My heart starts to thunder. He’s talking about his sister. He saw her lose herself. And maybe he did a little, too.
Then, another grin. “Or maybe I just like to show off. You know, my mad guitar-playing skills.” Christian nods toward the chair. “Come in. Sit down and listen to me play.”
His eyes leave me, his head facing down as he concentrates on what he’s doing. Christian’s dark hair falls forward, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. Nothing does. He’s so deep in concentration, I wonder if he remembers I’m here.
I take one step in. Then another and another until finally I’m sitting in the chair at my pottery wheel for the first time since Mom died.
…
I lie in bed, remembering what it felt like to sit in my pottery room tonight. I didn’t touch the wheel once, but still, I was there. That has to count for something. I’m trying to fight and claw my way back to normal little by little.
I think Mom would be proud about that.
I let Christian pop into my head. His hair in his face and his fingers dancing on the strings the way mine used to do in clay. How even though it felt awesome to just sit and be with someone, I know to the marrow of my bones that it wasn’t just him that got me in that room. Yes, he was a part of it because something about him is calming and normal, in my world that feels both ever-changing and also completely stagnant. But I’m not sure Christian’s hand lit the match.
It was his, and maybe Emery’s, Brenda’s, and…
In a way, I think it was mine. Mine because I took the step to let him in. Or maybe I’m being crazy, trying to look for something that isn’t there. Some part of me I never realized still needed someone the way I obviously thought I needed Jason.
Rolling over, I let my eyes find the red numbers of my clock. I stare at them until they start to blur. It’s a little after 4:00 a.m.
Riding my new burst of courage, I sneak out of bed, downstairs, and out back. My heart drops when the porch on Christian’s side of the fence is empty. It only takes a few seconds of my standing there and wondering what I’m doing before I hear a door opening quietly. Brenda steps on the porch, pulling out her secret cigarette.
A heavy breath finds its way from my lungs. I don’t know why I need to talk to her so badly, but I do.
She walks toward the fence, and I do the same.
“Couldn’t sleep. I felt like a little fresh air.” Which isn’t the truth at all. I came out here looking for her because I want her to tell me what to do. To help me figure out all the mishmashed thoughts in my head. The most important being, am I ready to try to move forward? To try to come out of the shell I’ve built around myself? To light not only my love of pottery, but also the flame of my whole life?
It’s a scary, scary thought, and honestly, I’m not even sure what that would entail, or if it’s possible, or where all these thoughts are suddenly coming from, but for once I don’t feel like screaming, and I want to hold on to that.
“And I’m ruining it with my smoke.”
“You should quit,” tumbles out of my mouth. The light from my porch makes it so I can see her expression, and there’s no annoyance at my statement.
She doesn’t reply, though. “So, my son says he was over with you this evening? I hope he made up for sleeping through breakfast.”
“Umm, yeah. I saw a mouse and screamed and he came over to check on me. Then he just played his guitar while I worked on my pottery.”
Brenda laughs softly. “I’m glad to see you guys are spending time together.”
“We’re not! Spending time together, I mean.” We’re not. I’m not spending time with any guys that way. Never again. “We’re just friends. I mean, we’re not even friends.” Her frown makes me reword. “I mean, we’re kind of friends, but…” I really, really need to shut up.
“Relax. I didn’t mean anything by my comment. Whether you’re friends or not, that’s okay, but if I can be honest with you for a second, mija…and I don’t say this to hurt you, but I think you could use a friend. Christian, too.”
“Why?” I blurt out. “What’s wrong with Christian?”
She sighs and then takes a pull on her cigarette. “Nothing, really. Let’s just say he can be stubborn.”
And then my thoughts of Christian are eclipsed by what she said about me, about my needing a friend, too, and it’s true. So true, but still I find myself asking, “What’s wrong with me?”
She shakes her head. It’s such a Mom thing to do. It says she’s hurting for me, that she knows more than I realize.
“Nothing is wrong with you.” Her voice cracks slightly. “You know, and I might be fully off base with anything I say, so if I am— Actually, no, I’m not. I’m a mama and we know everything.” For a second, clouds cover her eyes. “I know it can be scary to move forward sometimes, mija. Leaving my husband? That was the scariest thing I’d ever done, but I knew I didn’t belong with him. And I knew a lot of people weren’t going to understand. Hell, I didn’t even understand everything I was feeling, but I did it. Whatever it is you’re working through, you can do it too, okay?”
For the first time, I think I really want to try.
Brenda pushes her cigarette into her soda can, and then back in her robe pocket it goes. “One last thing, mija. It was worth all the pain and anger. I’m not saying I don’t have regrets, but I’m also saying it was worth it.” She gives me a confident nod. “Now, I need to go hide my can and sneak back inside before Sally or Christian catches me.” She walks back to the porch, climbs the stairs, and disappears.
I can’t stop thinking about what Brenda said. Her words float around in my head like little thought bubbles all through my shower, getting dressed, eating breakfast. What she did was huge. And if she could do it, maybe I can, too. I’m tired of not fighting for anything.
