Page 52 of The Chemistry Test

‘And what I really want you to know,’ I say, catching myself for the second time, ‘is that even if no one else does, I believe you and I believe in you. Whoever you are and whatever you’re going through, I believe you .

’ I nod at the audience in the slow, self-assured way that CJ’s nodding at me.

Keeping his pace to the exact millisecond.

‘And I’m rooting for you,’ I say, throwing out a life jacket to him, and to anyone else who needs one.

‘Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning in plain sight.

And maybe there’s no quick fix, cover up or nice outfit that can save you, but maybe a life jacket can.

And maybe this will be yours. No matter your circumstances, how you appear to others, or who you are. ’

In my peripheral vision, CJ’s beaming, the wattage on his infectious grin dialled right up. ‘If the last few months have taught me anything, they’ve taught me that.’

In the front few rows, quite a few people have red eyes now, so I keep going in case this is the only time they’re going to hear something like this.

‘So, no matter how many people have told you otherwise, know that I believe you,’ I say. ‘And I never want you to doubt yourself either. You know yourself best and you know when something’s wrong, even if doctors can’t give it a name.’ I exhale steadily to calm myself down.

‘And lastly, I want you to know that there is hope, even if you can’t see it. Things can get better, even if you don’t know how or when. And even if only a little bit. Keep hanging in there,’ I say, and as the applause starts to erupt, I take a bow. I did it.

I make it through four talks before I start flagging.

And it’s not like I can really relate to any of them either, so I don’t see the point in pushing myself even further.

Everyone else’s talks are definitely more about health rather than illness, but not in a way that applies to me.

Including Elias’s, which discusses how healthy we’d all be if we came off social media more.

But it’s not true for me. Social media is my lifeline on my worst days – when I can’t otherwise be a part of the world.

It’s not doomscrolling for me, it’s hopescrolling .

It’s feel-less-alone-scrolling. And it’s my-key-to-the-outside-world-and-everyone-I-love-scrolling .

As it is, or at least was, for many people, before they were shamed out of it.

He continues with a similar spiel about that awful phrase ‘rotting in bed’ which personally makes my skin crawl.

Because when is it rotting and when is it resting ? Recuperating. Recovering, even.

I don’t know exactly where you’d draw the line, but what I do know is that his food for thought isn’t necessarily healthier than mine. Because it’s not just diets that aren’t one-size-fits-all – if you think about it, it’s pretty much everything. Including this.

I decide to leave in the short interval before the next speaker before I risk getting too unwell to get myself home.

I thank everyone and push myself through the first set of double doors and into the main entrance.

It’s much colder out here, so I reach into the bag under my chair for my scarf before heading towards the automatic doors.

And there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the wall, is CJ. He’s looking right at me, but his phone is still alight in his hands. He must’ve looked up from it when he heard my wheelchair.

‘You came.’

‘Of course I did, I scouted you.’ He smiles, making me think back to that Genetics lesson. But I’m not smiling. Looking at him literally makes my chest hurt.

‘I’m so sorry, Penny. I overreacted,’ he says, stepping closer.

‘It’s alright,’ I say, and I mean it.

‘It’s not alright, but I can explain,’ he says. ‘I only planned to give myself a few days to cool off about the whole anonymity thing, but then I saw you with Elias the night your wheelchair broke, and I thought—’

‘CJ, don’t,’ I say. I need him to stop. Because I’ve already forgiven him. I don’t think I even needed an apology, as stupid as that sounds. I might not have known the reason he did what he did, but I knew he had one. Everyone has a reason for the things they do.

‘I want to give us a go,’ he blurts finally. ‘If you do.’

And my heart plummets. Because this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

Of course I want to give it a go. Heck, I was even ready to suggest it myself the morning the blog notification uprooted everything.

But how can we, when I can’t even get through a three-hour conference?

The fact he’s been sitting here waiting for me tells me he knows that.

He knew I wouldn’t make it through the whole thing.

And now that I’ve seen how much he misses out on when we’re together, I won’t let it happen again.

He’s a morning-running, hiking-loving, famous actor.

And I’m a girl who struggles to get out of bed.

Who, for the most part, has learned to be okay with that.

There’s plenty of stuff I can do there – my blog and my Instagram are a testament to that. But CJ isn’t into that sort of thing.

As much as I don’t want them to be, our lives couldn’t be farther apart. And I know if I tell him, he’ll say I don’t get to choose what he can and can’t handle. Who he can and can’t love. But the truth is, I think CJ is one of the best people out there. And I genuinely want the best for him.

But my broken body doesn’t allow me to be my best self. Or the best of anything, really. So, I rip the plaster off. ‘I’ll never forget anything you said to me, and I hope you’ll remember some of what I said to you too, but I think this is it for us, CJ.’

‘Penny.’ He tries to take my hand, but I pull my arm away, curling it further into my lap.

‘It just doesn’t feel right,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry.’

I’m shocked at how easily the words came out, but I’m so glad they did. I want him to have a chance to find something great with someone else. And he’ll never know that me lying to him like this is the kindest thing I’ve ever done.