Scratch

by Rhonda Helms

  Grandma’s gaze drifted over my shoulder. “I remember when you and your sister were little. You were in kindergarten, so Lila was around two. It was Halloween. Your father always loved that holiday—he would plan for weeks to make you guys the perfect outfits. That particular time, he’d made you fairy wings. You came back from trick-or-treating with a bag full of candy and flushed cheeks from all the compliments.”

  Oh, that was right. I vaguely remembered that now. Everyone had gushed over my outfit. My dad had held my hand as he’d dragged my sister behind us in the wagon. After that, we’d eaten so much candy my stomach had cramped. But it had been a great night.

  I felt an uncomfortable pinch in my chest. I didn’t want to remember the good things about him. I’d spent all these years struggling to maintain my memories of my innocent mom and sister. Yet now that Grandma had brought it up, those things I’d pushed aside were screaming in my head and rising to the surface.

  Dad and I sharing cotton candy at a local fair.

  Him coloring the tips of my hair blue because I’d seen it in a magazine and wanted the same look.

  He and Lila drawing on the sidewalk in colored chalk, then racing around the front yard to color each other with streaks of pink, blue, green.

  My breaths began to shorten, and I pressed a hand to my chest. The anger I’d felt earlier now mingled with a bone-aching sense of loss. I’d lost my sister and my mom. And the dad I’d loved as a little girl. The pain of it all stripped me

  I reached over and hugged Grandma to me, breathing in her soft vanilla scent. Body-wracking sobs took over and I cried hard into her shoulder for several minutes. My throat grew raw, and my chest ached.

  “Will this ever stop hurting?” I asked her, my tone begging for relief.

  “Shhh,” she whispered as she stroked my hair. She wrapped her arms around me a little tighter. “It’s okay. Let it out—purge it, sweetheart.”

  In my head I knew all this anger and fear were poisonous, boiling in my blood, just waiting to kill me. I wanted to be rid of them. Yet I feared what would happen if they were gone. I’d been living like this for so long that now I didn’t know any other way.

  Her words sank into my consciousness, echoed the phrases I’d heard earlier today. Daniel begging me to tell my father exactly how I felt. Insisting I couldn’t heal until I’d purged this out of me. But how could I purge something so ingrained that it made me who I was?

  I sniffled and pulled back, swiping at my soaked face. My nose was snotty and stopped up. My eyes ached, and I had the edge of a headache threatening to burst forth. “Sorry,” I said on a low sigh.

  Grandma tilted my chin. “Don’t you dare apologize.” Her eyes were so serious and intense that I was startled. “You never apologize for your feelings. Not to me or to anyone else. But please, do think about what we talked about. I know you’re afraid you’ll lose control. I’ve seen how hard you work to not let people in—not only to protect yourself, but to protect them out of some misguided fear that you’ll turn out like him. But sweetheart, you’re not your father, and what happened to him won’t happen to you. If you want to be free of this pain, you need to let all of this go. Stop letting his mistakes and his illness continue to impact you like this. And stop blaming yourself for his actions.” She lowered her hand to her lap. “No one can tell you the right way, so search your heart for the truth. Your answers are in there.”

  My stomach flipped. Her advice was hard to swallow. So easy for people to tell me I should let it go. I stupidly thought I had, in a way. No, I hadn’t written my dad a letter and burned it, as the therapist had advised me a long time ago. But I’d stayed in school. Gone to college. Was pursuing my love of music. How was that not moving forward with life?

  Why couldn’t that be enough?

  The kitchen timer went off.

  Grandma pulled me off the couch. “I think some of my amazing meatloaf will set you on the right path.”

  I gave a watery smile, as I knew she was trying to lighten the tension in the room. But my heart was still far too unsettled. I wasn’t able to do the things Grandma and Daniel were telling me. The idea of even talking to my father made my stomach turn, made me want to vomit. Grandma had said my dad’s issues were out of my control, that it wasn’t my fault, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I could have done something, anything to stop it from happening. Could have saved my mom and sister.

