Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded (22 page)

“We're almost there,” Delilah tells her.

“But the snow's not letting me go!” Lucy shrieks.

I laugh and keep walking with Lucy. She pouts and whines until she sees the snowman.
She runs over to it in excitement.

“Can we name it, can we name it, can we name it?” she asks quickly, like it's one
word.

“Name it whatever you want,” Delilah tells her.

“I wanna name it . . . Olaf!”

“Of course you do.”

“Olaf is my friend,” she says, hugging the snowman. The head nearly tumbles down,
but I manage to stop it. “Oopsies,” Lucy says quietly.

I put the fake, plastic carrot nose onto Olaf 's face. It's a little lopsided, but
it looks okay. Lucy puts on the buttons, and Delilah
wraps the scarf around it—or
should I say him? The wind keeps blowing the hat off, so we decide not to use it.

When we're done, we take a step back and look at our creation. I can't believe I
actually made it.

“I love Olaf!” Lucy shrieks.

I look at the snowman and start crying again. I can't seem to stop. The tears just
keep coming. I sit down in the snow and sob. Lucy looks up at me with a worried expression.

“Levi is crying,” she whispers to Delilah.

“Why don't you go try to build a little snowman so Olaf can have a friend?” Delilah
tells her.

“Okay!” Lucy says, going over to another part of the yard.

Delilah comes and sits beside me. I can't stop thinking about Delia's message. She
would have loved to see snow and build a snowman. We could have made hot chocolate
afterward too. There's so much we could've done, but will never have the chance to
experience together.

“I know you're thinking about Delia,” she says. She always seems to know what I'm
thinking. “You're probably thinking about the message. And you're probably thinking
about how you and Delia could have done all this together.”

I nod and wipe under my eyes, but end up getting a bunch of snow on my face. Delilah
doesn't say anything for a while.

“I really am sorry. I hope one day you can find true happiness again. We'll work
on it though, okay?” she whispers.

I nod and sniff.

“Do you want to go inside? It's okay if you do. I totally understand if you want
to be by yourself,” she says quietly.

I shake my head. I don't want to be by myself. I want to not think about Delia, and
I know that if I go back into my room, I'll think about her even more and be sadder.
I don't want to deal with the feeling of being alone right now.

I need someone.

Delilah smiles a little. “Are you sure?”

I nod.

We walk over to Lucy, who is struggling to build a snowman by herself.

“Are you okay now?” Lucy asks, taking her attention away from the pile of snow that
is supposed to be a snowman.

I sniff and nod. I try to muster a smile.

“Good. I don't wanna see you sad!”

Delilah smiles and nudges my shoulder.

Lucy pokes my leg, so I bend down to her height.

“Look-it,” she says, pointing into my backyard. I look over to where she's pointing,
and there's a deer. I'm used to seeing kangaroos occasionally outside in Australia,
but not deer.

I stare in amazement, and Delilah finally notices it too.

“Don't make any noise—not that you would,” she says, smiling.

“It's Sven!” Lucy whispers excitedly. She starts running to it, but Delilah grabs
her arm.

“Just watch Sven from over here,” she says.

“Why? He's my friend,” Lucy pouts.

“He's, uh, not in a friendly mood today?” Delilah says.

“Can I see him tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

Lucy turns around, but I can't stop watching the deer. It's so pretty and peaceful.
I'm seeing so many new things today. Delia would have loved the deer too.

After making some snow angels, Lucy gets cold, as expected, but I am too. I'm worn
out from all the crying as well. We head back to Delilah's house, but this time I
carry Lucy so the walk is faster.

When we get there, Delilah's mom spends a few minutes getting Lucy out of all of
her snow gear. While she does that, Delilah and I make hot chocolate. I don't really
do much except stand in the kitchen wrapped in a blanket. I'm not used to being this
cold. I didn't feel cold while we were outside, but now that we're inside, I feel
like I have hypothermia.

