ‘I love you, Christy.’”
“Love you too, Kelvin.”
“You think jokes will make this easier, but they won’t. Trust me, I’ve tried that many times. They only make it harder to be real with yourself. Say it.”
“I love you, Christy.” She collapsed into tears. “But I don’t. I don’t love myself. I worked so hard for years, and then ruined everything.”
A memory from earlier in the year came rushing back. “Remember what Mr. Griffin told Darnell after Thanksgiving? ‘Certain moments define a lifetime.’ Maybe this is your moment. Right now, you’re going to decide whether you’re going to be stronger than this, or it’s going to be stronger than you.”
“What if it is stronger than me?”
I didn’t have an easy answer. I knew that somewhere inside, Christy had tremendous strength and courage. But it wasn’t going to be sweet-talked out of her. She loved Coach Dana but chose Coach Sue. To help Christy, I had to be tough like Sue. “Then you might as well give up now. I’ll go put the mirror away.” I stood up and reached out for the mirror.
Christy took a deep breath. “No. Wait, I’ll do it. Just be nice, OK?”
“I can coddle you or I can help you, but I don’t think I can do both. Choose.”
“Help me. Please, help me.”
I sat back down “You know what to do.”
Christy held her gaze. She writhed, but no longer turned away. “I love you, Christy.”
“I am resilient,” I said.
“I am resilient.”
“Now give me three examples of your resilience.”
“OK, let me think. I didn’t drop the swim team when we lost our coach. Um…I studied my butt off in chemistry after I failed our first exam, and still came out of that class with a B+…”
“Great, just one more.”
“I called you because I didn’t want to give into my guilt. I wanted to be stronger than this.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” I gave Christy a high-five. “Now for the last step. Say, ‘In fact, I’m so resilient, I am….’”
“In fact,” she repeated, “I am so resilient, I am…what?”
“Rubberwoman,” I said.
“Rubberwoman?”
“Sure, Rubberwoman. You always bounce back.”
“Kelvin…” Christy rolled her eyes and cracked a smile, “that is so corny.”
“The cornier the better. But if you can think of anything you like more, go for it.”
“In fact, I am so resilient, I am Rubberwoman.” Christy laughed. Good, she was starting to enjoy this.
“I am dependable,” I said.
“I am dependable.” Without waiting for me, she said, “OK, three examples. My mom knows she can always count on me around the house. And…the team voted me captain cause they know I’ll be there for them. Also, when my friends need someone to talk to, they know I’ll listen.”
“Good, in fact—.”
“Shut up, Kelvin before you give me some other lame name.” Christy took a deep breath. “In fact, I’m so dependable, they call me The Rock.”
“Amazing, Rock. What should we do next?”
“I don’t know. How do I decide?”
“Think of traits you so badly need to believe you have, but the accident totally trashed.”
Christy thought for a moment, then said, “I am an inspiration.”
“Great, gimme reasons.”
“Well, I inspired Darnell to want to cook real food.”
“Totally. What else?”
“Our whole coach search inspired the team to work much harder this year.”
“Plus got our whole school behind you guys.”
“Not to mention all those coaches who offered us help and advice—and, of course, free coaching.” Christy examined herself in the mirror as if for the first time. Her expression turned pensive. “I think I’ve inspired my parents. They came to America to make a better life for us, and I think they’ve been blown away by all I’ve done.”
“Great. That’s three.”
“In fact,” Christy said, “I am so inspiring, I’m….Who’s inspiring?”
“I don’t know, Gandhi?”
“I’m not going to be Gandhi, give me a break.”
I scanned the room and saw fireworks above the Shakira poster. “How about a shooting star?”
“Good. I’m so inspiring, I’m a Shooting Star.” She made glamorous faces into the mirror—well, as glamorous as a crash test dummy can get.
The light in Christy’s eyes had returned. “Okay. One last statement. I am beautiful.” She studied her stitches in the mirror. “In fact, I’m so beautiful, I look just like the Bride of Frankenstein.”
I grabbed the mirror from her hand and took a hard look at myself. Suddenly, I liked what I saw. “I am wise,” I said, and at the moment, I felt it. “I am so wise, I am a fortune cookie.”
Christy grabbed back the mirror and held it out so that we could both see ourselves in it. “We are friends,” she said. “In fact, we’re such good friends, we’re like…”
“Batman and Rubberwoman.”
