The Girl

by K Larsen

  “Don’t forget me,” he whispers into my hair.

  I pull back so I can see him. “Never,” I breathe. I stretch upward and plant my mouth against his in a kiss, but he doesn’t kiss me back. He pulls away, simultaneously pushing me from him to my side of the back seat. Eve kills the engine. Pops the trunk. The sound startles me. For a suspended moment, Dallas just stares at me. As if he’s taking mental inventory, memorizing the last bits of me and cataloging them in his brain. With a deep inhale he unbuckles.

  He opens his door, staring at the massive brick building across the parking lot. Dr. Richardson is at the top step just outside the main entrance. She gives a little wave to the three of us.

  “How fortuitous,” Dallas says flatly. “Two days before my eighteenth birthday. Just in the nick of time.”

  I tug on his wrist. “If you just tell me what to do. We can fix it.”

  He blinks at me before giving me a cruel look.

  “I can't feel responsible for you as well as me, City. We're only kids. I’ll chew you up and spit you out. We'll end up hating each other. I don't want you to hate me. I need you to not hate me.” The indifference in his voice is painful. Indifference is the one thing I believe can slay love. Anger is still passion. Love is still passion but indifference… it’s devoid of any emotion. It’s the beginning of the end.

  He exits the car and slams the door. I hop out my side and jog around, throwing my arms around him and clinging on for dear life. I will not give up.

  "What is life without you?” My voice is unsteady and weak-sounding. Pleading, but for what exactly—I’m not certain. I can’t lose him. I know it as surely as I know the sky is blue.

  He rests his chin on the top of my head. "It's you, your light." I hate his answer. I hate that it doesn’t include him.

  "But, who am I without you?" I ask, eyes welling with tears.

  "You're everything that's right in the world." He holds me at arm’s length by my shoulders.

  "Don't do this. Don't leave me," I beg, my tone frantic. I can feel him slipping further away.

  "You deserve better." I hate those words. I hate the weight they carry. “I won’t let this define you—we need to make a fresh start without each other.” His words are solid. Permanent. They make my muscles clench. Anger ripples through me.

  "What about 'whatever the lady wants?’" My voice breaks at the end and I can’t staunch the tears that stream over my cheeks. My chest feels like it’s cracking in half. I won’t survive it. I won’t survive without him.

  He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple sliding up, then down his throat, wearing that indifferent expression. He slides his palms up and down my arms sending a tingling sensation through my body, before releasing me. He picks up his backpack and slides it over one shoulder. His eyes lock on mine in the most intense way.

  "I lied." His tone is deadpan. The words, an assault on my heart, hurt. The sudden urge to lash out strikes hard and fast. Anger replacing sorrow instantaneously.

  "Fuck you, Dallas Baribeau!"

  Eve jumps out of the car, her door left open, as she moves quickly. Dallas’s nose twitches and he nods at Eve before he turns away from me. I lunge for him, needing to feel him, if I can touch him, I will be certain that he’s lying, but Eve catches me by the waist.

  “Let him go, Lotte,” she grunts with exertion. I can't stop the curses that fall from my mouth. A slew of nasty, horrible words that I don't mean pummel his back as he walks up the steps and disappears inside the front doors with Dr. Richardson.

  I collapse to the pavement, Eve’s arms still around my waist—holding me together in a mass of tears and snot. Sobs wrack my frame, threatening to shake every last part of me to pieces, until I’m nothing more than a bone-filled sack of skin. And my heart. My heart, God! It’s stopped pumping. I’m certain of it. My lungs draw no air. My blood doesn’t move through my veins, the whole world, time, space—ceases to function. I don’t know if I can stand the pain I feel. It is so thorough and vast inside me. Why would he say that? Why?

  “Lotte, shhh, it’s okay. Everything will be okay. I promise.” Eve’s voice is timid, which is odd for her. She sounds like she’s breaking because I’m breaking. Also, odd.

  I launch myself backward, shoving her, until she’s forced to release me. Jumping to my feet I spin to face her.

