by Ellie Wade
She nods. “Yeah, I think it is.”
“So, you haven’t either?” I ask her though I know the answer since she’s the one who made the statement.
“I don’t think so. What do you think the main difference is between the two?” she questions.
“I’m not entirely sure. But I’d say that, if you were in love with someone, the feeling would be reciprocated. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
Thanks to Leni’s game, we’ve both drunk way more beer than we probably should have. But I wonder if maybe she needed it to open up.
“Tell me about New York. Was it everything you wanted it to be?”
She thinks for a minute before answering, “It was great. So unlike here. It truly is like a completely different world, living there. The first month or so was pretty overwhelming. There are tons of people. Everyone’s always in a hurry. The first few weeks, it was hard to catch my breath. But, after a bit, I got into the flow of the city. All the busyness, the noise, the movements—there’s a cadence to it. You know? Once I figured out my rhythm, it was pretty awesome.”
“College was good?”
“College was the best. My professors were incredible. I learned so much, and it was special, being around those who loved art as much as I did.”
“And your friends?”
“I had a lot of friends. I really did.” She pauses and watches the fire for a moment. “I guess I thought my friendships were real, and maybe they were, but they were also shallow, too. It’s hard to explain. There are those people in your life who are meant to be there for a while. They have a certain purpose, specific to a time in your life. Then, you have your forever friends—the people who are in it for the long haul, no matter the circumstances. Now that I’m here, I realize they weren’t the latter. Truthfully, I don’t have any true lifelong friends.”
She shakes her head, and her face wears a sorrowful expression. “I don’t know how I got here, to this place where I don’t have anyone besides Mimi. I should have more at this point. I’ve been trying so hard, but I’m failing. There comes a point where I can’t keep blaming everyone else, and I have to stop and wonder what’s wrong with me.”
“You have me,” I tell her.
She turns her head, giving me a sad smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Well, that’s neither here or there because you have me. Always have, always will . . . my Leni girl.”
We both turn to face the flames of the fire. Leni leans her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her and pull her close.
“Are you happier here?” I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I love being with Mimi, and I’m glad we’re friends again. But I’m just unhappy.”
“Do your art. That always made you happy. Paint a picture or something.”
“I sold all my stuff to one of my roommates. Hundreds of dollars in supplies, and she got it all for fifty dollars.” She sighs. “Desperate times.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “It’s weird, being friends with adult Liam.”
“Why’s that?” I chuckle.
“Our conversations are so deep. Grown-up Liam and Leni are kinda downers—or at least, I am. We were cooler at eleven and twelve.”
“I was not cooler at twelve. God, that was an awkward year.” I think back. “And eleven-year-old Leni would have washed her own mouth out with soap after that game of Never Have I Ever.”
“Ha! True. Grown-up Leni has some perks.”
“Definite perks.”
Leni turns her face toward mine. She’s so close, I’m afraid she’s going to hear my heart pounding in my chest.
“Thank you for tonight. This Texas thing isn’t completely bad.”
“Leni love, it is now my mission as your newly reappointed best friend to make you fall in love”—her breath hitches, and she leans in closer—“with Texas again,” I finish my thought though it’s hard to focus on anything but her plump lips. I’ve dreamed of her lips more times than I can count.
Our faces are an inch apart, and my chest aches with the closeness. She’s even more beautiful by firelight. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, even if she decides to hate me again, I’ll have this memory of tonight. And, as far as nights go, it’s been pretty great.
“Len . . .” My voice is strained.
“Yeah?” she answers breathlessly and closes her eyes.
I imagine running my fingers through her hair and pulling her lips against mine, but I can’t. Not like this.
She needs a friend, I remind myself.
“I should walk you back,” I say on an exhale.
Her eyes snap open. “Oh, yeah. Okay. You’re probably right. My head’s kinda foggy.”
“Well, you can blame that feeling on your brilliant drinking game,” I tease as we start walking back toward the farmhouse.
She wraps her arm through mine and leans against me as we walk.
Right before she heads inside the house, I ask, “Len?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you promise me one thing?”
“What’s that?”
“Please don’t hate me again tomorrow.”
My question causes her lips to pout out.
She pins me with a serious stare. “I won’t.”
And, as she closes the door behind her, I really want to believe her.
Chapter Six
Leni
Thirteen Years Old
I HATE THEM. I HATE them. I hate them.
I glare toward the kitchen where my parents are talking. I don’t even attempt to hear what they’re saying. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t uttered a word to them in two weeks. I hope to never speak to them again. I’ll never forgive them.
Thinking about it now still makes me sick. I wipe an errant tear that insisted on falling.
I won’t cry.
I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I’ll never let them know how deeply they’ve shattered my heart. They can’t think they’ve won because they haven’t. I’ll never stop fighting until I’m out of here. I’m going to go to some fancy art school, and I’m going to be the best artist the world has ever seen.
I’ll show them.
Thank God I get to go to Mimi’s tomorrow. I suppose they could still take away Mimi’s if they wanted. If they do that, I might legitimately die of a broken heart.
