Chapter Thirty-One
Letting Go
After I was discharged from the hospital, Tristan had called Big Johnson to talk about Jarvis – his cousin. I made sure I was there so I could use my empathy-sight to note if he told us the truth or not, and if he’d had any part in Jarvis’s plans.
Tristan had changed a few parts of the story to cover all the supernatural stuff. Big Johnson had been in complete shock at it all. I could see the disgust in his eyes as well as the shame and guilt at having been deceived by his cousin, and for not being able to protect me.
Yet even after I had confirmed his innocence, I still had to let him go. He was sad that he wouldn’t be working for us any longer, but he understood why. The memory of his cousin would always be with me, and I couldn’t bear to relive it every time I looked at his face and saw the resemblance to his cousin.
Tiffany, Amanda and Becca came to visit every day, and sometimes other close friends, including the Harker sisters, who were eager to know how everything had worked out with Vigil and Sneaky Nick – Celeste particularly asked about Vigil. But I didn’t want to see any of them. I was tired of explaining the bruises on my face and on my wrists, having to cover up the horrid story behind them. I was tired of it all. I kept myself locked in my room whether there were visitors or not, to be honest. My room was my sanctuary, my fortress, the only place I felt safe.
Tristan and the boys kept hovering round me, checking to see if I needed anything. I knew they meant well and that they were only worried, but their constant attention only irritated me and stressed me out. I had to keep forcing myself to put on a brave face around them, and it was exhausting. I began to feel so incredibly tired all the time.
I tried to look happy on the outside, but inside I was breaking down. Depression filled me to my very core. I felt so weak, vulnerable and powerless, and every little thing seemed too big to face. Everything scared me.
Everybody had sort of put their lives on hold because of me and that made me even more upset. They shouldn’t have to stop their lives for me, and it only made me feel like a burden.
I was done being a cause of grievance in everyone’s lives. So after the second week of bed rest and motherly pampering, I told my mom she should get back to her life and her work; I was going to be just fine with the boys. She agreed to go home, reluctantly, and left soon after my stitches were out.
I knew Sam, Harry and Josh had travel plans for the summer break with Jamie and his friends, and that Seth and Tiffany had booked an awesome trip to the Worthingtons’ summer cottage too. I had already taken up too much of their vacation time with my problems, and now that everything was back to normal they should get out and enjoy themselves. They had been waiting for me to get better before they could enjoy their time off. It took some time and a few tantrums before I managed to get them all to agree to start packing.
I was going to stay in the house with Tristan, who didn’t even let me suggest that he should go and have some fun and enjoy his vacation too. We had been sleeping in different rooms since returning from the hospital. I had decided to have my mom stay in my room with me, so she could take care of me, and after she left I just stayed there. Tristan didn’t press me to move back to his room, but I knew it was something he constantly thought about.
He didn’t understand why I kept putting this distance between us; he didn’t know where we stood. I could see the confusion in his eyes. Were we together? Were we not? Why was I avoiding being alone with him? At the hospital I’d told him that we were good, yet I wasn’t acting like it. I didn’t know why. I didn’t understand what was going on inside me. All I knew was that I wouldn’t let anyone get too close. I kept pushing everyone out – even him – locking myself away in this tight shell.
He had been struggling to find a middle ground between smothering me and giving me space. He didn’t know if he needed to force himself to be more present, or to just leave me alone. It was turning Tristan into this anxious, conflicted, neurotic person. And again, it was all my fault.
We were both lost, not knowing what to do next. Maybe he couldn’t do anything for me at all; he couldn’t help me with this. This was something I had to do by myself. I had to heal on my own.
The day after the boys had left for their holidays, we received a surprise visit.
I was resting on my bed when I heard the doorbell ring, and a couple of minutes later Tristan entered the room, his face looking slightly flustered.
“Uh, Joey … Caleb Jones is here to see you.”
