Without another word—without even looking back at me—Christian walks through the door, closing it behind him.
For the second time today, I’m left stunned. Unsure of what happened, and unsure of where to go from here. Lost and alone, just like before.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Now
The next couple days before Christmas break are torture. They’re even worse than those first days at school at the beginning of the year. Not because no one says hi to me—people do. Ellie and Diana still don’t talk to me, but to everyone else, I’m old news. The whole situation is in the past. Something they’re starting to forget, but I can’t let myself enjoy it. I’m trapped in a bubble, alone where no one can reach me. That’s exactly how I feel. I miss Christian. I miss his laugh and his jokes and his guitar and gummy bears.
I miss my friend.
And I also miss the feeling of his eyes on me. The bubble in my stomach and the warmth that spreads across my skin when he touches me. Which means I was falling for him. Falling for another boy when I swore I never would again. That knowledge should make me ecstatic that we’re not talking, glad I dodged the bullet, because Emery was right—they are all nice in the beginning. But it doesn’t. It leaves me feeling even more alone. Like the bubble got thicker, or maybe like it’s made of some kind of bulletproof glass that protects me against feelings and friendship.
Why? Because it’s safer to pull away.
But safer doesn’t feel very good anymore.
Emery weighs on my mind. I sit in the center every day after school waiting for her to show up. Waiting for an answer to come to me about what to do. To tell or not to tell?
God, I miss Mom. She would know what to do. She would help Emery, but she’s gone and I’m alone. Obviously I’m not good at fixing much of anything.
Maybe Dad could be here… Maybe Christian would have been, too…
Going to another dance is a betrayal to Mom, though.
I’m drowning in my loneliness again. In this dark room that I can’t find my way out of, all the air getting sucked out around me.
Emery responds to my texts, but they’re just short, clipped answers that she’s fine. Spending time at home and hasn’t felt like coming to the center. I have a feeling she means she hasn’t felt like being around me. I’m the one who pushed her when for all these months, I haven’t wanted anyone to push me.
Irony sucks.
…
“You were quiet at Nona’s yesterday.” It’s the day after Christmas. We always spend Christmas with Dad’s mom. We have for my whole life. We’ll have sauce and she’ll laugh her loud laugh and talk about the good old days growing up in New York.
I used to love it. Yesterday, I didn’t let myself. Surprise, surprise. I’m seeing a pattern here. “Yeah.”
“Brynn.” Dad leans against the couch where I’m sitting, pretending to watch TV. “Did something happen? Christian hasn’t been around.”
It’s strange hearing that come out of Dad’s mouth. Before he didn’t want Christian here, wanted me to avoid any guy as if they were the plague (or Jason), but now he’s concerned because Christian hasn’t been around? “They’re gone for the holiday.” Which means I don’t even have Brenda—not that I’d feel right going to Christian’s mom after everything.
“Before that…”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You can—you can talk to me, you know.”
It’s what I’ve wanted. What I’ve been begging for from him for so long, yet I can’t make myself say it. Don’t know what to even tell him. God, I’m tired of being so weak, but I have no idea how to change it. There should come a point where realizing something is the key—where it’s all that matters and once you catch on to something, it all gets better. Instead I’m sitting here with this knowledge and can’t force myself to figure out what to do about it. “I’m fine.” I push to my feet.
“Brynn—”
“We have breaking news!” A reporter on the TV interrupts the show I wasn’t really watching and catches my attention. “We’re at the scene of a major accident that happened earlier today on Highway 301. Reports have come in that local baseball star Jason Richter was driving the vehicle at high speeds when it went off the road and hit a tree.”
Major accident. Jason Richter, Jason Richter, Jason Richter.
I never would have noticed that name before, but now it’s engraved into my memory. Accident. Jason’s been in an accident.
My dreams flare up in my mind, making me dizzy, and my legs go weak under me. I collapse, but Dad’s arms wrap around me, catching me. I’m not sure why this is hitting me so hard, but there’s this loud fuzz in my ears that’s only broken by the reporter.
The image of Jason that last time I saw him hits me. His mint and cigarettes when he stepped close.
“According to police, the vehicle was traveling at high speeds when it lost control on one of the curves. There was a female passenger in the vehicle with him, but due to her being a minor, no name has been released yet. Both occupants of the car were dead at the scene.”
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
They’re both dead. Jason is dead. A girl is dead. Due to her being a minor…
Another girl, just like me.
The fuzz takes over again. I don’t hear anything else. Just my pulse mixing with the noise and throbbing in my head. The cries ripping out of me with so much strength, they tear me apart. A girl I didn’t know has died with Jason. He could have lied to her like he did me. Maybe she thought she loved him and he loved her. Maybe she just trusted Jason like he always told me to do. The way I did. And now because of that, she’s dead.
