by Zac Brewer
“It’s just . . . She’s taken a turn for the worse. I wanted to see Claire tonight, because I don’t think I’ll be at school much soon. Very soon, if the doctors are right. And I don’t want anything to go unsaid.” He met my eyes, hoping I got what he was trying to convey to me. “Y’know?”
I knew. I understood every word that Michael was saying, along with every word that he wasn’t saying. Samantha was dying. And he needed a moment to really live his life before his baby sister’s death wrapped him up in a cocoon of misery and mourning.
I fought back tears. Tears for Samantha. Tears for their family. Tears for Michael and all the pain that he must have been experiencing. Then I hugged him and said, “I’m here for you. Just know that, okay? If you ever need to talk, you can call me anytime you need.”
“Thanks, Brooke. You’re a good friend.”
As we parted, I saw Derek approaching. Drying my eyes, I said to Michael, “Hey, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Derek.”
The next few seconds were a blur. Derek had stepped hard toward Michael, and then his arm was flying through the air. Time broke down into flashes of movement. Derek’s fist connecting with Michael’s face. Michael’s head thrown back from the blow. Blood spattering from his nose.
Once time began running normally again, I realized that Tucker had pulled Derek off Michael, who was leaning on the railing of the loft, his head bent down, blood dripping onto the floor. As Tucker pulled Derek away, Derek wrenched back toward Michael, pointing at him and growling, “You touch her again, I’ll knock your damn teeth outta your head.”
My feet were frozen to the floor. I was aware of the colors and sounds, but it felt as if my world had shattered. Duckie tried to put his arms around me, but I pushed him away and made my way down the stairs, after Tucker and Derek. When I got outside, Duckie not long after me, Tucker was standing near the door. Derek was pacing back and forth outside, cursing under his breath.
When I tried to approach him, Tucker reached out to stop me, but Duckie shook his head. I shoved at Derek’s right shoulder. “Derek, what the hell was that?”
His chest rose and fell quickly, and he shouted at me. I wondered if his dad sounded like this when he got mad. “Jesus, Brooke. That guy was trying to screw you! How can you not see that?”
I’d never had anyone shout at me like that. Not with fury in their eyes and blood on their mind. It scared me. But more than anything, it gave me a bit of clarity. “That’s it. I’m done. Duckie, take me home.”
Derek stopped pacing at last, as if he could talk some sense into me. But I wasn’t the one missing any sense at the moment. He said, “Brooke . . .”
“No. I am done, Derek. We are over.” I walked over to the Beast. Derek came after me, but Tucker blocked his path. I don’t know what Tucker said to him, but Derek eventually nodded and went back inside the house. Tucker and Duckie joined me by the car. Once the doors were unlocked, we all climbed inside in absolute, horrified silence.
No one said a word the entire ride back to my house.
Mostly because there was nothing to be said.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It had been days since I’d told Derek that it was over, and just when I thought I was out of tears, that my emotional well had run dry, I started crying again. There was a pile of tissues surrounding the trash can in Dr. Daniels’s office, and several more tissues inside of it. Which meant both that I was a seriously crappy shot and that I’d broken my rule of not crying inside a therapist’s office. The doc handed me a new tissue and said, “Does Derek have a history of violence?”
“No.” I didn’t bring up Derek’s dad’s abuse. That was his dad’s history of violence, not his.
“What about jealousy?”
I blew my nose and threw another tissue into the trash can. Swish. “He thought Duckie and I were hooking up. But I told him we weren’t.”
The doc was sitting across from me, his tone caring and concerned. “He didn’t believe you?”
“No. That’s actually why we went to the party. So I could show him that I had nothing to hide from him. And then he just lost it.” Tears streaked my cheeks. All I could see when I closed my eyes were the droplets of blood that had flown through the air after Derek’s fist had connected. “I shouldn’t have hugged Michael.”
“Why do you say that?”
The nightmare of the droplets of blood gave way to the image of Michael hanging his head as more blood poured from his face to the floor. And for what? For my shitty timing, that’s what. “Because it was loud in there, and Derek couldn’t hear our interaction to tell we were just friends. And I didn’t explain who Michael was before I stepped away from Derek and hugged him. No wonder Derek thought I was fooling around.”
“That’s not fair to you, Brooke.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, folding his fingers together. “Just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean that anyone has the right to lay their hands on anyone else because they have a jealous streak. Derek was in the wrong here.”
“Then why do I feel so guilty?” Another bout of sobbing came on and I cried hard for a full minute before the doc handed me some more tissues and I could calm down enough to continue our discussion.
“Maybe because you’re searching for a reason to forgive him so that you can be with him again.” He glanced out the window, and when he looked back at me, I could see that this wasn’t just advice from the therapist in him. The doc could relate on a personal level. Seemingly without being aware of it, he fiddled with the gold band that was on his left ring finger once again and said, “Stranger things have happened.”
I dried my eyes, still sniffling. “What happened to you, anyway?”
Realizing that I was gesturing to his wedding ring with my eyes, he sat up straight in his chair. “That’s not an appropriate subject between a therapist and a patient.”
