Forever Mark

by Jessyca Thibault

  “Have I mentioned how much I like Tony?”

  Kellen laughed. “Well he likes you too. Loves you, actually. He told me that you were the coolest girl he’s ever met besides Mom and that I was dumb for hurting your feelings. He said I better apologize before next Friday.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “The boy meant business.”

  “If you hadn’t forgiven me he probably would have disowned me.”

  I looked away, letting my eyes fall on the living room carpet. When we’d come in it had looked like such a mess, a mess that seemed almost impossible to clean. Now though, it didn’t look so messy or impossible. It looked a little rough around the edges, sure, but that didn’t make it any less. It was still a carpet and with a little love it would be clean again.

  I turned back to Kellen and saw that he was looking at me, smiling. I crawled over to him and sat in his lap, my legs straddling his hips.

  “I like this much better,” he said.

  “Oh, really?”

  Kellen ran a hand through my hair. Then his fingers were tracing my cheek, my jawline, my neck – their touch so light I wondered if I was even feeling it or just imagining it. He leaned over and kissed me softly and I swear that boy stole some of the lightning from the sky and hid it in his lips, because the instant they touched mine I felt a shiver travel down my spine. He put his hands on my waist and I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning in and kissing him back, letting the electricity travel back and forth between our mouths.

  When I finally pulled away my face felt hot and my body was on-edge, full of the same adrenaline rush I’d felt outside in the storm.

  “I missed you,” Kellen said.

  “I missed you too.”

  “So, um, I have a question.”

  “What?” I asked. I leaned back, instinctively wondering what had gone wrong.

  “Relax,” Kellen said, laughing nervously. “It’s nothing bad I just wanted to know if you wanted to – ”

  “If I wanted to what?”

  “Carson, has anyone ever told you that you interrupt a lot? God, I’m making this awkward enough as it is. I mean, I should have asked you this weeks ago. We’ve been acting like we’re together but I just never – ”

  “Kellen Jordan,” I said, grinning. I’d never seen Kellen fumble over his words so much before and I thought I figured out why. “Are you trying to ask me to be your girlfriend?”

  “Again with the interrupting. You know, you’re going to ruin your wedding proposal in the future,” he said, though I could see his nerves had settled.

  “I don’t believe in marriage.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he said. For some reason this made me blush. “But, yes, Carson Reynolds. I am asking you if you would like to be my girlfriend.”

  “That wasn’t so bad,” I said, teasing him.

  In reality though I was happier than I’d been in a long time. I hadn’t been someone’s girlfriend since my life started falling apart and I honestly didn’t think it was something I’d ever want again. I’d been convinced that relationships just broke people. Now though, I realized that I was just waiting for the right person to come along, the person that would prove me wrong. I was waiting for someone who made me laugh and smile, someone who encouraged me to try new things. I was waiting for someone who wasn’t afraid of my madness and didn’t want to change me, but who wanted me to see that the darkness I was living in didn’t define me and didn’t have to consume me, someone who could show me the light at the end of it all.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

  I wasn’t waiting for perfect, I was waiting for right. I was waiting for this.

  Chapter 35

  Back In

  I look different

  I feel different

  I think this is happiness

  And if I’ve gotten there

  If I’ve reached that point

  Doesn’t it mean I’m better?

  Doesn’t it mean I’ve made it through the tunnel?

  Why is she trying to drag me back in?

  “You look happy, Carson.”

  I sat down in the big therapy chair in Dr. M’s office, which didn’t look nearly as threatening as it did when I’d first started going there.

  “I guess that’s because I am,” I said simply. I wasn’t being snarky or sarcastic, just honest.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Dr. M said. “And you’re feeling better?”

  Oh, right. I was “sick” the week before. I decided there was really no point in keeping up that charade. It wasn’t like Dr. M could give me detention for skipping a session.

  “Actually, I wasn’t sick,” I said. “Kellen and I had a fight and I just didn’t feel like coming in.”

  “I see.” Dr. M jotted something down. I wondered if she’d ever show me her doodles when I was done with therapy. “And I’m guessing the two of you made up?”

  “We did.”

  “And how did that go?”

  How did it go? Well, I didn’t call in sick again, did I?

  “Um, it went pretty well,” I said. “It was all really just a misunderstanding, but we talked it out and now everything’s better.”

  “I’m glad to hear that you talked it out. You’re opening up much more to people than before.”

  “I guess so,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Be proud of yourself, Carson. Don’t downplay your victories.”

  “My victories? All I did was listen to him.”

  “And that required you to open your heart, Carson, which is something you’ve had trouble with. It took a lot of courage.”

  I hadn’t thought of it that way. I’d just thought of it as me toning down my psycho-bitch tendencies.

  “You know, Carson, I’m looking at a very different person now than I was a few months ago,” Dr. M said.

  I tugged at the purple tank top I was wearing. Kellen’s mom had given it to me the other day.

