by E. L. Todd
“What?” she asked.
“Jimi Hendrix?” I stared at her with wide eyes. “The greatest guitarist of all time?”
“Um, Eric Clapton?”
She kept taking me by surprise. I was rendered speechless for a moment. “You’re the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”
She chuckled then looked down at her coffee.
“Seriously, you are.”
She waved her hand away. “Stop.”
I stared at the side of her face until she looked my way. “How did you get so cool?”
She shrugged. “I guess I got it from my mom.”
I noticed her use of past tense. “Did she pass away?” I kept my voice low like that would make the question easier for her to hear.
She looked out the window.
“You don’t have to answer. I’m sorry I asked…”
“No, it’s okay.” She held her cup with both hands. “Yeah, she did.”
Her response hurt a lot more than I expected it to. The pain in her words went straight to my heart. I wanted to do something to make the pain go away. But I couldn’t think of anything. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She took a drink of her coffee then looked out the window. Her foot tapped to the beat of the song.
“How long ago?”
“Before I started college. About four years ago.”
That was pretty recent. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
She looked down at her coffee. “I keep telling myself I’m over it and I’ve let her go but…I know I haven’t. It’s something I’ll carry for the rest of my life.”
I’d never lost anyone before. I couldn’t even imagine how it would feel. I wanted to tell her I understood, that I’d been in her shoes, so I could promise her everything would be okay, but I couldn’t. “I wish I could do something…”
“It’s okay, Conrad.” For the first time, she touched me. She patted my hand gently then pulled away. The touch was innocent, even meaningless, but it still made me tingle. It was an itch I couldn’t get rid of. I wanted to scratch it, but there was nothing to scratch.
“May I ask what happened?”
She fell silent, thoughtful and quiet. Her finger moved around the rim of her cup slowly. “As long as you don’t tell anyone.”
She was going to share a secret with me? Something so personal she didn’t want anyone else to know? I couldn’t even begin to explain how honored I was. I was touched. “Of course.”
She cleared her throat. “Sometime in the middle of the night, someone broke in to our house and…killed her. He’d been making threats to my father for an unpaid debt. My dad brushed it off and didn’t take it seriously. But we paid the price for his stupidity.”
My heart accelerated and the blood pounded in my ears. It was so devastating I couldn’t even process it. My lungs burned with every breath I took. Pain like I’d never known seared my skin, burning me from the inside out.
“I was the first one to find her. I’ll never get the image out of my head.” Her voice was steady and monotone. If she was upset, she didn’t show it. Perhaps she’d shed so many tears she couldn’t do it anymore. “My dad remarried a year after she passed away. I haven’t spoken to him since.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to remain calm. I wasn’t prepared for the bomb she just dropped. “I’m so sorry, Beatrice…” I’d never meant something so much before.
“It’s okay. My mom is still here…even if I can’t see her.”
I wanted to comfort her in some way. My worthless words weren’t enough. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and held it in mine.
To my surprise, she didn’t pull away. But she looked at our joined hands for the span of several heartbeats. Her fingers moved in mine gently. They felt warm against my skin, reminding me of summer mornings before the scorching heat arrived. Then I got brave and interlocked our fingers, wanting to stretch out the affection as long as possible. “I wish there were something I could do for you.”
“It’s okay. Time will heal all wounds…one way or another.”
Music played in our ears while we stared at the meadow in front of us. Our warm coffee kept our hands warm, and our fingers were still interlocked.
“You know, you can talk to me about stuff…whenever you want.” I didn’t want to overstep my boundary and push her further than she could go. She’d already opened up to me a lot, and now I had a better understanding of who she was. She lost so much at such a young age, and now I understood why she was so thoughtful and quiet, innately distrusting of other people. Her maturity level was light years beyond mine.
Then I was hit with a revelation. “That’s why you want to be a lawyer.”
She nodded.
“Because the guy got away with it.”
She nodded again.
I sighed in sadness, hating the lack of justice Beatrice received for her mother’s passing.
“I wish he’d killed my dad instead. My mom was a lovely person, innocent and wonderful. She didn’t deserve to die…like that.” Her voice remained steady like she was talking about the weather.
How could she be so strong? How could she talk about such devastating things without breaking down? “I don’t think I could carry on.”
“Falling apart won’t fix the situation. Nothing in this wicked world is permanent—even our troubles.” She quoted Charlie Chaplin like it wasn’t a big deal. I was surprised I even recognized his words. “My mom wouldn’t want me to mourn her forever. She’d want me to be happy—even though some days that seems impossible.” She sipped her coffee again. “But enough about that. I don’t want to ruin our afternoon with such dark topics.”
“Our afternoon wasn’t ruined,” I said firmly. “If anything, it’s better. I’m really glad you trust me—as a friend.”
“Having a friend is nice… I don’t have very many.”
I figured. “Your dad hasn’t tried talking to you?”
