Faith: Chapter 10

Blessed are those who can give without remembering, and take without forgetting.
- Princess Elizabeth Asquith Bibesco

Belle never meant to fall asleep. It just happened. The last time she remembered looking at the clock, it was just past 9 PM. She had been in the middle of catching up on homework. She had missed seven days of school, which was the maximum a student could miss each quarter without failing all their classes automatically.

Homework hadn’t been going well. She had a week’s worth to catch up on, and though two of her classes weren’t difficult - she could do choir and keyboarding in her sleep - the other two were. Belle found herself overwhelmed by her geography text and the prospect of researching some random historical figure for her humanities class.

Somewhere in the midst of the homework, Belle had fallen asleep. With sleep came the nightmare she’d had almost every night since she’d overdosed.

It started in the kitchen with she and her mom fighting. Sherry looked tired and angry, and Belle had seen the disappointment in her eyes countless times before - she just never knew what it meant until now. Belle heard the horrible things her mom said to her, as she had every night.

She relived going into the bathroom and sitting by herself a long time, before finally facing her own reflection in the mirror. Her face was battered. She had a black eye, and her bottom lip was split. Terrified eyes stared back at her. In that moment, Belle knew what she had to do. She felt a heaviness so real it left her breathless, and Belle knew she had never felt pain like it. It was so poignant, Belle was sure it would overcome her completely. She always wept, desperate for comfort or reassurance that she knew would never be there.

In her nightmare, Belle took the sinus medicine, and she felt the effects. Her heart raced, and her face felt hot. Belle felt nausea wash over her and looked around in confusion, momentarily unsure of what was going on. Her stomach clenched painfully, and by the time her vision started dimming at the edges, and she remembered what she’d done - Belle found herself unable to call for help.

She blacked out, feeling petrified as the world moved from a swirl of colors to darkness. Belle could feel herself fall backward, as she struggled to keep hold of the sink, and could do nothing to stop herself. She was out before she hit the ground.

Only this time, her mom didn’t find her. It happened like she had thought it would. Her mom hadn’t discovered her there until the next evening. Her mom was in work clothes, and had walked through Belle’s bedroom before knocking on the bathroom door. Belle observed herself and her mother in third-person. She heard the water running and the fan - that had been a half-hearted attempt to block out sound, in case she’d started crying. The lights were garish as they’d been in the ER, getting her stomach pumped. She saw her own body unmoving on the floor - her skin ashy by this time and her body twisted in an unnatural way from the fall. Her mom’s voice cut through her senses like a knife every time. Each night she’d dreamed this, her mother’s voice sounded the same, demanding to know what she was thinking, and then turning and walking out of the room - disgust showing clearly on her face.

Belle woke up gasping for breath. It was a raspy, horrible sound, and Belle was terrified she wouldn’t be able to get enough air. The nightmare was so real. Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she couldn’t remember when they started. They burned her eyes and ran down her face and neck - a warm salt-water trickle. Her nose ran constantly, and she was already developing a headache from crying so hard.

Shaking, she knocked a notebook to the floor, and wrapped her arms around herself. She sobbed, trying to pick the notebook up, but she couldn’t even bend over. If she had, Belle was sure she wouldn’t be able to stand again.

Fumbling, Belle stepped into her shoes, and grabbed her jacket off the bed. Her pajamas were short-sleeved, and Belle already felt cold, but she knew she couldn’t stay where she was. As quietly as she could, she let herself out of the house and closed the door, feeling her stomach drop even further.

Her mother never even stirred.

Once in the driveway, Belle’s hand shook as she tried to put the key in the ignition. Once on the road, she cried all the way to church, feeling an overwhelming need to be comforted by God, and to repent again for very nearly taking her own life.

Belle barely remembered the drive itself, knowing she must have relied solely on muscle memory and God’s protection in order to arrive in one piece, barely remembering how she got there.

Through tears, Belle looked toward church. The big, white building was dark, with no cars in the lot. Belle didn’t have to get out to know that the door was locked. The clock in the car read 10:30. Knowing that the drive itself took nearly a half-hour, Belle couldn’t imagine that she’d been asleep less than an hour and managed to have such a horrific nightmare.

She clutched the steering wheel and prayed desperately that God would forgive her. Somewhere, Belle knew she was. She’d been praying the same prayer, almost from the moment she regained consciousness and realized she was alive.