  And what would happen if I did as they said but I didn’t feel any better? If I faced the truth about my emotions and confronted my dad somehow? Then I’d have no one left to be angry at but myself.

  I didn’t know if I ever would be ready to release this deep-seated fury. A thought that both saddened and scared me.

  Chapter 21

  The temperature was dropping daily, it seemed. Now that we were well into fall, I had dug out all of my sweaters from storage and was wearing a fuzzy dark green one on my way to Monday morning’s philosophy class. As usual for the last couple of weeks, my stomach was a total mess of nerves as I headed down the sidewalk to my class building. I sipped my coffee and forced my shoulders to unclench. The dub-step song playing through my earbuds throbbed beneath my skin and helped me relax a bit.

  Students laughed and jostled around me, some making a mad dash across campus to make it to class on time.

  A cool breeze whisked through campus, making my hair dance along its currents and sending a smattering of goose bumps across my skin. Fall was my favorite season; usually, I anticipated it with much excitement. But there wasn’t a lot to be excited about these days, it seemed.

  When I got into the classroom, I took my usual seat and tucked my bag under my feet. I turned off my music and stowed the phone and earbuds away. The desk in front of me was empty, as it had been since I’d gathered my courage post-conversation with Grandma and gone back to class that Monday. One week off from philosophy was probably too much, and I had to suck it up and go or else I’d be in big trouble grade-wise. But I was petrified to face him.

  It still gave my heart a painful pinch to remember how Daniel hadn’t been sitting there anymore. That first day back, I’d been shocked to come in and find him sitting in a back corner, hunched over his notes, not paying attention to anyone else in the room before our professor started the class. He hadn’t looked over at me once.

  It also didn’t help things that I’d felt like a total wreck, and he was still devastatingly handsome. His hair curled softly, and his green eyes were even more vivid than I remembered. Something in my soul throbbed, as if a piece of it had been ripped out and thrown away. I’d been torn between wishing I could ignore his presence and wishing I still had the liberty to drink him in.

  After that Monday class had ended, he’d grabbed his stuff and taken off. And every class period since then had been the same.

  We were strangers now. No texts, no calls, nothing. Like we’d never been close or shared secrets. Like I’d never smelled his scent on the lean muscles of his throat, or he’d never kissed me, or we’d never been as intimate in our bedrooms as two humans could possibly get.

  Daniel was giving me the space I’d demanded of him. Respecting my wishes and not pushing me anymore.

  And my stupid heart was bitterly sad about it. That love I’d felt for him hadn’t gone away, despite my simmering anger at his pushiness. It hadn’t faded with the distance. In fact, I had a hard time concentrating in any of my classes. I kept replaying our times together, layer upon layer of memories that haunted me. My bed was so empty without him. It was killing me that I couldn’t read his face anymore. What had once been an open book to me was permanently closed.

  The professor strolled in and began writing on the board. I dared a glance over at Daniel. My heart stuttered when our eyes caught, then he looked away blankly and focused on the front of the room.

  I never imagined I could hurt this much over a guy. Especially over one who had betrayed my trust, who had pulled all those dark secrets from me when I wasn’t ready
to deal with them. I halfheartedly scribbled some notes on my notebook. Tried my best to pay attention to the lecture. But the class was dull.

  I was dull.

  It was like my inner spark was gone now. All that was left was a shell of a person, getting up and going to classes and eating and sleeping and repeating the whole process again and again. But with no passion. Even my music sucked when I tried to compose something new. The song I was working on felt trite, meaningless, like there was resonance missing that I didn’t know how to recapture. Deejaying felt like a regular job, too, and I counted the hours until my shift ended.

  I sighed and tucked my hair behind my ear. Good grief, I was tired of feeling so down. It wore on me, rubbed off layer after layer of skin until I was a raw bunch of nerves. I listened to party girl Amanda whispering with another girl, talking about parties they went to the past weekend, funny things that happened to drunk attendees, what they were going to have for lunch.