  “Tell me about it,” I said. “I almost didn’t recognize myself this morning.”

  I’d been staying up late texting with Kellen every night or reading the new book he gave me, so I hadn’t had the energy to get up and go through the lengthy process of hair and makeup that I’d stuck to religiously for years. I hadn’t really wanted to either. So my hair was wavy, my face was all freckly, and my eyes were makeup-free. The color of my hair had faded to a chocolatey brown too. I didn’t hate it.

  “I’m not talking about your appearance,” Dr. M said. “I’m talking about your whole attitude and demeanor. For example,” she continued, pointing at me, “not too long ago you would sit with your arms crossed or you’d have your hands balled up into fists beside you. You’re much more relaxed now.”

  I shifted in my seat, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I was wondering if maybe Dr. M’s doodles were actually diagrams of my sitting patterns.

  “But now that you brought up your appearance, let’s talk about that,” Dr. M said. “Have the kids at school reacted to the changes you’ve made? You said in our last session together that you weren’t comfortable going to school without makeup. What changed?”

  “Um, I don’t know,” I said. “On the day Kellen and I had our fight I’d gone to school like this and people stared at me and made comments and it made me really uncomfortable, but then I guess I just got over it. It didn’t seem like such a huge deal anymore, not in the grand scheme of things.”

  “The grand scheme of things? What do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know. Life?” I said. “After I leave high school I’m never really going to see these people again, so what do I care if they don’t like my hair or my face. Besides, I’m not sure it was ever really about my appearance. I think I was using the makeup and clothes and everything as a sort of armor, but now I just don’t feel like I need it.”

  “That’s a very perceptive observation, Carson. It sounds to me like you’re feeling much more confident in your skin,” Dr. M sa
id, smiling slightly.

  “I guess so,” I said. “Plus, it kind of hit me that just because someone calls me something, doesn’t mean that’s who or what I am.”

  I thought about what I’d found written about me on that bathroom stall the previous Monday. Over the weekend I kept thinking about how I wanted it off the stall, so this Monday I went in with a black permanent marker, but when I went in and looked I saw that “Carson Reynolds is a whore” was already gone. Someone had drawn an odd looking animal over the words and colored it in so they were no longer readable. Over the animal the person had written “Get a life.” As soon as I’d seen that I knew who’d done it. When you spent years passing notes back and forth to each other in class, you started to recognize a person’s handwriting like it was your own. I’d have known that handwriting anywhere. That’s when I’d figured out that the odd and disproportionate animal drawn on the stall was a hippopotamus.

  Bree had never been the best drawer.

  I smiled to myself as I thought about this, just as I had when I first saw the stall’s new graffiti on Monday.

  “What are you smiling about?” Dr. M asked.

  “Just thinking how much things can change in a few weeks.”

  Dr. M smiled back at me. “Indeed they can.”

  “I don’t even know why I did some of the things I did before. It feels like a lifetime ago.”

  I didn’t mean to say this out loud, but once I had there was no way to pull it back in. I could see Dr. M getting into Super Shrink mode.

  “You said before that things started getting bad between your parents when your mom didn’t want to have sex with your dad,” Dr. M started.

  “Um, yeah,” I replied awkwardly. It felt weird, not to mention creepy, to be discussing my parent’s prehistoric sex life with my therapist.

  “Is it possible that maybe you were having sex with boys because you thought that would keep them around?”

  “No,” I said immediately, but then I thought about it.

  I remembered Dr. M asking me this same question all those weeks before I met Kellen – why did I keep doing it to myself, why was I so self-destructive – and I couldn’t help feeling like we’d come full circle now. Back then I’d told her it was because sex was fun, but I don’t think that was ever really the case. Whenever I got with someone I always knew it was a one-time thing, that they were only temporary. I thought that’s why I was doing it, because I just wanted that rush. But I thought back to all of the afters – after the guy left, after I left. I always felt empty. Maybe on some level I was trying to fill some loneliness. Maybe I thought sex was the solution. Lack of sex had certainly been the problem with my mom. Maybe I was trying to keep the same thing from happening to me.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  The room was quiet for a few moments while I sat and thought about this. Did my sexual activities really stem from my parent’s lack of intimacy? The thought made the cheeseburger I had for lunch revolt in my stomach.

  “Don’t beat yourself up about what’s already happened, Carson,” she said. “All you can do is go from here. I’m just trying to help you understand the reasoning behind your actions so that you can move forward. But why don’t we talk a little bit about your future? We’ve talked a lot about your past but we haven’t really discussed what’s to come.”

  “Sure,” I said, grateful for the subject change.

  “Have you thought about what you want to do after high school? Have you thought about college?”

  I felt my face drop. This was not the subject change I’d been hoping for.

  “College?” I asked.

  My mom had asked me about the same thing the night before. Kellen and I were sitting on the couch and he was helping me with my history homework when my mom had walked through the front door carrying two big bags of baking supplies.