  “OKAY? Everything is not okay! No one’s told me a damn thing! I have no idea why he’s here or what’s wrong with him or why this is happening!” I’m screaming like a lunatic, and a small part of me actually hopes that someone inside will see my tantrum and admit me right on the spot alongside Dallas.

  Eve stands and dusts off her palms on her jean shorts. Anger, but also sadness, wafts off her. She draws in a long breath. “Get in the car, Lotte. I’ll tell you what I know.”

  I slap my fists against my sides, too upset to get back inside the sedan, feeling trapped, knowing I have no other options.

  “I don’t want to leave him. I should go check on him.”

  Eve gives me a crestfallen smile before enveloping me in a hug. I can’t remember the last time she hugged me like this—meaningfully. “You can’t. Maybe next week. Dr. Richardson is with him right now sorting things out. He’s safe with her.” She releases me.

  I give up, give in. I quit. The last bits of any energy I possess evaporate in the air, the tears—again—flood my eyes and with a heavy heart, I turn and get in the car.

  42

  Charlotte

  We pass Ray’s in silence. The closed sign hangs on the front door like an out of place decoration. The shop is never closed. He’s open seven days a week. I should be in his car right now, traveling back to the hospital to be with Dallas. Guilt eats at my stomach for abandoning him there. At not fighting harder for him.

  When we turn onto our street Eve clears her throat.

  “Ray said he stopped taking his prescription almost a month ago.”

  “Prescription for what?” I ask.

  Eve shrugs. “He didn’t tell me. All he’d tell me was that Dallas has a mental health issue that is stabilized with meds. That being off them for this long means ‘things get dicey.’” She uses air quotes on the last bit and it makes me want to smack her. “You can talk to Ray tomorrow. He’s got a lot on his plate today.”

  She puts the car in park and stares out the windshield. “Are you okay?”

  “I was before today,” I say pushing my door open. I slide out of the car and close the door a little too forcefully. The trunk latch pops. I grab my things and stop at the bottom of the path to the front porch, staring up at the house. Being here suddenly feels foreign, like I’ve been gone too long or it’s no longer my home. Like I’m looking at someone else’s house.

  Eve’s ahead of me, at the base of the porch stairs.

  “You coming?” she asks.

  Waving my hand dismissively, I say, “Yeah.”

  I am thankful for Eve giving me momentary space. It is not her usual confrontational modus operandi and I can practically see all the questions she wants to ask me in her pinched face and strained movements. It is a struggle for her to curb how she wants to proceed over what will work out best in the long term.

  I dump my stuff in the corner of the kitchen and head for the bathroom, stripping my clothes off piece by piece as I go. Leaving a veritable trail of myself behind. Reaching behind the shower curtain, I crank the dial to nearly scalding and give it a minute to heat up. My reflection startles me. My hair, greasy and unruly, hangs limp around my face, which is a red, swollen, angry-looking disaster. My skin is browned to perfection from so many days in the sun and I’ve got ridiculous tank top tan lines that highlight the milky color of the rest of my body. I turn off the bathroom light—unwilling to look any longer at the reflection in the mirror—and step into the stream of piping hot water. I close my eyes and let the spray pummel my face.

  I half expect to come out of the bathroom and be greeted by Dallas’s easy smile. His arms wrapping around me and p
icking me up—twirling me around. Whispering in my ear how beautiful I am in only a towel.

  Eve sits in the living room, waiting for me. She looks tired, like she hasn’t really slept for a while. Her knee bounces as she pats the couch next to her.

  “Sit for a minute,” she says.

  I scoop my wet hair over one shoulder and fall into the couch cushion.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” she says pointedly. “You have an appointment with Dr. Richardson tomorrow morning and Monday you’ll have to sit down with your guidance counselor at school, you missed a week, Lotte. I don’t know if you can make up the work before school’s out. There’s only two weeks left.” Her voice is a mix of barely contained fury and exhaustion.

  A sigh heaves out of me. “I can make it up in time.”

  “Summer school might have to be a consideration.”

  “Summer school? Jesus, Eve,” I snap. “I can make up a missed week by the last day. I’ll be fine.”