  Class ended. I stayed in my seat as the crowd around me slowly left. When the room was empty, I gathered my things and stepped into the hall, then outside into the cooler autumn air. Leaves had changed with brilliant speed, our campus decorated in hues of reds, oranges and yellows. The sight momentarily lifted my spirits.

  Ahead of me, I saw Daniel strolling away, bag slung over his shoulder, head up and shoulders back. I was filled with a strong burst of longing.

  I couldn’t help it—I followed him. Not closely, but I just felt this crazy urge to see him more, even if he didn’t see me. My heart thumped, and my hands shook a little, so I crammed them into my jeans pockets. That bitter sting of anger I’d felt after the cemetery incident had started to fade away with the passage of time. Now I was left with a whole lot of remorse.

  Remorse and loneliness. I missed him. Missed the way he’d smile at me, take my hand, make me laugh. How he saw me, knew me.

  Had I been wrong to shove him away without talking things through about the cemetery trip? Upon thinking about it all, I knew Grandma was right. I needed to let go of the pain so I could heal. But I wasn’t sure if I was too damaged now, if all this resentment and animosity and fear about my father had poisoned me to the point where I couldn’t get over it. It had caused me to push away everyone, whether they deserved it or not.

  My eyes stayed fixed on Daniel. He stopped to talk with a tall Latino guy, so I slowed my pace and lingered by a tree, pretending to check something in my bag. I’d been so sure Daniel was 100 hundred percent wrong, that I’d been justified in demanding he leave me alone. But time was making me revisit the incident with a different eye. And suddenly it wasn’t so crystal clear. Sometimes people did the wrong things for the right reason. Had that been the case here?

  When I looked up, he was gone. And that ripping ache in my chest widened just a fraction more.

  I curled my legs underneath me on the couch and flipped through the channels. There was nothing on TV on a Tuesday night. I’d gotten bored of just sitting in my room, staring blankly at the walls. Earlier I tried to work on my song, but all it had done was make me depressed because it wasn’t fitting together right. None of the samples I layered in clicked. I’d never had music fail me before, and it was crushing to realize I was losing all my safe spaces. There was nowhere to turn to feel better now. On impulse, I’d listened to the one Daniel and I had made and started crying. So I’d disgustedly shut everything off and come into the living room, needing to get out of my own head for a while.

  I settled on some random sitcom and tucked a pillow on my lap. Time slipped by in a dull numbness.

  After a while, the front door opened. “Oh, good. You’re home,” Megan said as she walked in, bearing two full grocery bags. She went into the kitchen and unloaded her items.

  “How was your day?” I asked politely.

  There was silence for a moment, then she plopped down on the couch beside me. In her hands were two pints of ice cream. She thrust one at me, along with a spoon.

  I took a good look at her, maybe for the first time in weeks. I’d been so caught up in my own personal misery that I hadn’t seen much of my roommate. There was a strain of fatigue around her eyes, and she was wearing a plain black sweater and jeans. No makeup either. None of her usual flair.

  I peeled off the top of the container and dug in. Chocolate ice cream with peanut butter cups. The girl knew what I needed. “Are you okay?” I asked her after I took a bite of ice cream.

  “Are you?” she retorted, taking her own bite. She moaned with pleasure, then twisted her body to face me. “Casey, have you noticed that in the last few weeks, this apartment has been horrendously depressing?”

  A bubble formed in my throat, and I tried to swallow it back. I gave a short nod. My old friend, guilt, flared up again. “I’m sorry.”

  Megan grabbed the remote and flipped to AMC. Some old black-and-white thriller was coming on, the opening credits scrolling. “Look,” she finally said with a heavy sigh, “I know there’s something up with you. And I know it probably has to do with Daniel, since he hasn’t been around here lately. And I also know you probably don’t want to talk about it. But it’s killing me to see you so sad. How about we overdose on ice cream and movies for a while?”