Belle couldn’t remember exactly when things had started unraveling for her. It had been years. She didn’t know why, suddenly, memories were so vivid for her. Before, there had been nothing but an ache in her heart. Maybe it was knowing Elise. Maybe it was confiding in her. Maybe it was meeting Greta - and seeing that it was possible to be unflinchingly honest in your appraisal of the world and yourself. Whatever it was, Belle couldn’t help but wish she could go back in time and somehow unlearn the truth.

“God, why?” she choked, as an image of her father‘s enraged face filled her mind. “Why was I like that? Why didn’t You make me good, so he didn’t be like that to me? Why didn’t You just let him take my life then? I can’t do this anymore! I can’t live guilty…” Helplessly, she pounded the steering wheel, feeling unsatisfied still, and wept.

She could hear the still, small voice inside her, but couldn’t bring herself to listen. It hurt too much to hear she was loved right now. When she knew she’d brought so much pain and heartache to her mother and so much disappointment to her father.

After fifteen minutes, Belle couldn’t stand it anymore, and got out of the car. The combination of the heat and the pine-tree scented air-freshener was enough to cause her to feel suffocated and overwhelmed. There was snow and ice in the lot, and immediately her shoes were wet. It wasn’t windy, but the air was cold enough that it took her breath.

She shook helplessly and found it difficult to walk. Belle lost her footing several times in the short walk from her car to the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Belle tried the door and found it locked, as she suspected. She leaned against it and sank down, until she was sitting against the glass. Though she was freezing, Belle knew she would rather be closer to sanctuary and be cold, than stay in her warm car and feel forsaken.

Helplessly, Belle buried her head in her knees, as sobs shook her. She didn’t want to imagine what it might have been like had her mother not found her soon enough, but that was all her mind could picture. That, and the countless times she had disobeyed as a little girl. She remembered her mother’s words and felt her heart squeeze painfully, knowing she wouldn’t have said them if they hadn’t been true. Though it had been close to two weeks since their fight, Belle could still remember every word. They haunted her at night, when she was alone, and anytime she looked into her mother’s eyes.

Belle kept her head down to ward off the chill. Her ears had lost feeling, her feet and hands were freezing. She regretted coming in her pajamas; she may as well have worn nothing at all beneath her coat - the cold bit right through the thin fabric. Still, Belle stayed and sought comfort in the only place she had always felt accepted.

--

Gabe had a lot on his mind. Since arriving home earlier that day he had been jet-lagged but hadn’t been able to sleep. He was torn, not knowing whether he’d done the right thing in leaving early or not.

No one had met him at the airport. No one had known he was coming home. But that hadn’t bothered him. Though he’d been exhausted, he’d called Belle first thing, and gotten her voice mail. Momentarily, he had panicked, and then remembered her saying in an email recently that she planned to return to school today.

So he had left a message, telling her he was here, and he would see her soon. He hoped her day was going well.

Having been home for only hours, culture shock had started to set in big time. Actually, it had started the minute he’d gotten off the plane for a layover in the South before making the last leg of his journey home and seeing an airport gift shop. Living among people with so little, and almost never making the trip into town himself, Gabe had seen little more than dirt roads, mango trees, little kids and Jorge for several weeks. Magazine covers seemed foreign and pointless. Everything he saw seemed like excess. Even his own apartment and his parents’ house seemed huge and unfamiliar. Gabe felt like a stranger here.

He knew God was hard at work in him, though. He felt completely different than he had leaving the country. Gabe felt like he had grown, not only in strength of character, but also in faith. He had relied on God, rather than taking matters into his own hands, and that made him smile.

Pulling into the parking lot of the church, Gabe immediately noticed a small dark-colored car. Not able to place it, Gabe didn’t give it a second glance. He had some talking to do with God, and he knew that despite feeling like a stranger at home, he had never felt a foreigner in church.

He was at the door when Gabe realized suddenly that he wasn’t alone. Something was against the door. A dark, ominous shape. Without analyzing, Gabe knew it had to be a person. His heart leapt to his throat, and he nearly dropped the key.

“Are you okay?” he asked uncertainly.

Belle lifted her head, jerking back, as she realized she was no longer alone.

Gabe was standing out in the cold, dressed warmly in a jacket, hat, gloves and boots. Had she not recognized his eyes - which were a warm, shining amber color - Belle would have tried to run. She was hunched almost double against the cold as he investigated her. Belle glanced at him though her tears. She could see dress pants, and she suspected an equally nice top was hiding beneath all his extra layers.