  “Oh,” she’d said when she saw Kellen. ‘I didn’t know you were here.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Norton,” Kellen had said cheerfully. “Do you need help with those bags?”

  “No,” she had said curtly.

  We’d continued working on homework as my mom banged around in the kitchen, making way more noise than was necessary. Kellen was helping me make a timeline of the presidents when my mom slammed a cabinet door shut.

  “William Taft got stuck in a bathtub, you know,” Kellen had said.

  “You’re lying,” I’d replied as I filled in Taft’s name on the timeline.

  “I swear on Taft’s bubble bath and rubber duck.”

  I’d started laughing, which apparently wasn’t allowed because my mom slammed another drawer before storming into the room.

  “Carson,” she’d said. “I think it’s time for Kellen to go home. You need to do your homework.”

  “I am doing my homework.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it,” she’d said as she folded her arms across her chest and gave us a disapproving look.

  “We were joking around for five seconds,” I’d shot back, narrowing my eyes. “Relax.”

  I knew the last thing you wanted to do was tell an angry middle-aged woman to relax, but her attitude had seriously been annoying me. First she’d sent me to therapy because she thought I was too depressed and then she was angry because I was laughing? Because I was finally sort of happy? The woman was being impossible.

  “Your education is not a laughing matter,” she’d said. “You need to get serious and start thinking about your future.”

  That’s when I’d rolled my eyes, which was another thing you didn’t want to do when an angry middle-aged woman was lecturing you, but eye-rolling was an involuntary reaction for me when I heard something stupid.

  “I mean it, Carson. Have you even started applying to college?” she’d asked.

  I’d snorted. We’d been over this before. “Mom, I can barely pass geometry. I’m not going to college.”

  I’d thought my mom’s head was going to pop right off her body, but honestly she should have expected this. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d told her I wasn’t going to college. Besides, I had been under the impression that the goal was to just make it through high school.

  “And what exactly do you plan on doing after high school?” she’d asked.

  “I don’t know. Celebrating?”

  I’d only been joking, but I guess that was a third thing you didn’t want to do in the presence of an angry middle-aged woman. My mom’s nostrils had flared like you wouldn’t believe. That’s when she turned to Kellen.

  “And what are your plans for after high school?” she’d practically spit out.

  Kellen hadn’t been intimidated though. “I applied to the local community college, but I haven’t decided if I’m going to go right away. I’m thinking of taking a year off to travel and volunteer.”

  Most people would have found this admirable, but of course my mother saw something wrong with charity work.

  “Don’t you think that if you take a year off you’ll be less likely to go back to school?” she’d asked.

  “No,” Kellen had said cheerfully. “I want to get an education, but I also want to experience life.”

  “There’s plenty of time to experience life after college.”

  “Maybe, but none of us really knows how much time we have to experience life,” Kellen had said.

  I’d thought this was fifty percent inspirational, fifty percent morbid. My mom thought it was one hundred percent unacceptable because she’d told Kellen to go home.

  So, yeah, college was kind of a sore subject.

  I told Dr. M about what happened with my mom.

  “So you haven’t given any thought to what you want to do or what you want to be after high school?” she asked.

  “Not really,” I said, picking at a loose thread in my shirt.

  If I was being honest all I really wanted to do after high school was live. All I wanted to be was alive. There were so many times in the past four years when I didn’t think I
would make it to the end of high school and now I was almost there. I’d held on for so long. Why couldn’t I just have ten minutes to be happy about that?

  I didn’t say any of this to Dr. M though. No need to open up a whole new can of worms.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’ll travel and volunteer with Kellen for a little bit.”

  Dr. M cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. She pursed her lips and I could see her two rabbit teeth poking out slightly over her bottom lip.

  “What?” I asked.

  Dr. M fiddled with the rings on her pudgy pinky finger. “That’s Kellen’s dream. It’s what he wants to do. Don’t you want to find your own dream, Carson? Don’t you want to make plans based on what you want to do?”

  “I thought you liked Kellen,” I said defensively.

  “I do. But you need to make your own happiness. If you rely on someone else to make your happiness for you then you’ll have nothing if they ever leave.”

  “Kellen’s not going anywhere,” I said. I knew I sounded kind of childish, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Okay,” she said, but I could tell she was just trying to pacify me. “I just want you to remember that you can’t count on other people to be your medicine. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to them.”

  Medicine? What was she even talking about? I pictured Kellen dressed up as a giant pill bottle, ready to relieve the headache that was my life. I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing.

  “Kellen is not the solution to your problems, Carson,” Dr. M continued. “You are.”

  “I know,” I said, even though I still didn’t really get why she was saying these things.

  Hadn’t one of the major points of this therapy thing been to get me out of the mindset that everyone leaves?

  Dr. M looked at the clock. “Well,” she said, “time is almost up for today. Is there anything else you want to talk about before you go?”