“Come eat, Eleanora,” my mother calls from the dining room.
I begrudgingly walk to the dining room and take my seat. I pick at my dinner while my parents continue to talk.
My ears perk up when my mom starts talking about dance. We don’t talk much about her dancing days, but before she and my dad got together, she was a world-class ballerina. She gave up her dreams at his command.
You’d never have known that she’d worked her entire life to perfect her craft. I’ve seen the pictures. They’re all hidden away in a box in the guest bedroom closet, but I found them. There were years of pictures, newspaper articles, and Nutcracker programs. I also found my mother’s acceptance letter to Juilliard. Apparently, she only completed one year before she met my father. He was a few years older than her and already on his way to establishing his political career. They met at a gala to raise money for the arts. Ironic, seeing that he demanded she leave Juilliard and marry him.
Also ironic is the fact that he had my entire art studio thrown out just two weeks ago because I refused to skip Mimi’s this year to go to a snobby equestrian camp. I don’t even ride horses. One of his colleague’s daughters is going, and he wants an in with the family. I don’t care whom my father associates with, but he’s not going to take me away from Mimi to accomplish it.
My mother continues, her voice cheerful, “So, Carol asked if I’d be interested in teaching one of the beginning classes. It would only be twice a week. I think it’d be nice to be back in the dance world for a bit.”
“No,” my father says plainly. “Yo
u’re not a child anymore, Nora. I’ve got too much going on right now that you should be helping with. I don’t have time for you to hop around a room in a tutu like an idiot twice a week.”
My mother grins toward my dad. “No, you’re absolutely right. We’re much too busy. I’ll tell Carol no.”
I break my two-week-silence strike. “No! Mom, no! You should do this. It would be so fun.”
I shouldn’t care about my mom’s happiness because she makes it clear daily that she doesn’t care about mine. Yet I couldn’t keep quiet. My dad’s wrong.
“Eleanora!” my dad barks. “Enough.”
“No, Dad. This is isn’t right. Mom used to love to dance. Two nights a week is nothing. It would make her happy,” I plead.
“No one asked for your opinion. When you’re an adult, you’ll understand. Being a grown-up means making grown-up decisions,” he sternly tells me.
“He’s right. It was a silly idea. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Mom says.
I just shake my head. I want to fight for my mom, but there’s no use when she won’t even stick up for herself. The conversation between my parents shifts to focus back on my father.
After a bit, my mom places her hand over my father’s. “Would you like dessert, sweetie?”
He nods.
She gets up from the table, and before she clears my father’s plate, she kisses him on the top of the head. She’s always so nice to him, showing affection or telling him that she loves him. I don’t know how she could. He’s evil.
I think, a long time ago, before I was born, my mom was cool. I mean, she was a dancer. But then she fell in love, and now, she’s this person who makes me sick.
I’m never falling in love—like, ever. All love does is change you and hurt you. I’ll never be like my mom. I’ll never stop loving myself so that I can love another. Never.
***
I run up to Mimi and throw my arms around her. I’ve never been so happy to see her in my life. I barely made it through the past nine months without her. I couldn’t have made it much longer.
My mother is backing out of the drive before I even get my luggage inside. I watch her Lexus pull away and can’t help but feel sad. I wish she were more—like a better mom to start with. My sadness is short-lived as Mimi wraps her arm around me, and we take my last bag inside. Yeah, so I have crappy parents, but I’d never trade my Mimi for good ones.
There’s a spread of goodness across the table that would rival any Thanksgiving feast. Mimi has made all my favorites.
“Oh my gosh! This all looks amazing. I’ve missed your cooking.” I tightly hug her.
“I can tell, my dear. You’re too skinny,” Mimi kids.
“You would be, too, if you had to eat Mom’s healthy, bland crap.”
We sit down at the table.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Mimi attempts to throw my mother some kindness that she doesn’t deserve.
I lower my gaze and stare at her until she starts laughing.
“Okay, I’m sure it’s bad.” She laughs, and I giggle along with her. “So, tell me everything! What was seventh grade like? I want all the juicy details.”
We talk for hours at the kitchen table. I tell her all about my boring private school and my horrible parents. Her smile fades when I tell her some of the things, like how my parents threw out all my art supplies. I know that I should probably keep some of the details to myself. I don’t like hurting Mimi, and I know she feels helpless when I’m at home, but at the same time, I really need to talk to someone about everything. My relationship with Mimi is the sole reason that I’m somewhat sane.
Mimi is dishing up some peach cobbler in the kitchen. “You know, I was thinking that I need to redecorate the living room. Do you think you could help me? I was hoping we could go into town to get some canvases and paint, so you could create some artwork for the new space.”
“Yes! I would love that! I can do a really good job.”
She sets the bowl of cobbler and vanilla ice cream down in front of me and pats my hand. “Oh, I know you will. You are incredible, Leni girl. Don’t you forget it.”
After I’ve eaten all that I can eat, I ask Mimi if I can go see Liam. Besides Mimi, he’s the only other person who truly gets me.
