Page 45 of Another Day (Every Day 2)

“It’s her own life. Not anyone else’s.”

“But it’s still killing.”

“If she really wants to do it, there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

If A weren’t in someone else’s body, I might try to slap some sense into her, this logic is so damaged. You can’t cry for help, then claim to be a bystander.

“Okay,” she says before I can go on, “putting up obstacles can help. Getting other people involved can help. Getting her to the proper doctors can help.”

“Just like if she had cancer, or were bleeding in the street.”

I see it’s all sinking in. It’s still amazing to me that she’s never had to deal with this before.

“So who do I tell?” she asks.

“A guidance counselor, maybe?” I offer.

She looks at the clock. “School’s closed. And we only have until midnight, remember.”

“Who’s her best friend?” I ask.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s what A confirms—there’s no one.

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” I try.

“No.”

“A suicide hotline?”

“If we call one, they’d only be giving me advice, not her. We have no way of knowing if she’ll remember it tomorrow, or if it will have any effect. Believe me, I’ve thought about these options.”

“So it has to be her father. Right?”

“I think he checked out a while ago.”

I’ve always felt like the expert on checked-out parents. What’s interesting is that now I discover another truth underneath: Even if they seem that far gone, they’re rarely all the way gone. If they were already gone, they would’ve left.

“Well,” I say, “you need to get him to check back in.”

Because that has to be possible. Maybe not easy. But possible.

“What do I say?” A asks.

“You say, ‘Dad, I want to kill myself.’ Just come right out and say it.”

That would wake my parents up. I know it would.

“And if he asks me why?”

“You tell him you don’t know why. Don’t commit to anything. She’ll have to work that out starting tomorrow.”

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“It was a busy drive over,” I tell her, even though the truth is that most of it is just appearing to me now.

“What if he doesn’t care? What if he doesn’t believe her?”

“Then you grab his keys and drive to the nearest hospital. Bring the journal with you.”