  Tears burned the corners of my eyes. I blinked, set my ice cream on the coffee table. I spent so much of my life keeping people at arm’s length, yet people still kept trying with me, even if I didn’t deserve it. I felt alone, but I wasn’t alone.

  I gave her a shaky smile. “You’re awesome, do you know that?”

  She laughed. “Actually, yes, I do. But I’m glad you’re finally realizing it. Took you long enough.”

  “Are you okay? You seem . . . tired,” I said tentatively. I wasn’t used to seeing her like this.

  She shrugged, her mouth curving into a slight frown. “Bobby and I broke up.”

  I offered her a sad smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. I’m better off.” She shoveled in another spoonful of ice cream. “I caught him in bed with two girls after he got trashed at a party last weekend. Not having that.” She glanced down at the container. “The only threesome I’m interested in is with Ben and Jerry.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. I popped my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t, but . . .”

  She looked up at me and laughed, too, shaking her head. “Why are guys so stupidly messed up? Don’t they ever get tired of being assholes?”

  Daniel’s green eyes came to mind. The lightness faded, replaced by a pressing heaviness on my chest.

  In that moment, I needed to get all of this out of me. I had this strange ache for Megan’s friendship. I needed to confide in her, to show her she was important, that I appreciated her continued efforts at drawing me out. Her honesty and willingness to share her family and her life with me. Friends did that for each other, and though I didn’t deserve it, she was still there for me.

  “Can we talk?” I asked her.

  She put her ice cream aside, then reached over and squeezed my arm. “Of course. I’m here for you.”

  I spent the next half hour telling her everything. Although it was hard to do so, I lifted the bottom of my shirt and showed her my stomach scars. Her eyes had grown wide, then filled with sorrow and grief as I relayed what had happened to me.

  I told her how my grandparents had been my everything for so long that I didn’t know how to let others in. That I was afraid of trusting—not just because my father had committed the ultimate betrayal, but because I didn’t know if I would turn out like him in the future. Tears started dribbling down my face, but I let them fall, unchecked. My hands were clenched on the pillow, but still I talked.

  About Daniel. The way he’d drawn me in, how we’d kissed and I’d pulled away at the drive-in. His slow wooing of me, how I’d found my barriers crumbling. How we’d made love after he’d taken care to make me feel comfortable and sexy and wanted, and I’d realized I’d fallen for him.

  Megan stayed quie
t, just listening. Her eyes flared with all her naked emotion, but she kept silent, letting me speak my peace.

  When I got to the part about exposing my secret to him, and our trip to the cemetery that had ended our relationship, my body throbbed with all the emotions stuck inside of me. It was hard to keep talking because I still felt so hurt about it, but I made myself put it all out there.

  Finally I finished. I drew in a few slow breaths to help ease the pain in my chest. I gave an awkward chuckle and grabbed my ice cream, which was pretty much chocolate slush by now.

  “Wow,” she said as she shook her head. “It’s been a rough semester for you, hasn’t it.”

  “I don’t know how to fix anything,” I admitted. “And I feel like I can’t. Like I’m going to be stuck in a pain cycle because I’m . . .” I bit my lower lip, blinked back fresh tears. “I’m too jacked up to ever be fully happy. The way I’m so desperate to. All I wanted was peace and safety. A normal life.”

  Megan leaned over, took the ice cream from my hands and wrapped me in a warm hug. I slipped my arms around her and squeezed, let myself cry on her shoulders. Strange how I was starting to grow used to this now—finding comfort from others. Not just bottling it all up.

  She pulled back but held my upper arms. “I’m proud of you, you know,” she said. “You’ve gone through a hell most of us will never experience. But here you are. Despite all your challenges, you’re going to college. You have a great job you love. You’re working on music.”

  Her words were a balm; tension seeped from my knotted shoulders, and my stomach stopped clenching. In her eyes, I didn’t see judgment over how I’d handled things with Daniel, how I’d been trying to cope with my life. There was no awkward pity or deep sadness that would make me want to run.