“Can you go get the milk?” Delilah asks.

I head over to the fridge and grab the milk, which is very hard to do while wrapped
in a blanket. Delilah laughs as she watches me struggle to hold the milk.

“You're such a dork,” she says through giggles.

I scrunch my nose and feel my cheeks blush. I pull my blanket tighter around me.

Delilah finishes making the hot chocolate and pours two mugs. Lucy ended up falling
asleep a few minutes after we got back.

We sit on the couch drinking the hot chocolate, and I'm finally warming up. I thought
I'd never be warm again. I tug at the blanket so it covers my feet.

“I hope you like my blanket that you stole,” Delilah says jokingly. “You're lucky
I like you enough to let you have it.”

I reach over and wrap my arms around her so she's inside the blanket too. Her laugh
is muffled by my shoulder. We rearrange how we're sitting so we can both fit under
the blanket comfortably. We could probably just find another blanket, but we don't.

Delilah looks over to me and smiles. I can feel her hands beside mine underneath
the blanket.

For the first time in forever (yes, I'm quoting
Frozen
), I'm happy.

Chapter Thirty-One

LEVI

O
nce I got home from Delilah's the other day, reality sunk in and I was upset. But
what else is new.

I had a great time with Delilah and Lucy when it snowed, but being that happy made
me more upset. I feel guilty, even though Delia said that she wants me to be happy.
It's just so hard. My sadness is a part of me now. I'm not automatically going to
become happy. It's going to take a lot to do that. I'm not sure if I'll ever be fully
happy without feeling slightly guilty.

The voice mail really messed with my emotions. It wasn't what I was expecting at
all. I don't really know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. I'm
not sure if it would have made things easier if she'd said she was mad at me, like
I thought she was. I just wish I could have one more day with her and settle everything.
But now I'll never know what could have, or would have, happened to us. I'll always
wonder.

That night, I was awake for hours, just thinking about Delia. Nights will always
be the hardest for me. I really am trying to get better, but it seems impossible
sometimes.

So for the past few days, I've locked myself in my room like I usually do. Delilah's
texted me a few times asking how I am, but I haven't responded. I just can't right
now.

I've been thinking a lot about Delilah too. I'm really conflicted by everything
about her. She makes me very happy, but she makes me sad too. It's so confusing.
She's
so confusing. I also haven't really wanted to see Delilah, but at the same
time, I want to. Like I said, it's confusing.

When I was at her house, wrapped up in her blanket, I panicked. I don't know if
it was because we were so close, or because I could smell her perfume, which reminded
me of Delia even though it smelled nothing like Delia, or if it was just everything.
I feel like I'm getting too attached. That's what always happens, and then something
goes wrong.

I'm afraid of losing something, or someone, that means a lot to me again. I don't
like how I'm becoming so close to Delilah; it scares me. So I had a small anxiety
attack on the couch once I started thinking about Delilah, and Delia, and the voice
mail and everything else that's happening. It all hit me at once, and I freaked
out.

I've been avoiding her ever since. I feel bad that I always react that way when something
happens, but it's just what I do. It's who I am.

Thankfully, Delilah isn't working when I go to my appointment with Candace. I don't
know what I would have done if she was there. She makes me feel so many things all
at once.

I
hate
it.

Candace is her usual chirpy self. I'm my usual depressed self.

“How are you today, Levi?” Candace asks.

That's when I break.

I tell her everything. Well, I write it on the whiteboard. It takes a really long
time. I tell her how I listened to the voice mail and how I'm feeling about Delilah.
I've been opening up a little more every visit. I think it's because I've been taking
my pills continuously now. They've been making me do things that are so unlike me.

Or maybe I'm changing, I don't know.

Before I know it, I'm crying as usual. I blame the pills for crying so much too.

Candace always comforts me when I cry like this, and I find it extremely awkward.
I don't even know why I cry half the time. It just happens. I'm constantly overcome
with emotions. That's another thing I hate too. Whenever I cry, I try to stop myself.
I end up breathing weirdly and getting the hiccups—it's awful.

