Page 50 of #Lovestrong
Lena
Oh. My. God. I can't breathe.
"Good evening, everyone, and thank you for having me here tonight, Senator," Jazmin says as she folds her hands together on top of the podium. I haven't seen her in almost ten months. Despite living in a small town, I never agreed to see her after the funerals and I've rarely taken her calls.
She never did call me back after her suicide attempt this year. But she looks so amazing. Strong and steady, just like she always has. Tears roll down my face, and I'm vaguely aware of Mrs. Carrigan squeezing my hands and Declan holding me. I can't take my eyes off my best friend.
"My name is Jazmin, and a year ago, my life and the lives of every person living in Decleburg, Virginia, changed. At 11:30 a.m., I sat in my Spanish class, irritated that it was the first year I didn't share lunch period with my three best friends, Cameron, Camilla, and Magdalena. We'd had English together the period before and planned to sit together in study hall the following period to make plans for the Homecoming dance in three weeks.
"Cameron and Magdalena were going together, thankfully. They'd only crushed on each other since like third grade. I was going with my boyfriend, Sam, and Camilla with her boyfriend, Damon. None of us would make it to that dance. A strange, loud popping sound and screams echoed into my classroom for one, maybe two, minutes. When the popping stopped, the screams continued and didn't stop for months."
Jazmin looked over and met my eyes, tears welling up and spilling over her face. She licks her lips and nods toward me, but I still can't move.
"A boy we'd known all our lives brought his father's AR15 and 9MM handgun to school. He opened fire on that lunch room and killed twenty-one of my fellow classmates before using the handgun to take his own life. Of the six of us planning to go to Homecoming together, only Magdalena and I are still alive. And I lost her that day too. She was shot twice and survived, but my best friend never really left that lunch room. Cameron died protecting her. Camilla, Damon, and my boyfriend were all killed there too. A year later, I still haven't been able to go in there.
"The Senator asked me what I thought we needed to keep this from happening again in the future, and the truth is, I don't know. I don't know what kind of laws it will take to make sure no one does at another school what that boy did at ours. But I know, and your Senator does now too, that our politicians can no longer sit by and do nothing. No matter what happens, nothing will bring back my friends, nothing will ease the pain that comes with living while they're all gone. But something has to give, because at sixteen, we should not have had to go to so many funerals."
As the Senator hugs Jazmin, I stand up, almost tripping over myself as I try to get out of the aisle we're sitting in. Declan grabs my hand but I rip it away from him, tears coming so hard and fast, everything is blurry. As I stumble toward the stage, Jazmin turns away from the Senator and jumps off the front of the raised platform. We slam together so hard, it actually hurts, but I don't care.
"I'm sorry," I cry into her shoulder as we hug each other tighter than we ever have.
She squeezes me like her life depends on it and the wave of emotion, of how much I've missed my friend, hits me. "Don't do that. You don't have anything to be sorry for."
As my tears settle, the clicking of cameras makes my stomach knot. "Come on," I say quietly, taking her hand and turning to leave the press conference. As I pass the second row, I nod at Declan. He, Jackson, and Candice stand, and I don't wait, knowing they'll follow us.
Once we're in the hallway and all the noise dies away, Jazmin pulls on my hand, stopping behind me. When I turn to face her, she has more tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't call you back. Mom told me she talked to you."
I glance down at the scars on each of her wrists, still fresh. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. If I had been, maybe you wouldn't have done that."
Jazmin, who's always been the mom-type in our group of friends, places her hands on my shoulders and looks me square in the face. "Stop blaming yourself for the actions of others. I tried to commit suicide and that's on me. Peter shot up that lunch room and that's on him. No matter what has happened or how you feel, you have to stop blaming yourself for the actions of others, Lena."
Noise briefly assaults our ears and then the room goes quiet again. Jazmin glances over my shoulder and then looks at me with her eyebrows raised.
"Baby?"
Declan's voice calms everything in me and my pulse slows almost instantly. "Yeah?" I take Jazmin's hand in mine and turn to face him. His eyes are wide and his body is tense. It amazes me how much he puts up with when I start losing my grip on reality.
"You okay?" He takes a hesitant step toward me, Jackson and Candice right behind him.
I hold my free hand out and he moves forward, lacing our fingers together as he stands next to me. "Jaz, this is Declan. And these are our best friends, Jackson and Candice."
"Hey," she says with a smile.
"So, as opposed to going back to the Q and A, I say we blow this popsicle stand and go hit up Grandma Mabel's for some pie?" Jackson claps Declan on the shoulder, a mega-watt smile on his face.
"I'm down," Jazmin says enthusiastically. "Do they have pecan?"
We turn and make our way to the door, my hand still in Declan's and my other arm around Jaz's waist.
"Yes," Declan says with so much happiness in his voice. "Best pecan pie ever."