I looked at Tristan and snorted loudly, as if he had just told me the most amusing joke.
“No, I’m serious. He’s really here. He’s asking to see you.” He hesitated, clearly at a loss for words. “I think someone told him you were sick … I dunno …”
“You’re not joking,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I’m really serious. Caleb Jones from The Accidentals is downstairs, in our living room.”
“Who told him where I lived? Or that I was sick?”
“I don’t know. What should I do?”
“Well, I’ll go downstairs and talk to him, then …”
I tried to move too quickly on the bed, making my stomach sting a little. I grimaced. I guessed I wasn’t a hundred per cent healed like I had forced myself to believe.
“Stop! You stay put, I’ll bring him up,” Tristan said, frowning at me.
I was about to protest but he had already left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a beaming Beanie Boy right behind him.
“Hey, Gray! Heard you had some hospital problems and were feeling a little down, so I thought I’d stop by and pay you a visit, help raise your spirits,” he said, smiling. But he faltered when he saw my face. There were still a few bruises lingering; the nasty darker ones were gone, but a few light spots still remained here and there. I hadn’t been expecting any more visitors, so I hadn’t bothered trying to cover them with make-up.
“Whoa, what happened to you? Becca told me you’d had a little accident, and you were recovering, but that looks nasty,” he said bluntly, walking from behind Tristan towards my bed. “I may have insisted she hand me your address so I could visit. Hope you don’t mind …” He was wearing his gray beanie again, a few blond locks poking out in disarray.
“Huh. Yeah, you could say I had a ‘little accident’,” I said, embarrassed. “But I’m all right now.”
“There were rumors that you were having your tonsils removed, but I get the feeling it was something more than that …”
“Yeah …” I said, and trailed off. I didn’t really want to get back onto that topic again.
Caleb noticed I wasn’t in the mood to discuss it and dropped the subject. “So, Tristan, do you think you can get me a drink or something?” he asked, not fazed by Tristan’s intense stare.
“Oh. Okay, yeah. So, huh … I’ll go get you a drink, Caleb,” Tristan said, clearly reluctant but being polite. He hesitated by the door for a second and sighed, then walked outside, giving us some privacy – even though he was clearly not comfortable leaving me alone with Caleb.
Caleb watched Tristan depart, with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and then sat down on the bed, chuckling lightly. “Well, that was painful to watch. He really doesn’t want you to be alone with me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it was a bad judgment call … I wouldn’t leave me in a room alone with a girl, either,” he said, giving me a wink.
I rolled my eyes. That was Caleb Jones: an annoying, conceited womanizer. “Don’t make me throw a boot at your face, Jones,” I warned him.
Both of his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ah! That’s my girl. My Snappy is back! Thank God,” he said, putting a hand over his heart, dramatically. “I’m really not a fan of you with the chilling manner and blank stares, you know? Last time I saw you …”
I fumbled awkwardly with the hem of my shirt. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was … going through some stuff. But I’m okay now. I think …” I mumbled, em
barrassed that Caleb had seen me at my worst, flipped-out on Vigil’s powers.
“I’m glad you’re good, Snappy. I brought you some get-well flowers, but your boyfriend over there almost had a seizure when he saw them. He said you’re allergic to flowers and tossed them in the trash, which I know is bull, cos I read somewhere you love flowers …”
“You brought me white lilies, didn’t you?” I asked, guessing why Tristan had freaked out.
“Yeah! How did you know?”
“Had a hunch. I kind of had a little … traumatic experience, recently … with lilies,” I said. “It’s a long story, but let’s just say I’m not much of a fan of lilies now. But you didn’t know that, so, thank you. It’s the thought that counts.”
“Oh. Sorry. Guess I’m all about embarrassing faux pas today,” he said, leaning back and resting his hands behind him on the bed. “Next time I’ll bring you some chocolate, then. Is chocolate clear around here?”
“Chocolate is good. Always a safe bet,” I said, giving him a smile.