“Shh. It’s okay, dolcezza. I have you. I’m here. I have you.” Dad repeats the words over and over as the tears keep coming. I’m holding him so tight, my nails dig into his skin, but he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t do anything but comfort me. Tell me he loves me and that everything is going to be all right. A weird thought pops into my head and I try to remember if I hugged him like this when Mom died. If I cried this much and let him hold me and tried to hold him, too.
“She died… She’s dead.” I don’t know if I’m talking about Mom or the girl. Both, I think. A wreck flashes behind my eyes but I see me. See blood on my face as Jason’s in the car. But it’s really her. Another girl, but I can’t see her because I don’t know who she is.
I cry until I can’t cry anymore. Until my eyes hurt from all the tears. The living room is dark, night having come, but Dad hasn’t pulled away, not even to turn a light on. The TV is going in the background, making flashes of color dance on the walls. I manage to tune out the sound, try to focus on the blurry, dancing blues and reds.
I let Dad cuddle me and rock me in his arms. I realize then, I’m not crying for Jason. Not really. Did I want him to die? No, but I don’t think I can shed any more tears over him, either. Not over the boy who thought he could use me. Who called me to be a jerk and was so hurtful the last time I saw him.
I’m crying for the girl in the car with him and wondering if Jason told her all the same lies he did me. For Mom because I know the last thing she ever would have wanted was to leave Dad, to leave me. For Emery, her baby, and her struggles with Max. Angelica, Christian, and Brenda. I’m even crying for myself, too. For the girl I used to be who is now gone. For the one I became who is so broken. And for the girl I maybe hope to be one day.
I don’t stop until I can’t hold my eyes open any longer. Dad sits on the floor, his arms tightly wrapped around my body, rocking me, until I fall asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Before
“Have you ever done something you regretted? I’m not talking about something small. I mean, life-altering regret. A mistake that hurts other people but you can never take it back?” I nuzzle Jason when he wraps his arm tighter around me, holds me close, making me feel like he needs me the way I do him.
It takes him a few minutes to reply, which is strange. Jason is smart and well-spoken. He never has to work to put his words together. “I have…lots of times. Every time I do it, I tell myself it’s the last time. That I’m going to be smarter, be better, but it’s not always that easy.”
His reply is so different from anything I’ve heard from him before. I try to sit up, but he holds me to him.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask.
“No, you don’t want to hear about that.”
His father must really be horrible. I know he’s hit Jason a few times. Know he drinks, and I wonder how much more there is. I hate to think of the anger and rage Jason tells me he lives with. “It’s not your fault.” That I believe. Jason can’t control how his father acts.
He gives me a humorless laugh. “That’s one of the things I love about you, Brynn. The way you believe in me, the way you trust me. It makes me feel like I’m invincible.”
“I love you.” I pray my words help. That they make him feel better. No matter how strong Jason is, no matter how strong anyone is, we all need love.
“You really do, don’t you?” His voice is soft, almost needy.
“You know I do.”
“Good… I want that, Brynn. Tell me something about when you were younger. Something cool you used to do with your family. I like listening to your stories.”
So I do. I tell him about a surprise picnic Mom and I made for Dad once. We got so excited about keeping it a secret and actually blindfolding him so he didn’t know where we were going that we forgot the food. I tell him about Dad teasing Mom and that we all split a candy bar she had in her purse for lunch.
Jason is quiet the whole time, stroking my hair as I speak, making me wish he had stories like that to share with me, too.
“Thanks…” He pauses, then continues. “Go to sleep, Red. I’ll be sure to wake you before you have to be home.”
Jason rolls, tucking my back against his chest. I do what he says, close my eyes and let darkness swallow me, wondering if he’s doing the same.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Now
The sun shining through the living room window wakes me up. Dad’s arms are around me as he snores softly. I’m curled up next to him, leaning all my weight on his side as he sits on the floor. He slept all night like this, for me. The thought comes out of nowhere and I wonder what else he would do for his daughter. If he would do anything for me.
I look up at him and his eyes flutter open. Suddenly it’s like the words are impossible to hold back. They’re slamming against the wall inside me, taking fists and hammers to them, just so they can break free. Finally, finally they’re ready to fly. “I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t know about Jason. I didn’t lie about my age. He told me he was seventeen. He said he loved me. I just wanted him to love me.”
“What?” Dad moves, making it so I sit up, looking at him. Concern tilts the corners of his mouth down, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I know you didn’t lie, dolcezza. Do you think I don’t believe you?”
I look at the floor, trying to take his words in, and maybe hide, too, but Dad won’t let me. He’s tilting my head up so I have no choice but to meet his eye. “I believe you. I’ve always believed you.” Mom and I have both always known, Dad says what he means. When he wants to, I’m not sure there is anyone in the world who can speak with as much conviction in their voice as he can.
He believes me. He’s always believed me.
I actually feel those words start stitching me together again. The more I look at him, see truth and sincerity holding me with his eyes, the faster the stitching goes. It’s like I was ripped in half, broken, and I’m slowly being put together again. “You believe me?”