Of not living…
I’m not sure how much I can do, but I miss friends. I miss having someone to talk to, and if Christian is willing to look at me without those same condemning glasses everyone else wears, I’m going to hold on to that.
Brenda was right. I need a friend.
As I drive to school, I can’t believe I’m going this crazy over something as simple as talking to Christian. But then, this is different. It isn’t just talking to someone. It’s me trying to move forward—whatever that really means.
…
I don’t pay attention to anyone while I weave and dodge people in the hallways. Our school really needs an upgrade. We’re still small, but the number of students continues to grow and the walls and classroom sizes don’t.
While at my locker, I look around for my old friends, for Christian so I can try to talk to him. Of course, since I’m ready to actually do something, there’s no one in sight.
By the time lunch rolls around, Brenda’s words have been traveling the maze in my mind all day, pushing their way to the front. I’m doing this. I’m taking my life back.
I make a quick stop by my locker and grab my lunch, then head in the direction I know Christian and my old group will be. Nerves tickle my insides, but it’s not just nerves. It’s excitement, too. Eagerness because I set myself on a path, and I’m going to see my way through it.
Just then, they round the corner. Christian is in the middle of them, the two couples on either side and Ian on the very end, by Diana. My feet move quicker as I walk toward them. If I talk to Christian and start being friendlier—if they think I’m turning back into the old Brynn—will Diana and Ellie want to be friends again?
Ellie’s eyes catch mine, and I swear I see something in them. Something that mirrors how I imagine I look at her, with sadness and nostalgia, but then she glances over at her boyfriend, like I’m not here.
I don’t let it bother me because I’m trying to be friends with Christian right now. Trying to show him I appreciate him and that I’m sorry I can’t get my crap together.
My eyes land on him.
His land back on me.
The group is almost right next to me by now, walking in the opposite direction. Once they’re right across from me, I open my mouth to say hello. Christian nods at me as if to say hi but just keeps walking, still talking with my friends, passing me, like I don’t matter at all.
…
I’m sitting on my porch swing when I hear a car pull in the driveway next door. I keep my back to the house, hoping if I do, they’ll just disappear.
“Hola, Brynn!” Brenda calls from next door. It’s not her fault her son is a jerk, so I figure I don’t have an excuse not to reply to her.
“Hey.” I glance over my shoulder and give her a quick wave. Christian is next to her, with what looks like a bag of groceries in his hand. I hear them talking but can’t make out the words. I’m about to stand up and go inside when I hear someone jogging toward me.
“Mom wanted me to invite you to dinner. I’m pretty sure you’re her new best friend.” Crossing his arms, Christian leans against my house, like this is any other day. Maybe to him it is any day and maybe it should be to me, too, but I can’t help it—I’m hurt. And I’m so tired of hurting, so tired of pain fighting to pull me under.
“No, thanks.” I push to my feet and try to walk by him, but Christian reaches out and grabs my hand, stopping me.
“What’s the problem?” He lets go and my hand drops back to my side, tingling and warm.
“Nothing. I thought… You know what? Never mind.”
He reaches for me again, but I pull away this time. Christian is faster than me, though, and moves over so he’s standing in my front door.
“Move,” I tell him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Make me.” His lips quirk up in a smile.
“Ugh! How are you like this? How do you let everything just roll off your shoulders? Why are you always happy?”
“Please, I’m not always happy. I think you got a little taste of that at the center a while back.”
“Yeah, but it was one time. Once isn’t a big deal. I had to work up the courage all day to try to talk to you. I know it’s stupid. It’s not like we haven’t talked before, but this was me initiating it. Me risking myself, but you just kept walking.”
Slowly, his lips move. He’s not smiling any longer, the sides of his mouth tilted down. “What are you talking about?”
I throw up my arms. “Today! At lunch. I tried to say hi and you just kept walking like I wasn’t even there. I mean, I know everyone else ignores me ever since Jason, but you…” And now I’m fighting myself not to turn away. I want nothing more than to lock myself in my house and never go out again.
“Jason, that’s him, huh? I’ve heard stories about him.”
“Yeah, it’s him. He hurt me and I haven’t been the same since, but I was trying. I tried today and you ignored me.” I know I’m overreacting, but it’s how I feel. I’m tired of holding my feelings in. If I wasn’t, I know I never would have said any of this to Christian.
He sighs. “I might be good, but I’m not a mind reader. How in the hell was I supposed to know you were going to talk to me? Every time I try to talk to you in public, you run away. Last time we talked at school, you made it pretty damn obvious you wanted nothing to do with me there. I was just following your lead, Brynn.”
And he’s right. “I know, but today. I wanted to talk to you today.”
“So that means I should automatically fall in line with what you want? I’m not trying to be a jerk here, but you’re the one who’s been hot and cold with me. I wasn’t planning on chasing around after you, waiting for you to decide I’m worthy. I don’t work that way. And I’m not perfect. I never could have known what you wanted today unless you told me.”