Chapter Two
Alyx observed Daria’sbedroom with a frown. It was the same room she had visited over the years. Same lavender-colored ceiling, same Japanese-styled shutters, same artwork-turned-wallpaper covering the walls, but with one notable difference: the room was explicitly neat and clutter-free. No pens and nibs on Daria’s drawing table, no magazines left lying on the carpeted floor, no coats tossed over the mirror.
Alyx’s gaze returned to the owner of the room. She was curled up in bed reading, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she flipped to the next page. Her hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in ages, her eyes looked puffy with tiredness, and her body was thin to the point of frailness.
She glanced at Yanna, who stood quietly next to Daria’s drawing table. This is not the Daria I know.
A miserable expression flitted over Yanna’s face. I know.
Alyx looked back at Daria. She squinted at the book her friend was reading, grimacing when she realized what was written on the cover.
It’s Okay to Be Pathetic After a Breakup.
Her eyes widened. What the hell? She stalked towards the bed. “Time’s up, Daria.” She glared down at her friend, but Daria didn’t even seem to hear her, and Alyx’s resolve strengthened. “I never thought I’d say this,” she muttered. “But you have got to stop reading.” She snatched the book out of her friend’s hands.
Shocked at suddenly finding herself bereft of words of wisdom about handling a breakup, Daria looked up, and her confusion deepened at seeing Alyx. “A-Alyx?” Then she saw Yanna, and she rubbed her eyes. “Yanna?” When had they arrived? And why were they here?
“Were we supposed to meet today?” She glanced at her calendar – or at least where her calendar was supposed be. It was gone now. She had dumped it in the trash the moment she had returned home. Calendars didn’t remind her of time now. Every time she looked at one, she only remembered Nik’s jeering words about them.
A lost look suddenly entered Daria’s gray eyes, and seeing it made Yanna’s throat constrict. “Oh, Daria,” she sighed sadly.
Daria’s eyes started to sting at Yanna’s tone. You can’t cry, she warned herself. You shouldn’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry.
She felt the bed dip, and she looked up to realize that both Alyx and Yanna had come close, sitting on opposite edges of the bed, identical looks of sadness on their faces.
Her eyes stung more painfully, and she had to drag a deep, shaky breath to control herself. To punish herself.
“Dar...you know this can’t continue, right?” Yanna asked quietly.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.
“Of course you do,” Alyx snapped. “Look around you. When was the last time you drew? When was the last time you left this room, or took a shower—-”
“I don’t stink—-”
“That’s not the point,” Alyx burst out, “and you know it!” She threw her hands up in frustration. “You can’t spend the whole time reading stupid books like this!” She waved Daria’s book in her friend’s face. “You know it’s crap, right?”
“It’s not crap,” Daria began.
“But Daria, it says it’s okay to be pathetic,” Yanna interrupted with a troubled frown. “I don’t think that’s a good thing.”
“And take this...” Alyx had the book open to the last page. “Her author bio states she’s never experienced a breakup, that she’s been married since forever.” She scowled at Daria. “Why would you take advice from someone like her?”
“Because she knows how to prevent one—-”
“Yes, prevent one, but that’s not what you need to do, is it?” Alyx’s arms crossed over her chest. “What you need is to learn how to move on past your breakup.”
Daria found herself unable to meet Alyx’s gaze. She looked down. Her hands, resting over the covers, were clenched into fists, and she realized belatedly that she had been trembling the entire time she and Alyx were talking.
“Isn’t it, Daria?” Alyx insisted.
No, she thought.
She didn’t want to move on—-
“Daria.” Yanna’s soft voice made Daria bite her lip hard and again, the urge to weep tempted her to just break down and let it all out.
Don’t cry. You can’t cry. You mustn’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry.