How to help a friend when you suspect she has a problem
- Talk to her about it. If you ask and she doesn't respond, don't ask again. She might come around.
- Let her know you're there for her.
- If she still doesn't open up, give her space and time.
Weekends were times when Bella kicked up her heelsâsometimes literally (when playing dramatic dress up)âand they had always been that. Until she had to spend the entire morning of her Saturday staring at the Google icon on her phone. Apparently, the Internet didn't have the solution to all problems.
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, then went to sit on one of the stools by the breakfast bar. She went to Google again, then searched for various ways to help a friend with a problem.
Viola had been disturbingly quiet throughout that week; since she got that text from her mom on Monday during lunch. She hardly smiled, spoke or designedâwhich was a big problem, because Viola always designed.
Bella would've thought it was because of what she said in the car that Monday, if she didn't know better. She had been thinking, and decided on Friday, that she would steal Viola's phone. The problem was in the text she got, right? So that was the easiest option. But, it was from her mom, and stealing her phone so she could check the text would be a big invasion of privacy.
She sighed when she got the same results as the last five times she tried. The Internet could be so frustrating sometimes.
"I thought you went to the gym," her mom said, walking in.
She looked at her for a brief second, then returned her attention to her phone. "No. I can't concentrate right now."
"Really? What's wrong?"
Forget Google. She needed practical help. She sighed, then put her phone off. "It's... Viola."
"Is she okay?"
"I'm not sure. I mean, she was fine on Monday before she got a text from her mom."
"Oh? Did you try talking to her?"
"Of course. I even feel like wringing an explanation out of her, but Google tells me not to push it."
"Yeah. You really shouldn't. Maybe it's personal."
Bella put her phone down. "I thought about that, but come on. Vi and I tell each other everything."
"All best friends say that. There are some things that are just too personal, you can't tell anyoneânot even your best friend."
She unscrewed the cap of her water bottle, and her mom walked to the refrigerator. "But doesn't that mean you don't trust them well enough?"
"Mm, it could mean that. But some people just find it hard saying some things out loud." She took some things out of the fridge and placed them on the countertop.
"Yeah. That's actually Viola. But it's affecting Fashionellaâseriously! I mean, I'm losing my motivation because of all this. You know how badly I want Michelle Henshaw to notice me. Teen Stars is as important to me as college is to Cody right now."
Her mom gave a small laugh. "I don't get it. Is this about Viola or you?"
"It's about the both of us, Mom."
She grabbed various jars of jam, then shut the fridge and placed them down. "Well, I think you shouldn't worry so much. Viola'll tell you everything when she's ready. I'm sure."
"And Fashionella?"
"Fashionella's doing fine. How many subscribers do you have now?"
"A million."
"See? It's doing great!"
"But I have to keep increasing. Michelle will never notice me if I don't."
"You know what," her mom said, "I think you need to go to the gym."
Her mom was right. Gyming helped her get her mind off things. And she was almost positive she really needed it after all those cupcakes. She didn't argue, only went back to her room to change.
She put on a pair of sweatpants, a sports bra, threw a pink shirt over it, then got into a matching pair of sneakers. After throwing a few things into her gym bag, she began the walk to her favorite gym.
It smelled the same: perspiration, with a hint of air freshener and cologneâa hundred different types of cologne.
She let the door close behind her, before making her way to the treadmill. A few people were around, taking various parts of the gym, and a big, burly man was helping a lady do sit ups. When she got to the treadmill, she was shocked to see someone on itâpeople hardly went to that one, that was why she chose itâand she knew that someone.
He looked so engrossed. Was she supposed to say something? At the thought of starting a conversation with him, her feet went cold.
He must have seen her in his peripheral vision, because he finally looked at her, and when their eyes met, a surprised look went over his face.
"Hey, you." Beau Algernon got off the treadmill, sweaty, and gave her a smile. Bella wasn't a fan of sweaty boys, but, surprisingly, she didn't feel repelled today.
"Hey. Um, I didn't know you come here." She didn't want to smile back, but she had disobedient lips.
"I just started coming recently." He took a towel from the weight-lifting bench beside him and used it to clean the sweat off his face. "This is my first time seeing you."
"Yeah. I haven't been here in a while."
He started drying his hair. "Didn't know you gym."
"Sometimes."
It was weird talking to him after all those winks and occasional blushing. He watched her for a moment, wiping his hair, and after a while, widened his smile.
"What?" she asked. Was something on her face?
"You're just standing there. I thought you wanted to use the treadmill."
Oh! Well, not anymore. "Uh... actually, I have no idea why I'm really here. My mom just suggested it and boom!" Yeah, she knew it was a lie. She knew exactly why she was there, just didn't want to work out when he was standing there, looking glorious.
"So you came in here with those eyes just to distract me?"
Heat bubbled in her chest immediately. Oh God! Distract him? Her? "Distract you? No. I didn't even know you were going to be here."
"True, but that doesn't change anything. Let me help you with that." He stretched an arm towards the bag in her hand, and she handed it over.
"Thanks."
"No problem." He gently set the bag down by the bench, then kept his towel. "So, since you're not working out, what do we do?"
Did he say we?
"I don't know. Sit, maybe."
He laughed. "First time I'm hearing someone came to the gym just to sit." He sat on the bench, straddling it, after which he patted the spot next to him.
There was a warm sensation in her chest as she walked over. And there she was only minutes ago, thinking she would have a boring Saturday.
"I see you're a fan of my work," he said immediately she sat.
"Yeah. I wanted to see who managed to calm our zoo of a cafeteria."
"Honestly, I had no idea they'd pay any attention to me. I wasn't expecting that."
"I guess you're famous now." She smiled.
"Speaking of famous, I heard you have a YouTube channel."
"Yeah. Fashionella."
"Cute. So you do make-up tutorials?"
"Mm... not really. Mostly, I give tips, do mathâ"
"Math?"
"Don't mean to brag, but I'm kind of a math whiz."
His eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's a talent. When I was twelve, I used to help Cody with homework."
"You do calculus too?"
"Yeah."
His eyes danced for a while, then he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off.
"Don't ask me if I can help you, 'cause I won't."
He let out a musical laugh. "How'd you know? I don't really need help, though. My math is not that bad."
"Teensy bad then?"
"Are you sure you don't want to help me? You seem concerned."
"I am concerned, 'cause it's mathâmath is important. But I won't help."
"And why not?" he asked in a low voice.
"I distract you, remember?"
She couldn't believe she said that, but couldn't exactly take it back either, so she smiled and looked down at her polished nails.
"Smart," he said. "I like it."
One topic led to another and another and another, until Beau became the second person to go to the gym just to sit. They weirdly enjoyed each other's company, and, at one point, Bella found herself telling him about how she badly wanted to be enrolled in Michelle Henshaw's Teen Stars Program. The thing was truthfully like college to her. It was her primary aim. If Michelle noticed her before senior year, she would even be glad to drop out of school.
Time flew so fast, she didn't realize how long she had been there, until she got a text from her mom, asking why she wasn't home yet.
"You know you're crazy, right?" she asked as they headed outside to his car.
"Why do you say so?"
"You kept me company, and now you want to drive me home."
"So?"
"You didn't workout anymore. We probably looked like idiots sitting there."
"I don't mind. You were awesome company."
They got into the car and he started it. The interior smelled just like him. The first few minutes of the drive was quiet, and it was when he was almost at her place that she spoke.
"So... thanks for dropping me off. I'm surprised you know where I live."
"I've been over once."
"You have?" She turned to him in surprise. When was that?
"Yeah. I know your brother."
"Oh, and let me guess, I wasn't home."
"You didn't seem to be. If you were, I'm sure I would've seen you around."
She was mentally glad she wasn't home, because Cody would've gone Big Brother on him, thereby embarrassing her.
Beau's car stopped in front of her place, and she reached for her gym bag in the backseat. "Thanks again."
"You're welcome. And you should definitely go for that Teen Stars thing. It's cool."
She smiled. "I will, thanks."
"Give the application a shot, though. Don't wait for her to just notice you. Make a move."
"What if she doesn't see it? She should have a billion other emails she hasn't read yet."
"Possibly. But yours is business-related. She'd see it eventually."
She felt motivated to finally make a move on Teen Stars instead of just waiting. Michelle Henshaw was a busy woman, and she probably didn't have time to watch YouTube videos.
"Thanks. In fact, I'll send it tonight."
He smiled back. "I'm glad you will. I'll see you on Monday?"
"Sure. Bye." She got out of the car.
"Bye."
She started the walk to her front door and heard him drive away behind her. It was like he had a different way of talking, because Viola had suggested the same thing to her, but she wasn't convinced enough. And that was several times. Beau just tried once.
She put her phone on and saw her lock screen, which was devoid of notifications. Viola still hadn't called or texted.
"Hey, honey," her mom said from the sofa when she walked in.
"Hey, Mom."
"So? Got your mind off it?"
"Yeah. But immediately I stepped on the lawn, it came rushing back."
Her mom put the TV remote in her hand down. "Don't worry. It'll get better."
"I hope so." She really did, but in the mean time, she had an email to send. "I'm going upstairs to work on my email to Michelle Henshaw."
Her mom sighed. "Hallelujah! Finally!"