“He has. I refuse to see him. He’s no longer my father as far as I’m concerned.”
I didn’t blame her. It’s one thing that her mother died because of his issues, but another that he remarried so quickly. It implied he didn’t love his wife or he was having an affair. Either one wasn’t good.
“Oh, I like this song.”
It was “Let It Be” by the Beatles. “Good song.”
“Classic song.” She finished her coffee then left it in the cupholder. “That was delicious.”
“I could drink caffeine all day. I need an IV drip for it.”
She chuckled. “That would be a serious addiction.”
“Worse than heroin.”
“And you would put Starbucks out of business.”
“True.” My hand still held hers. She hadn’t pulled away and I wasn’t going to do it first.
“Tell me something personal about you,” she whispered.
Now that she’d confessed something so intimate about herself, I felt like a jerk for not being completely honest about the type of guy I was. That would be a good thing to admit, but I knew I would lose her if I did. Like a coward, I tried to find something else to say. “My best friend is in New York and I miss him like crazy.”
She looked up at me. “Why did you choose that to share?”
I shrugged. “I guess not having him around really makes me depressed. I used to do everything with him. And now that he’s gone…it’s really hard. I know it’s stupid, and it’s nothing compared to what you admitted but…that’s what’s going on in my life right now.”
“Did he move there recently?”
I nodded. “He dropped out of college and moved to the big city for work. I haven’t seen him since school started.”
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t pull her hand away. “Do you talk to him?”
“We text back and forth, but it’s not the same. I miss watching the game with him, getting into trouble with him, laser tag…stuff like that.”
“It’s okay to miss your friend
. You don’t need to be ashamed of that.”
“I know…”
“Take a trip to see him.”
“I’ve been thinking about it.” I leaned back in the chair and got more comfortable. “I just want to graduate so I can move there and be with him again.”
“Aww.” She gave me a smile. “You love him.”
I shrugged. “I might…”
“What’s his name?”
“Roland. He’s actually my cousin.”
“A fellow Preston?” she asked.
I nodded.
“See him over the weekend.”
“I’ll see if he’s free.”
“And I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him.”
“I hope so.” I wouldn’t tell Roland I missed him. That was too weird. There were certain rules guys abided by. Not being mushy was one of them.
Beatrice leaned her head on my shoulder and stared out the window with me. The fact that she was being affectionate with me made my heart rate increase. I couldn’t believe it was really happening. Her hand was still tight in mine. We were just friends, but it felt like something more. Or was it? I’d never been friends with a girl before. I only had sex with them then forgot about them. The only girl friends I had were my family members. If I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t ever speak to girls.
The sun fell over the horizon and left us in darkness. We listened to her music until the battery ran out. We spent the hour in each other’s company. I never knew spending time with a girl and not getting laid could be…nice.
She stirred then pulled her hand out of mine.
I instantly felt cold.
“We should probably get going. I have a lot of stuff to do.” She pulled the earbud out of her ear.
“Yeah, me too.” I moved to the driver’s seat then headed back to the school. The radio was off and we basked in the silence. I was deep in thought, processing everything that had happened.
We reached the parking lot then pulled up to her car. “Well, thanks for getting coffee with me.”
“Thanks for taking me.” She grabbed her bag and opened the door.
“Beatrice?”
“Hmm?” She turned back to me.
“Can I have your number?” I wasn’t sure if I was overstepping any boundaries, but if she told me about her mom, I figured it was okay to ask for it.
“Sure.” She pulled out her phone then texted it to me when I gave her my number. “I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Good night.”
“Night.” She shut the door then got into her car. I stayed in my spot until she drove off.
On the drive home, I kept thinking about Beatrice. She was nothing like any other girl I’d met. She was deep and passionate, just as beautiful on the inside as the outside. She was independent and strong, rising above her past and finding a reason to go on. I respected her before, but now I respected her even more.
I wanted to be something more, to confess my real feelings for her. Instead of acting indifferent toward her, I wanted to be real. Unfortunately, she didn’t want that. But I could still be her friend. I liked spending time with her. She was the coolest chick I’d ever known. Just because we couldn’t be together romantically didn’t mean we couldn’t spend time together.
Right?
98
Skye
The rain had been hitting the windows for a week. The light tapping was constant background noise. I concentrated my thoughts on the sound, using it to distract my mind from the crushing darkness.
Time had passed but I wasn’t sure how much. I sent a message to my parents telling them I wouldn’t be returning to New York and I was safe, before I turned off my phone. But that was a long time ago. I couldn’t even guess how long.
The dirty motel had become home to me. The filthy curtains hadn’t been opened since the moment I stepped inside. The TV was on in the background but the sound was off. Instead of sitting in a chair or lying on the bed, I leaned against the wall next to the boxed AC.
I seldom ate and now my clothes hardly fit. They were practically falling off my body. I hadn’t looked in the mirror, so I had no idea how I appeared. But I probably looked like a disturbed ghoul.