  Eve shrugs and raises her brows in that ‘I-know-better-than-you way.’ “We’ll see. I have a thousand burning questions I’m dying to yell at you, but there’s actually some good news that’s slightly more pressing,” she says.

  I pick at the hem of my shorts, feeling dejected. What could possibly be so good that Eve’s willing to put off yelling at me?

  “Nora had the baby last night.”

  A gasp leaves me and my eyes snap up to hers. “It’s too early,” I breathe, instantly consumed with worry.

  Eve grins. “It’s three weeks early. She’s healthy and doing just fine. They probably messed up the due date. They’re both fine. Visiting hours end at eight.”

  Glancing at the clock I realize we only have a couple hours.

  “Let me change real quick.” I say, hopping up. At the bottom of the stairs I look back, over my shoulder. Eve’s eyes look watery and her shoulders are slumped.

  “I love you,” I say. “Thank you for coming to get us.” I take the first two steps, and then, “and I’m sorry I made you worry.”

  Eve’s sniffle is audible as I take the stairs two at a time to my bedroom.

  I’m nervous. Will Nora and Liam also be pissed at me? Will anyone let me hold the baby or is this going to end up some sort of intervention to save me from my wild boyfriend who’s a bad influence. I can picture the whole thing, everyone ganging up on me and thinking that my road trip was all Dallas’s fault instead of understanding that I wanted it. That I made the decision to go willingly.

  Eve’s hand is on the small of my back, ushering me through the appropriate door in a long hallway of identical doors.

  “Hello?” I quietly call out as we step inside Nora’s room.

  “Holy shit! Is that Prison Break?” Aubry’s voice instantly warms my heart and my nerves. “See Nora, I told you, all you had to do was pop out that baby to get her back.”

  The privacy curtain swings open, the bearings making that metallic whooshing sound as it goes. Mike’s toothy, handsome grin is the first thing I see, followed by Aubry’s head, dipping under his arm. She wraps her arms around me tightly and whispers in my ear, “I cannot wait to hear all the dirty details later. Don’t let these bastards get you down.”

  And for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I laugh—honestly and loudly—as she lets me go. Mike pats me on the back as I pass him. Liam, big like his brother Holden was, is crammed in a chair that looks too small for him. He stands and opens his arms to me. I rush into them, happy to take a hug. “You scared us, Lotte.” His voice is stern but his embrace is loving, and really, I didn’t expect to get away with my trip without consequence. Letting go, I turn to the bed. Nora looks radiant. Worn out, but overjoyed. Her fiery hair is a mess, her cheeks flushed, and a perfect tiny bundle of baby on her chest. I lean in to kiss her cheek, too scared for a one-armed hug. I don’t want to disturb the baby.

  Her eyes are wet with tears as she smiles. “You did this,” she says. “I was so worried about you, little Emma here decided it was time to come out and look for you herself, I think. When I went into labor and you still weren’t back yet, I was overwrought.” She grabs my hand and squeezes, and I feel like my heart might burst with emotion and guilt. If there is one thing that affects me in this world, it is Nora’s praise or disappointment. It slays me when she’s upset with me. It is so good to be here, surrounded by my people.

  “Can I see her?”

  “Oh my God,” she laughs. “Yes, of course. Lotte, meet Emma.” She lifts the baby up, handing her to me.

  Seeing the newborn in my arms shatters my heart, while somehow also melting it. I’m holding living proof of what will never truly be mine; Nora. She is someone else’s mom now and the look in her eyes while gazing at tiny baby Emma solidifies that fact deep in my core. It is a bitter pill to swallow, when for so long, I’ve clung to the idea that Nora is the closest I will ever get to a warm, loving mother—that she is mine. Tears leak out and run down my cheeks. Liam rubs between my shoulders and guides me to the chair to sit.

  “It’s okay, Lotte,” his fatherly tone only upsets me more, and I sob, head hung over tiny Emma’s sleeping face. I am so embarrassed that I can’t bring myself to look up at everyone.

  “Liam, take Emma,” Nora instructs. “Lotte, get up here—now.” The thump, thump, thump of her hand patting the bed strangely loud in the room. “Everyone else, take a walk.”