Startled, Gabe squinted in the moonlight. “Belle?” The dark-haired stranger didn’t look like Belle, but it was all he could think of, especially after realizing that the car in the lot looked a lot like hers, and that the person in front of the doors, was, in fact, a girl.

She nodded, still not able to compose herself.

For a moment, Gabe stood, stunned. He could barely make out her features due to the dark, and his shock, but her eyes were unmistakable. When he touched her, he felt the leather jacket she always wore and realized how little she was wearing.

Gabe could tell that she must have left in a hurry. Snowflakes stood out like diamonds against the tangled darkness of her hair. She had come in fancy pajamas that looked more suited for a summer night, and an old pair of tennis shoes with no socks. Belle’s eyes were so dark, Gabe suspected they were almost the same color as her new hair. Her skin looked pale in the moonlight, and her breathing was shallow and sounded raspy.

Hurriedly, he unlocked the door, and rushed to put the code in the church’s security system.

In minutes he was back outside the door. “Come on, sweetie,” he said gently, helping her to her feet. She could barely stand, though from cold or upset, he couldn’t tell.

Supporting her until she reached the couch across from the coffee bar, he moved quickly to take off his coat and cover her with it. Then, he went to other rooms, praying there would be a blanket somewhere - maybe in one of the preschool rooms downstairs.

Belle remained on the couch, still crying, and still unable to control her shaking. Her stomach and throat were sore - all-too-frequent reminders of the nightmare she had come out of, both the dream and reality. The dark was the only thing that gave her comfort.

Though Gabe had begun turning lights on downstairs, upstairs where she remained was cloaked in darkness, aside from the lit sign above the coffee bar. She didn’t want Gabe seeing her like this, but didn’t mind him being there if he couldn’t see her

In seconds, he returned, and darted out to his car, where he remembered keeping an extra blanket in the winter months.

Back inside again, Gabe spread a thick blanket over her and sat beside her on the couch, fishing out her ice-cold hand and holding it. “Hey,” he said gently. “I missed you.”

Though it had been nearly an hour since she awoke from her nightmare, Belle still was nowhere near okay. She had felt close to hyperventilating since she woke up and couldn’t stop shaking no matter what she did. Against her will, the tears still fell.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing a tissue from a box on a nearby table and handing it to her.

“No,” Belle admitted brokenly. Her voice was strained, tinged with panic, and much lower than Gabe remembered. She made no move to take the tissue.

Gabe looked into her eyes, and could see the pain in them, despite the darkness around them. The headlights on his car lit up the night outside, and the moon shown brightly. “What happened?” he asked quietly, feeling, for the first time, like he could handle hearing her answer. Whether he would have been able to say the same before the trip, Gabe didn’t know. But he doubted it. He remembered leaving Alex alone the year before after he’d promised to be there. And with confidence, Gabe knew this time would be different. He’d grown since then.

“I dreamed that my mom didn’t find me,” Belle said, sniffing. “Not until the next night.”

Though Gabe was shocked, he simply nodded and listened. She didn’t need to give him more details. He knew the nature of her nightmares. She’d told him she had them in emails recently. He had a feeling it was because she didn’t feel like anyone else would care to hear about them.

“She blames me for everything…” she wept, folding her arms across her stomach, as if to literally hold herself together.

But Gabe reached out again and took her hand back. “Mmm…” he said sympathetically. “Your mom?”

Belle nodded. “She says it’s all my fault! Why we left my dad…”

“He didn’t leave you?” Gabe asked suddenly, dread filling his insides.

She shook her head. “We left after he went off on me and beat me up. I thought he’d kill me before then, but Mom took me and we left. When I confronted her, ‘cause I was remembering, she said the reason he did that was because of me. That I drove him to it.”

“You know that isn’t true. Look at me,” Gabe said seriously. “That’s not true,” he squeezed her hand.

Helplessly, she wept, trying to take her hand away and cross her arms. But Gabe held on.

“But it feels true,” he said knowingly. “Doesn’t it?”

Nodding, she finally gave up, and gripped his hand until it hurt.

“You’ve had a hard couple months, huh?” he soothed. “What else do you remember?”

“He…hurt us a lot…” she managed, gasping.

“You and your mom both?” Gabe questioned calmly.