I’d never hit rock bottom like this. My world had crashed, everything was burning in demonic fire, and every breath I took was painful on my lungs. Every time I thought about him, my knees became weak and I crashed to the floor. Imagining him with someone else crippled me.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to go home and see the people who only reminded me of him. But I couldn’t stay in California either. Stupidly, I hoped Cayson would call me and tell me everything he did was just a horrible mistake. But he never did. When I gave up waiting, I turned my phone off. My parents would blow it up, along with the rest of my family. I just wanted silence.
I just wanted to disappear.
The sobs came and went, but eventually they receded. My body was dehydrated, and I didn’t have anything left to give. My chest was permanently scarred from the dry heaves that overtook me every day.
I was a skeleton. He took away everything that made me feel alive. Nothing was left but my dusty bones. Without him, there was no me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sat on the floor and just willed the pain to go away.
The storm raged outside, slamming against my windows and giving me something to concentrate my thoughts on. In the midst of the noise, I heard a sound.
Someone knocked on my door.
I’d been locked up in this motel for so long I wasn’t sure what was real anymore. Did I imagine that? But who would it be? Too tired to respond and not caring anyway, I didn’t move from my spot on the old carpet.
It happened again.
Now I was certain I wasn’t imagining it. It really happened. I stared at the door, contemplating if checking through the peephole was worth the effort of me getting up. I didn’t have any energy left. I certainly didn’t have any drive.
The door lit up as a key card was entered, and then it cracked open.
I should have been scared. Someone was breaking in to my room and invading my privacy. They might want to rob me or do something worse. But I still didn’t care.
It opened and a man stepped inside. I only saw his slacks and shiny dress shoes. Slowly, I lifted my gaze and looked up to see a face I could never forget. His blue eyes matched mine, and the same sorrow reflected back at me. His jaw was clenched tight, and he released a painful sigh from his lips.
I looked away, not wanting to see his pity.
He let the door close behind him then he moved to the spot beside me. He leaned his back against the wall and crossed his ankles. His hands moved into his lap. He let the silence linger. Together, we stared straight ahead and listened to the storm pelt the windows.
I broke the silence first. “How did you find me?”
“A PI.”
I knew my dad would track me down eventually. It was inevitable. I was surprised he hadn’t located me sooner.
He fingered his wedding ring and didn’t look at me.
I was grateful because I knew I looked like a train wreck.
“I found you two months ago. Your mother told me to give you space. So I did.”
That must have been difficult for him. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my thighs. I was wearing a dirty blouse that was covered in stains and tears. I hadn’t showered in a week, so I knew I smelled horrible. My dad didn’t seem to mind.
“Skye, it’s time to come home.” His voice was gentle.
“Home?” I asked.
“Yeah. Everyone misses you.”
I didn’t have a home.
“You don’t belong in this motel. You have a destiny to fulfill, family who wants to be with you, and so much to live for.”
I stared straight ahead, listening to the echo of his words. “How long have I been here?”
He glanced at me, and for a moment, his eyes bored into my face. Then he looked away.
“Three months.”
Time had no meaning when you weren’t alive.
“It’s time to go home,” he repeated. “I’m taking you back with me.”
I couldn’t believe so much time had passed. Even now, months later, I was still distraught over my loss. Cayson was my whole world. When I reflected on our relationship, the memories stung. Every kiss and touch left me feeling cold. Did it mean as much to him as it meant to me? How could he be with someone else so quickly? Was I that easy to get over? Did I misinterpret every aspect of our relationship?
“Pumpkin?” My dad never raised his voice, always being gentle with me.
I missed hearing him call me that. I missed my parents and my friends. “Yeah?”
“I know things are hard right now, but they’ll get better. This will pass. You will smile again and you will laugh again. I promise.”
That promise seemed so empty. How would I ever feel happiness again? How would I ever recover from this? I was so hurt but also angry at the same time.
My dad slowly moved his hand toward mine. When I didn’t pull away, he grabbed it and held it softly. “I wish I could fix this…”
“No one can.”
“There’s someone else here to see you.”
“Mom?” I blurted. My voice betrayed my desire. She always seemed to make me feel better without trying. Would her grace and warmth work this time?
He nodded.
“Where is she?” I felt my lip quiver.
“Outside. You want to see her?”
I nodded and tried not to cry.
He stood up then walked outside. When he came back, my mom was behind him.
She looked at me with sad eyes, and her lips pressed together in a frown. Pity was evident on her face, and for a moment, she looked like she might cry at the sight of me. “Honey…”
“Mom.” A quiet sob came from my throat.
She moved to the floor next to me then wrapped her arms around me. She pulled my head into her lap then stroked my hair with her fingertips.
I closed my eyes and let the tears fall.
Her arms formed a steel cage around me, trying to protect me from something that couldn’t be combated.