“Come on, doc. I’ll show you my wounds if you show me yours.”
He paused. Noticeably. “It doesn’t work that way.”
It was my turn to lean forward, closing the space between us. “Please. I want to know.”
The doc sat there for a good, long time, eyeing the ring on his finger and obviously debating how much was ethical to share with me. Finally, he said, “My wife of ten years had an affair with her boss. It lasted three years before I caught them. She moved out six months ago, and I still find myself lying awake at night, wondering what I did to drive her away.” He looked into my eyes. “But it wasn’t my fault that she made poor decisions, Brooke. Just like it isn’t your fault that Derek lost his temper in a fit of jealousy and punched an innocent guy.”
The doc was all right. Human, even. “I wish I didn’t miss him so much. I wish I hated him. It would be easier. Y’know?”
“Yes, I do.”
The Monopoly board on the table between us was spattered with wet spots from all my tears. “I’m sorry I cried all over the bank.”
“That’s okay. It’ll dry out. No big deal.” The doc smiled at me. Maybe he felt better about his own situation now that he’d said something. I know I felt a bit better about mine. We’d both begun picking up the game and putting the pieces of it back into the box when the doc said, “Listen. I think it would be best if you take some time to focus on yourself and your mental health. Give this thing with Derek some distance. Can you do that?”
“I can try.”
“Good.” Pausing with a stack of Community Chest cards in his hand, he looked at me. “Do you think that Derek would ever try to physically hurt you?”
“No.” Of course he wouldn’t. Derek loved me. I was sure of it.
“Okay then.” Once the game was put away, we both stood, and he offered me a raised eyebrow. “Next week? Same bat time, same bat channel?”
“As long as I get to be the top-hat-wearing thimble, then yeah.” A chuckle escaped me, surprising me. It felt wrong somehow to laugh at all when you were in pain. There was a strange sense of guilt that came with it.
As I walked out of Dr. Daniels’s office, my phone buzzed with a text. When I looked at the screen, my heart ached. It was from Derek. Apparently he’d gotten a new phone.
I miss you.
Holding the phone in my hand, I stared at the words and thought about the space that the doc had urged me to take. Derek texted again.
I’m sorry.
I slid my phone into my pocket without answering.
The doc was right. I needed my space.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Change was difficult, but I took the doc’s advice and made some time to focus on myself and put all the stuff with Derek in a box at the back of my mind. Luckily, the play was an incredible distraction. Michael was looking over a table full of various creams and powders. His face was still bruised and swollen, and every time I looked at him, I wanted to cry and apologize for Derek’s outburst. But I got the distinct impression that Michael didn’t want that. He wasn’t mad at me. He was just hurt and probably pretty scared that Derek might do something like that again.
He pointed to one jar and said, “What about this shade of pancake for Romeo’s face?”
I picked up the one next to it. “Tucker has pretty tan skin. I think this might work better. Don’t you think?”
He nodded. “You’re right. Now if we can just get his lips covered . . . or is that the Duckman’s department?”
We shared a chuckle, and after, I said, “Listen. Michael, I’m sorry about Derek.”
“Brooke. Don’t. Okay? It’s not your fault.” His eyes held the deepest sincerity. “But I’d think twice about hanging around a guy like that. What if he’d hurt you instead of me?”
“I can handle Derek.”
“I couldn’t.”
Things got quiet between us for a while. Eventually, I went over and helped out the set builders before running lines with a few of the actors. That was something about theater—even if you didn’t get along or hang out on the outside of it, when you were one of us, you were one of our own. It was a real sense of family.
At least I wasn’t invisible at rehearsal. I was tangible. It felt nice.
I also wasn’t feeling such despair. Despite my problems with Derek, I was feeling pretty light on my feet. Suddenly hope seemed like something more than just bullshit. It seemed real. And I had it.
Duckie ran up to me, a look of utter joy plastered on his face. “Did you see the costume I’m going to be wearing?”
“I just did! It’s hot, Duckie.”
“That’s what Tucker said.” If it had been possible for cartoon hearts to float out of his ears, they would have. It was adorably annoying.
“We should go to a Renaissance festival in costume sometime.” Right after I said it, Duckie’s face brightened even more. I blinked at him. “What? It’s not exactly a big stretch for us to go from stage to jousting tournaments.”
“It’s just nice to hear you making plans for the future, that’s all.”
A smile settled on my lips. It felt nice too. “Oh, hey, I forgot my backpack in my locker earlier. Can you distract the powers that be while I grab it?”
“No problem.”
Duckie was the best.
I navigated my way through the halls to my locker. When I reached it, my heart sank into my stomach. Sticking out of it was a small, black envelope. The note inside wasn’t signed, but I knew it was from Derek. In silver text, it read simply, “I love you.”
Missing Derek was hard. Loving him had been so easy. How had we come to this?
When I got back to the gym, I was going to tell Duckie, but he and Tucker were standing so close. The rest of the world didn’t exist for them in that moment. Just each other. They looked so happy, and I wasn’t about to intrude on that.
As I walked past them to the makeup station, Duckie said, “Hey, are you okay?”
I gave him a false smile and shrugged but kept walking. “Yeah, fine.”