Candace tells me that she's happy I listened to the voice mail. She asks if I've
listened to it more than once, and I have.

I've listened to it every day, hoping to figure things out. I think it's just making
things worse, though.

Candace says that probably isn't helping my situation. She says I need to live in
the present, and try to not let the past hurt so much.

But the past is hurting me while making me happy too. Just like the present is.

“Levi,” Candace says, once I'm done crying. I wipe my wet cheeks and look at her.

She gets up and hands me a small notepad. “I want you to make a list of things that
make you happy. Keep this with you all week. When you find something that makes you
happy, or smile or laugh, write it down. Bring it with you when you come next week,
and we'll go through it. Does that sound like something you can do?”

I nod and take the notepad from her, sticking it in my pocket.

“Being happy isn't a bad thing, I promise.”

I shrug and grab a tissue from the table.

“Now that you're becoming more open with things, I think it's time that you try a
support group again too,” she says, smiling kindly.

I shake my head quickly. She always tries to get me to go to a support group, but
I refuse.

She sighs lightly. “I really think it would help. What about just one person?”

I shrug. One person would be better than a lot. If I have to, I guess.

“There's a new patient, Mitchell. You two have some similarities. I think you could
really help each other.”

I rest my head in my hand and sniff a little.

“Only if you want to, of course. I help him as well. I think he's here for speech
therapy tonight,” Candace says, standing up from her seat. She looks through a calendar
and sits back down. “Actually, he's here right now. I think you two should meet.
Want me to go get him?”

If I had my choice, I'd say no. I think I nod, though. Which is weird because my
mind is saying no, but I'm nodding. I stop nodding, and I am feeling a bit confused
as to what I just did. I roll my eyes at my stupidity.

Candace smiles and heads out to the waiting room. She comes back after a few minutes
with whom I assume is Mitchell. He stands shyly behind Candace, looking down at his
feet.

He's not what I expected at all. He has purple hair and a band shirt on. But he's
wearing black jeans and Converse, so I guess he's okay. At least he dresses better
than Aiden.

“Levi, this is Mitchell. Mitchell, that's Levi,” Candace says, introducing us. I
wave, and Mitchell waves back. He takes a small step forward.

I quickly rub my eyes, hoping it's not noticeable that I've been crying.

“You can sit right there,” Candace tells Mitchell. He slowly sits across from me
and avoids making eye contact. “Pretend I'm not here,” Candace says, sitting in her
chair.

I'm wondering if he doesn't talk either. Because how are we supposed to get anything
accomplished if neither of us talk? Yes, two mutes sitting silently, having a wonderful
time passing notes to one another. I'm dreading this already.

“Go ahead, Mitchell. Do what we've practiced,” Candace whispers. Mitchell looks from
Candace to me and hesitantly opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“H-Hi, I'm—I'm Mitchell,” he finally says quietly. He blushes, then looks down and
nervously bites his nails.

“Good, Mitchell, good job,” Candace whispers happily.

I type into my phone, “Nice to meet you.”

He smiles a little.

I type more into my phone. “My friend Caleb likes Green Day too. It's his favorite
band.” I point to his shirt, which has Green Day on it.

“Th-That's c-cool,” Mitchell says, smiling for real this time.

I nod and type more. “I like their song ‘Carpe Diem,' but that's it. I'm not really
into music. Green Day I can tolerate, sometimes.”

Mitchell laughs nervously and plays with the hem of his shirt. “I-I like a-all their
s-songs.”

We sit awkwardly, not knowing what else to say.

“Levi, tell him where you're from,” Candace whispers to me, obviously trying to help
the conversation.

“I'm from Australia,” I type.

“Th-That's c-cool.”

Mitchell says
cool
a lot.

I shrug. “I was kinda in the middle of nowhere, but yeah, I guess.”