Nodding again, Belle let out a shaky breath. “She grabbed this bandana off the counter when we ran. It was black, and she gave it to me to put on when we were far enough away. I saw Alex wear one earlier this summer, and I guess it triggered something in me,” Belle admitted, beginning to calm.

When Gabe didn’t say anything, Belle went on. “She acts like nothing ever happened. Like we never left him. Like I never took those pills. She said I can’t keep trying to take myself out of the game whenever I hear something I don’t like, and that everybody says things they don’t mean when they’re angry. But I know she did mean it.”

“Can you talk to her?” Gabe asked.

Belle shook her head. “She’s too busy for me. The only time we talk is when she wants to. To get after me about something, or if she’s stressed about work. It’s the same as it always was. Nothing’s different. She still doesn’t care. She was at home sleeping when I woke up after that nightmare and she never even checked to see what was wrong. I got out of the house to come here, and she never noticed.”

“That probably doesn’t do a lot for your sense of safety, does it?”

“No. I mean, if I’d wanted to, I could’ve just gone to the corner store and gotten something and taken it,” Belle said bitterly.

Gabe’s eyes warmed with a smile. “But you didn’t. You came here instead,” he told her confidently.

“I just wanted to be where I know I’d always be accepted,” she said softly. “And ask for forgiveness.”

“Honey, you are,” Gabe insisted. “I know you, and I know you’ve asked God’s forgiveness already. All you’ve got to do is ask once, and He’ll take care of it.”

“I know…but I can’t forgive myself…” she admitted quietly.

“Do you want to?” Gabe asked, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” she said, her voice breaking.

Reaching over, Gabe pulled the blanket around her more securely. “Then we’ll pray that God does it.”

“You sound like Mikhail,” Belle said, laughing in spite of herself. “’We make it true.’ That’s what he said when I told him I didn’t know if I could believe it was true I was forgiven.”

“Sounds like something he would say,” Gabe said smiling. He waited, wanting her not to feel pressured one way or another, knowing she had been through enough for several lifetimes.

Finally Belle nodded, looking into Gabe’s eyes certainly. “I want you to pray for me,” she said softly, but with all the confidence that had been lost just moments before.

Gabe closed his eyes, hearing her speak those same words twelve years prior.

Finding her other hand, he held them both, bowed his head and prayed fervently. He let his love his friend become evident, knowing that faith worked through love.

“Dear Lord, I thank You so much for Belle. I thank You that she is not her own. That she’s not her father’s daughter or even her mother’s daughter before she’s Your daughter. I thank You for all the ways You have been working in Belle’s heart. And right now, God, we just pray that You’d cause Belle to forgive herself in the same way You have already forgiven her. Because if You don’t condemn her, what right has she to condemn herself?

“I thank You that You caused Belle to come here tonight, and let us find each other. I thank You for reminding both of us that we aren’t alone. God, I pray that You would continue to work in Belle and lift her depression, and remind her that You are her creator and that she is fearfully and wonderfully made - that it was You who created her inmost being. And just like Alex reminded them when they brought spoons, though she’s not exactly like any of the rest of us, God, You still created her, and You’re still going to use her for Your glory. And You have already, in so many ways.

“God I pray that You would cause Belle to understand that she’s not at fault for things that happened when she was a little girl. I pray that You would heal all those old hurts, and take away the pain of her mother’s words, and realize that what she said wasn’t true at all…”

Gabe trailed off, unable to say “Amen,” or end the prayer, until he was sure he had covered everything, and that Belle didn’t have anything to add. When she didn’t say anything, and when nothing more came to his mind, Gabe finished. “Lord, we ask all this in Your name. Amen.”

Belle reached out, before Gabe spoke the last word, and embraced him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s no problem,” he told her confidently. “And if you need anything, I want you to call somebody,” he said, taking her at arm’s length and looking her in the eyes.

Belle nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m serious. I’m gonna be calling you, but if something comes up, and we’re not talking, I want you to call somebody. If you’re in school, excuse yourself, and go to the restroom and make a call.”

She smiled slightly, entertained a little at the fact that Gabe was giving her advice to make covert calls from the ladies’ room in school.

“Okay,” she managed, though it was difficult to say. Belle knew that these kind of conversations were the real thing, like binding promises that couldn’t be broken.

“Okay?” he asked, taking her hand again. “You need to practice reaching out. We’re here for you, if you’ll give us the chance to be. And you are so loved…” he told her genuinely. “I hope you know that.”