The rest of practice flew by in a haze.
By the time we got home that night, my mom and dad had already loaded their bags into the car. It had taken Dad a lot of convincing Mom that I’d be fine with only Duckie there to keep me company, but he’d triumphed, to my great relief. I was barely out of the Beast when Mom hugged me super tight. “Oh, sweetie, are you sure you’ll be all right?”
Behind her, Dad rolled his eyes in a playful way.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not like I’ll be alone.”
Duckie shut the driver’s door of the Beast and beamed. Mom wrung her hands a bit, but finally Dad said, “Come on, Joanne. We’re going to be late. We have our phones if they need anything.”
“Okay.” She said it, but I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to herself or us. “Okay, this’ll be fine.”
Dad opened her door and practically had to shove her into the car. As he walked around to get into the driver’s seat, she looked out the open window at me. “All the contact and emergency numbers are on the fridge. Call if you need anything. Even if you just feel like talking, okay?”
“Have fun!” Duckie waved, and Dad pulled the car out of the driveway. Once they were out of sight, the Duckman and I exchanged eye rolls. He said, “Dude. That was annoyingly painful. Movie time?”
“Movie time.”
Twenty minutes later, once we’d settled in my room with a pile of DVDs to pick from, he flopped on my bed and said, “So why’d you lie to me earlier?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were fine. Well, fine-ish. And then you weren’t. Why?”
Reaching into my backpack, I retrieved Derek’s note and handed it to Duckie. “I found this in my locker.”
After Duckie read it, he returned it to me. There was something in his eyes that I hadn’t often seen in the years since we’d been friends. Absolute anger. “Do you want me to tell him to knock it off?”
“No. I just miss him.” I returned the note to my backpack and dropped it on the floor next to my desk. “I mean, I know he has a temper. But I miss him.”
Duckie appeared to be doing all he could to remain calm and not shake me senseless. “You miss him, and that’s totally okay. But Brooke, the guy attacked Michael for no reason. Not to mention getting kicked out of school for roughing up Eric Squires over writing on your locker.”
“He thought he was protecting me.” I could hear the excuses, my defense of Derek, leaving my mouth. But even I didn’t believe them anymore. How could I love someone who was capable of such things? What did that say about me?
Duckie was finished treating me with kid gloves. “So what happens the day you seriously piss him off? Is he going to hit you too?”
Confidently, I said, “He wouldn’t do that. Derek would never hurt me.”
“You sure? Because I’m not.” I knew his words came from a place of concern, but I didn’t want to hear them.
“Let’s just watch the movie,” I said, putting in the High Fidelity DVD. We almost made it all the way through too, but at some point, our busy day of rehearsal and the long week caught up to us, and we dozed off before the credits rolled. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Duckie stirred and moved out of the room. He probably had to pee or something. As my eyes began to flutter closed once again, I noticed something on the window. It looked like words.
Slowly, I approached the dew-covered glass. Written in the moisture were the words “I need you. Forgive me.”
My heart was thumping loudly in my ears. Had Derek been watching me? Watching us? On the other side of the glass on the windowsill lay a red rose. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering when Duckie would return. Soon, I imagined. I reached up and unlocked the window. Slowly, I pulled it open and stretched my hand out, picking up the rose.
A hand closed over my wrist, and I jumped with a yelp.
“Shh. It’s just me.” Derek smiled at me. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was hoping we could talk.”
I stepped back from the window. As Derek crawled into my room, I said, �
�Derek! You shouldn’t be here. You should go.”
Duckie had left the room only a moment ago. What would he say when he came back to find Derek in my room? Would he tell my parents?
Derek held his hands palms up, his wide eyes full of pain and looking underslept. “I miss you. I’m sorry. I’ve screwed things up so badly between us, and I want to make it right. Please. Give me a chance to prove my love to you.”
The doc’s advice echoed in the back of my mind. “I think I need some time. Some space to think things over.”
“What’s to think about?” He took a step toward me, and when I took a step back, he looked hurt and confused. “Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Of course I do.” And I did. I’d never lie to him about something so important. “I’m just feeling a little . . . I don’t know.”
“I never meant to hurt you. Just like I’m sure you never meant to hurt me. I just . . . I need you in my life, Brooke. I can’t stand the idea of losing you. You’re my . . . my everything.” He moved closer, slowly, and I fought to remain where I was standing.
As he brushed my hair away from my neck and placed a kiss on my collarbone, I said, “Derek, you need to go.”
He stood straight, his shoulders looming over me, his eyes darkening. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you talk to me.”
“Get out. Please.”
Derek shook his head. When he spoke again, his voice boomed throughout my bedroom. I shuddered at the sound of it. “That’s not you talking. That’s everybody standing in our way, trying to keep us apart. Stop letting them do this to us!”
Duckie ran breathlessly into the room, his cell phone in hand. “Derek! Get the hell out of here before I call the cops. I mean it.”
At first, Derek didn’t move. Then he slowly made his way to the window and climbed onto the roof. Once he was out, he turned back and growled at me, his eyes fierce and frightening. “You have to forgive me eventually.”