“So, how are you, really? This little ‘I’m sooo okay’ act of yours is really not convincing, you know?” he said with a side-smirk.
I sighed. “I am okay, Caleb. I wish people would stop asking me that every five minutes …”
His expression softened. “People are allowed to be worried. And I’m not talking about the bruises. You look all … sad … and tired … and depressed.”
“Gee, thank you so much. You look amazing, too,” I scoffed, glaring at him. “If this is you trying to console someone, I don’t want to be around you when you’re trying to be mean.”
He raised both hands in an appeasing gesture. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be nice, Snappy. It’s really painful to me, but I’ll try.” He really knew how to be annoying, the rascal. “But seriously, how are you?” he insisted.
I sighed again. So much for trying to divert attention from talking about what had happened. “I don’t know, it’s … complicated,” I muttered.
Caleb gave me a weird look, turned to face the wall and suddenly slumped back, lying on the bed and tapping the mattress by his side, indicating that I should lie next to him. I scooted closer and slumped by his side.
“What is the one thing you want to do right now? Don’t think, don’t over-analyze it, just answer me, honestly. What do you wish you were doing right this second?” he asked, the question totally out of left field.
“Ah … Uh, I …”
“Just say it, what do you want?” he pressed.
“I-I don’t know. That’s part of the problem, I think. I don’t know what to do …”
“Sure you do. I’m asking what you want to do, not what you think you should do, what people expect you to do. Don’t think of anyone else; forget about your boyfriend, your friends, just think about you. Tell me, what do you want?”
I stopped to think, biting my lip.
“Joey, don’t over-think it!”
“Okay, okay, geesh! I don’t know, I suppose the one thing I really want is … to go away. Escape from everything, from everybody, you know. I just want to be left alone, I guess.”
He turned his face to me and smiled. “There you go. Was that so hard?” He poked me, teasingly. “So, that’s it. That’s what you gotta do. Just pack up and leave, Gray. Get some time for yourself, get your thoughts back together. Go be alone. Find your way. Soul-searching; it does you good from time to time,” he said.
“You … you really think I should do this?” I asked, hesitantly.
He shrugged lightly. “If that’s what you really want, why not? You need to stop worrying about everybody else all the time. Be a little selfish. It’s allowed, you know.”
“Right,” I said, and we stared up at the ceiling some more in silence.
I know I shouldn’t have considered it seriously, but there was something in Caleb’s words that rang true. And even though I’d only met him a few times, I had this feeling that I’d known him my whole life, and that I could trust him. I’d never considered talking about these kinds of private, serious things with anyone other than Tristan or the boys, and here I was, spilling my guts to this famous rock star I barely knew. But he had been there for me that night at the park, and he had always treated me right … Well, he sometimes acted like a douche, but he meant well …
“You know, this is really weird, because we kinda just met and all, but I feel like I’ve known you for, like … for ever.”
“Get the fuck outta here! I was just thinking that,” he exclaimed, excitedly.
I let out my first genuine laugh-out-loud laugh in a long time then. Not forced, not fake. Just honest, truthful laughter.
There was something liberating about Caleb cursing so freely like that. It made me feel like I was able to let all my demons out, instead of locking them inside. “Thanks, Caleb. That was some good advice you just gave me,” I said gratefully.
“You think I’m just this incredible sexy, gorgeous guy, but I happen to have a good brain inside this pretty blond head, you know.” He sniffed indignantly, still loving the exaggerated theatrics.
“I’m really sorry for thinking you were just incredibly sexy and gorgeous,” I joked.
He turned to me and grinned. “That’s all right. I guess you can be a little skeptical about it. I mean, what are the odds of one guy alone having these looks, brains, amazing talent and the genius all at once.”
“You forget the unbelievable humility as well,” I remarked.
“Yes, that as well. I know it’s hard to believe, but hey, here I am!”
“God’s gift to humanity.”