“I’m starting to see it,” she admitted. And with the admission, Belle felt a little of her heaviness lift.

--

Gabe got up early the next morning. There was something about getting up at 6 AM that was appealing, despite the fact that he knew he could legitimately sleep for several more hours. After spending time with God and praying, he got on the phone and called Alex, prepared to do so over and over until she answered.

“Hello?” Alex asked, feeling almost drunk with tiredness. Whoever was calling didn’t realize that her Wednesday wake-up time was never before 7 AM.

“Guess who?” a familiar voice on the other end urged.

Alex sat straight up in bed, ripping the phone away from her ear. “Gabe?!” She very nearly screamed it, and only held back because her parents were asleep.

“Hey…” he greeted. “How are you?”

“When did you get back?” she asked, already swinging her legs over the side of the bed and getting up to pace with excitement.

“Yesterday. I hung out with my parents for a while, and went to church last night. Sorry I haven’t called until now.”

“No, that’s cool. It’s cool that you’re back!” she exclaimed.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to do coffee with me?” he asked slyly.

Alex stopped pacing. “Right now? The sun’s not even up. And what about your Costa Rican coffee.”

“Actually, I brought that back for my parents. Though I can probably get a hold of some for you to have, if you want to try it. And yes, right now! It’s a beautiful day…”

“How do you even know that? I thought you’d be frozen after twenty-four hours in snow-country…” Alex commented, fishing through her clothes for the perfect shirt to wear. She finally found it, and smiled. “I’m wearing a special shirt today, just for you,” she told him happily. “Just in case you forgot how I am.” Alex smiled. This one said, WHAT? I’M NOT LISTENING.

“You don’t have to wear a shirt for me to remember that,” Gabe told her easily. “So meet me at the usual one in a few minutes?” he asked.

“Yeah. You’re not sitting there now, are you?” she said suspiciously.

“No, I figured I’d give you a few minutes to get ready.”

They hung up, and Alex raced around, finding her boots, coat, hat and gloves in record time. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her pajama pants, so the stars and moons would compliment the dark blue in her shirt quite well. And Gabe would just have to forgive her for the fact that she had done little else before coming. She was excited. What could she say?

By the time she arrived, he was already seated at one of their two favorite chairs - the ones that squished when you sat in them - right by the fireplace. He already had a beverage, and she noticed a second one right away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, sitting down, and immediately taking a sip, and grinning broadly when she tasted espresso.

Gabe smiled back. “Figured you might need a pick me up this morning,” he shrugged.

“You figured right,” she told him smiling. “So how was your trip back?” she wondered, crossing her legs in the enormous chair.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted. “I slept most of the way back.”

“Did Brent have a total moment when you told him you were going?” Alex asked, feeling intrigued.

“No. He was pretty resigned to it by the time I actually did it. Besides, these last few days are just the beach and debriefing. Tom and Lydia didn’t mind at all. I think they were surprised I stayed as long as I did afterward. I just feel bad leaving Christian and the rest.” Gabe paused, thinking. “Oh shoot!”

“What?” Alex asked, confused.

“I forgot to give Belle that thing Christian said to give to her…” he said regretfully.

Alex tilted her head. “When did you see Belle?”

“Last night. We both ended up at the church around the same time. I had it with me then, too, and I didn’t give it to her.”

“How was she?” Alex asked, growing serious.

Gabe shook his head. “Dealing with some heavy stuff. But she promised to call somebody if stuff comes up for her.”

“Do you think she will?” Alex asked, ashamed at being skeptical, but not able to hold back.

Gabe nodded. “She will.” He took a sip of his drink before he spoke again. “How long did your depression last?” he wondered, hoping it didn’t seem like an insensitive question.

“Nine months,” she said easily. “I didn’t take anything for it, so it was really hard. But God finally lifted it. I call Belle every day before she leaves for school, to make sure she’s up and okay,” Alex confided. “I’ve been over quite a bit, so hopefully if something comes up she’ll feel safe calling me or somebody with it.”

“I think she will. Do you talk about your depression with her?”

“Mostly, I just tell her that God lifted it. She seems really stuck on the fact that she might feel this way forever. So I just remind her that she won’t. I think it helps her to know there’s an end in sight, even if she might not know when it’ll come.”

“I’m glad she has you,” Gabe said, squeezing Alex’s hand.

--

Belle went to school the following morning with her outlook a little brighter. At least she knew someone cared. Not that God didn’t, but sometimes it was nice to know that a person did.