  Liam takes the baby from my arms and kisses the top of my head, which makes my sobbing worse. Quiet mumbles from Eve, Mike and Aubry make me wonder if I’ve ruined the visit as they head out. Glancing up, Nora smiles at me.

  “Get up here.”

  I crawl into the bed next to her. It’s a tight fit but we make it work. She tucks an arm around me, and I clutch her recently emptied middle and bury my face in her side and cry.

  “You will always be mine, Lotte. What we had at the cabin was real. My love for you is true and endless. You’re not losing me.”

  “You were never really mine, and now Emma is here and it’s so obvious how much you all belong together. How much of a family you are.”

  Her arm tightens around me. “You don’t get to make shit up, Lotte. You are my family. You are Liam’s family. And now you will be Emma’s family too. And I expect you to help teach her what the word family really means.”

  I sniffle. “You know I will.”

  “Just having a pity party moment?”

  I nod against her side. “A little.”

  “What happened with Dallas?” she asks.

  I sigh. “I took him to the cabin,” I tell her. She pushes at me slightly so she can see my face.

  “You went there?” she breathes.

  “I did. I changed everything. I burned it to the ground.”

  Now it’s Nora’s turn to cry. But her tears make me feel like rubbish. “It’s gone?”

  I nod. “It’s gone. But it wasn’t really there to begin with. It was dilapidated. A cadaver. There was nothing left but the memories we hang on to inside. So I made new ones, really epic, good ones. And then everything crumbled. I was holding on so tightly, and it still slipped through my fingers.” Suddenly my tattoo burns. I hate the reminder of him. Of broken promises. I want to slice the patch of skin off.

  “Now you’re talking about Dallas,” she says, softly. Using the back of my hand to wipe my drippy nose, I nod.

  “We slept together,” I whispered.

  Nora is terrible at hiding her emotions, and her eyes go wide at my admission.

  “Does Eve know?”

  I shake my head.

  “Were you safe?” she asks.

  Again, I shake my head.

  “Lotte, what were you thinking?!” she scolds. And I know it was monumentally stupid and could have ended badly.

  “I wasn’t really. I was in the moment. Wild, free, in love. I wanted to. I loved every second of it. Don’t make it shameful. I filled the cabin with love. Real love. I turned a place full of shitty memories into a place rife with the bes
t memories.”

  Nora is silent a long time. I place my head on her chest and let the silence fill up the space between us, her arms and mine tight around each other.

  “You love him?” she murmurs.

  “Yes.” Again, my tattoo seems to heat, screaming at me.

  “Does he love you?”

  I suck in a shuddering breath. “He did.” And again, the tears come out in full force.

  “Where is he right now?” she asks.

  “With Dr. Richardson at that psych hospital she took you to. You know, the one her friend lives in?”

  Nora inhales sharply. “Did he hurt you?” Her voice is laced with concern.

  I push up and away from her. “Yes. He did. He said horrible things that contradict every word and action from the previous months. Things that make my heart feel like a vacant gaping hole in my chest. So yes, he hurt me. Today. He broke my heart and I don’t even know why. But no, Nora, he never hurt me in the way you’re asking.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Lotte,” she reminds me pointedly.

  I sigh and shake out the tension in my shoulders. “I know. But I don’t know what went wrong. He just... one day he was ludic and the next morose. It’s like he crawled inside a dark hole that only he could see then couldn’t get out. I tried to cheer him up. I tried to love him harder, but nothing helped. I couldn’t watch him break anymore. It hurt me to see his pain.”

  Nora grabs my hands and strokes. “You did everything right. Sometimes love isn’t enough to save a person. You aren’t meant to save the ones you love. You’re meant to stand by their side, supporting them along the way, until they learn to save themselves.”

  I don’t want that answer. I don’t want it to be true. I want to be able to save Dallas. “But it hurts to not be able to help. It hurts to be pushed away.” My voice breaks as I speak.

  Nora pulls me back into her arms. “Of course it hurts. Love isn’t the absence of pain, my sweet girl, sometimes it’s learning to embrace it.”