“Exactly.”
“You do realize I’m making fun of you now?”
“No, you were just stating the obvious,” he said with a smirk. “And since you are so keen on taking advice from me today, may I suggest some that involves you getting single and agreeing to go out with me now?” he asked, raising one mischievous eyebrow at me.
I grabbed a pillow and whacked his face with it.
“Is that a no, then?” he asked, his laughter muffled beneath the pillow.
After Caleb left, I stayed in my room, mulling over his advice while pretending to read a book. Tristan came in, leaning on the doorframe and watching me in silence. I glanced over the top of my book to look at him. “Is everything all right?”
He gave me a weak smile, just like the ones I’d been mastering over the past few days. “No, I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he said.
“I’m okay, Tris,” I said, closing the book and marking the page with my finger. “You’re not mad because Caleb came to see me, are you?” I asked, seeing the weary resignation on his face.
I really didn’t want to fight with him because of jealousy again. I didn’t want him to be mad at me. And I still hadn’t told him about kissing Harry or Vigil. I didn’t have the guts to tell him. I was too afraid, too scared. It was like I’d been living on fear and guilt alone, and his anger scared me the most.
He shook his head. “No, I’m not mad. I’m glad he got you to laugh again, even …” He trailed off, looking sadly out of the window.
Even though I couldn’t. That was the rest of his sentence. I’m glad he got you to laugh again, even though I couldn’t.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad,” he finished, turning to look back at me.
“Tris …” My voice faltered.
“No, it’s all right, Joe. I mean it,” he cut in. “I’m happy to hear your laughter again. I don’t care about the reason, or who it is making you laugh. I’m only glad to hear it. It has been a long time,” he said, smiling softly at me. “I’m going to go out, get us some food, okay? I’ll be right back.” He left the room before I could say anything.
I watched the empty doorway for a long time, guilt corroding my insides. What was I doing to that boy? I kept crushing his feelings over and over again. I couldn’t continue doing this to him.
It was in that moment that I decided to take Caleb’s
advice. I needed to leave, to stop hurting him like this, stop hurting him every time he asked me if I was okay and I lied to his face. Every time I forced a smile, he saw right through it; every time he tried to help, I pushed him away.
I needed to be alone right now, so I could stop trying to hide the pain, all the time, wishing I was all right instead of actually doing something about it. I needed to act. I needed to figure out what was wrong with me, to fix what was broken.
I needed to get away to start healing. And I needed to do it now.
I gave Tiffany a quick phone call to see if she had a place where I could stay for a while, and asked for her word that she couldn’t tell anyone, not even Seth. Then I threw a few clothes in a bag and wrote Tristan a letter. I left the note on my bed, knowing that it would be the first place he would look in the morning.
That night, after we had finished our supper and he had retreated to his room to sleep, I read the letter one more time then grabbed my bags and silently left the house.
My dearest Tristan,
I’m writing you because I know that if I was standing right in front of you and had to say this looking into your eyes, I would never be able to do it. I would give up at the first sign of pain I see in you … So I decided to tell you in a letter instead.
I hope you can forgive me for being this cowardly. Sometimes I think I can only feel tired, and guilty and afraid, these days. That is all that I am, all that is left of me. A weak, scared, broken person. I hate myself for being all those things, and I hate that you have to see me like that, too.
You have asked me plenty of times, in the hope that I would give you an honest answer, and all those times I haven’t been truthful when I answered you. I keep lying to you, to everybody, even to myself, every single time.
And the truth is that I am not all right. Sometimes I fear I’ll never feel all right again. I think I will, I hope I will, but I don’t know for sure. I can’t tell the future. I wish I could say I am strong and will prevail, but I can’t see myself being strong right now.
And that is why I need to leave. I need some time for myself, some time to heal on my own, and I know that I need to walk this path alone. No one can help me find my strength again. This is something I need to do by myself.
The Lost Girl Page 27