Mimi tells me to go, and so I do. Sprinting across Mimi’s land toward Liam’s with a full belly gives me a huge cramp, but I don’t mind because nothing could spoil today. I see him out in the pasture, working on a fence.
His eyes gleam, and his lips turn up into a huge grin when he sees me. He’s just turned toward me when I jump into his arms. He spins me around, and I laugh. After he puts me down, I really take him in. I can’t believe how different he looks. He’s going to be fourteen next week, but he looks like . . . I don’t know . . . a college kid or something. His chest is wider, and his arm muscles seem bigger. His face looks older, like he lost some of his cheeks or something. It’s weird, and it makes my belly feel uneasy.
“Are you okay?” He chuckles. “You’re staring at me with your mouth open.”
I blink hard. “Sorry. I was just thinking about how different you look since last year.”
“Oh, yeah? You look different, too.”
“Good different?” I ask.
“Oh, definitely.”
He shoots me a cute smirk, and it does something to me. I can feel my heart beating hard within my chest. It’s like I’m nervous, but I’m never nervous around Liam.
“I’m all done here. Do you want to go swimming in the river?” he asks.
Liam and I spend a lot of our free time in the summers playing in the Llano River. It’s such a hot day, and swimming sounds amazing.
“Yes! Let me run home and get my bathing suit.”
“Okay. I’ll swing by in a minute, and we’ll go.” He picks up his box of tools and heads toward the barn.
I run back across the field to Mimi’s and rifle through my suitcase for my new swimsuit. My mom said she picked me up one at the mall this week and packed it. My jaw drops when I pull it out of the suitcase.
It’s official. My mom hates me.
I put on the bikini before looking at myself in the full-length mirror in my bedroom.
Seriously?
The top is two triangles that cover my boobs, tied together with elastic string.
Why would she do this to me?
This is my first summer with real boobs, like I-need-a-supportive-bra boobs. Gone are the trainer-bra boobs of last summer.
I miss my trainer-bra boobs.
I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to cry.
Did she do this to embarrass me?
I shake my head. Even my mom isn’t that cruel. She seemed genuinely excited when she told me she got me a new swimsuit. She said that I’d love the pattern and style. It’s no surprise that my mother doesn’t know me at all.
I hear a man downstairs, talking to Mimi. I open my bedroom door a crack to listen and realize that it’s Liam. God, even his voice has changed. I throw on a baggy T-shirt over my suit and slip on my flip-flops before making my way downstairs.
“You kids have fun. Wear your sunscreen, Leni,” Mimi reminds me.
“I will,” I say before giving her a hug.
Once we’re at the river, I take a deep breath and remove my T-shirt.
He’s your friend. He’s not going to care that you have major boobs now. Just like you don’t care that he’s all muscly, I give myself an internal pep talk.
I can feel Liam’s stare on me, but I pretend that I don’t. I squirt the sunscreen lotion onto my arms and rub it in.
“Want me to get your back?” Liam asks.
My head pops up. He is standing before me in his swim trunks. His chest is tan, and his muscles are defined. His deep brown eyes capture mine, and I can’t deny the feelings they stir within me.
Liam has applied sunscreen to my back and shoulders every time we’ve come to the river since I was young. His question isn’t an odd one, yet it l
eaves me feeling really uneasy.
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
I pull my hair to the side as Liam rubs his lotioned hands over my skin. I know he’s done this countless times, but it feels like this is the first. Every swipe of his palms makes my heart beat faster.
“All done,” he says cheerfully.
I turn to face him, and I can’t deny the fact that I want him to kiss me.
What? Where did that come from?
I’ve never kissed anyone in my life, and I certainly don’t want to kiss Liam.
“Are you okay?” He places his hand on my shoulder. “You seem different. What’d your parents do this time?”
I look into his eyes, so kind, and now, I’m realizing for the first time, they’re so beautiful. My bottom lip begins to quiver as realization dawns. I like Liam. I like him.
My eyes fill with tears, and Liam pulls me into a hug.
“Len, what is it?”
I allow Liam to hold me in his arms as I cry. My heart breaks as I sob in my stupid bikini with my stupid boobs and Liam’s stupid deep voice and handsome face.
Life is so unfair. I’ve never felt like this before, but I realize that this must be what falling in love feels like. I suppose I’m not surprised.
What did I expect?
My best friend is kind, funny, and gorgeous. Mix in the fact that he’s also a guy, and it’s a recipe for disaster. Dumb hormones. I totally realize that this is what my health teacher was talking about when she went on and on about hormones and changes and feelings.
I don’t want anything to change.
But everything’s changed.
Everything is ruined.
I can’t be Liam’s friend anymore. I can’t risk falling in love. I will never be my mother. I will never fall in love.
I look at Liam. “I’m an artist,” I sob. “I’m leaving Texas, and I’m never coming back.”
Liam stares at me, his eyes wide. He’s clearly at a loss for words.
“I’m not staying here. As soon as I can leave, I’m gone. I’m not going to change myself for anyone.” I cry, years of memories of my parents’ love invading my mind, and I shudder.
“Okay,” Liam says calmly. “It’s okay, Len. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” He rubs my back.