Choir was a little rocky. Her teacher pulled her out, and let her listen again during class, even though she was already pretty far behind, missing two concerts and a day of rehearsal. She was grateful that he was going easy on her so far. When she came to him and asked what her grade was, she was shocked. She had never received a C in choir. When she begged for ways to improve it, he told her she could write a paper on a composer of a certain piece of music they were learning, and if she wanted, another on her experience learning the previous music for the holiday concert. That made her feel slightly better, but she still had to deal with Andrew’s icy stares, and the way he ignored her in the halls when she asked him for the notes in another class.

Kids didn’t treat her differently, but that was because they didn’t know. The few times she had seen Josh, Belle felt horrible. He didn’t seem able to look at her without his eyes filling with tears, much less speak to her.

Belle was on her way to Humanities and couldn’t deny the nervousness she felt. She knew that this particular teacher seemed to want to know every detail of her absence, even though it was excused. Belle knew the class was far into research for presentations. She would have to work doubly hard to keep up.

Her third hour class didn’t worry her. Belle could do Keyboarding make up work in her sleep. In fact, she already had made up most of the work for that class, once she got home from school the previous day. The two choir papers weren’t going to be difficult, but Geography was. Even on her best day, that one required extra studying on her part, in order to pass the map tests of the different countries in each continent.

Taking a deep breath, Belle made her way into Humanities and found her seat. She ducked her head low, but it didn’t matter. The teacher still noticed her and came over.

“How are you doing?” she asked in a tone that made Belle angry. She had never felt condescended to before.

“I’m fine,” she answered shortly.

“Are you really? You were gone a long time. My excused absence list said yours was due to hospitalization.”

Belle tried to ignore her. Luckily the bell rang soon after, and the teacher returned to the front of the room to talk about their presentations and quiz them on the previous day’s notes.

Without being told, Belle knew she would be taking this quiz. She’d been there for the material, so she had no excuse not to take it.

She struggled to write legibly but even her best attempts looked horrible. Belle was ashamed that she couldn’t even do this right, and handed hers in facedown.

“Whose is this?” the teacher asked, minutes later, as she was grading. The paper was displayed to the room from her desk.

“It’s mine,” Belle said, raising her hand.

“Belle Sutton. I can’t even read your name! Now, you’ve had enough absences that you can’t afford to turn in work like this,” she scolded.

Closing her eyes, Belle knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue. She’d been praying that the shaking in her hands would go away fast, but so far, no luck. Writing was difficult. Belle felt her eyes fill. She already had a headache and was nauseous, the last thing she needed was public humiliation.

Belle forced herself to wait until most of the class was focused on their work before she stood up and approached the desk. “Can I get a bathroom pass?” she asked. “I don’t feel very well.”

“I understand that you’ve been hospitalized,” Belle was told in that maddening tone. “But you are really going to have to work on your stamina…and honestly, Belle, even though I can read these answers? It’s far from A work.” the teacher told her, sounding disappointed. Finally, she wrote out the pass, and Belle took it gratefully, making sure her cell phone was in her pocket.

Once Belle was alone in a stall, and fairly certain that she wasn’t going to throw up, she called Alex.

“Hey Bella,” Alex greeted happily. “What’s up?”

Tears were falling already, and Belle knew better than to try and keep them in. “I don’t know,” she managed sadly.

“Aw… What’s up?” Alex asked again, moving outside a building on campus, where it was quieter.

“I just feel like crap, and my teacher’s bein’ a jerk to me…”

“Why?”

“’Cause she couldn’t read my quiz, and I felt sick and had to get a pass,” Belle said, sounding defeated.

“That shaking and your feeling sick? There’s nothing you can do about that. Those are side-effects you can’t control. Can you talk to her about that?” Alex asked moderately.

“And tell her what? That I’m a head case? She’s already after me for every detail about my absence!” Belle exclaimed.

“You need to explain to her you’re going to need extra consideration for the next little while,” Alex said firmly. “Not across the board, just in a couple places, and if she doesn’t get that, then I’ll come in and talk to her,” she kidded. “You’ll get through this, kiddo. It’s gonna be okay.”

Belle sighed, not able to keep a smile off her face at the thought of Alex coming to school and talking some sense into her annoying teacher. “Okay,” Belle said finally. “Thank you.”

“Keep your chin up,” Alex encouraged. “You’ll make it.”