“Oh, come on. Why else would you have stayed? When I asked you why you weren’t moving to Ohio you said it was because of me!”
I thought back to our conversation that night in the car. I’d kept repeating how much I loved him because I thought he was upset about us not having sex. But the whole time he was freaked out about how much I supposedly loved him.
I’m all yours, I’d said.
Oh God.
“I was trying to make you feel good.” I had said what I’d said because I was trying to make him feel needed, to feel loved. “It wasn’t about you.”
It was about everything. School. Him. Marissa. Vi. My life. Moving to Ohio meant saying good-bye to everything and I hadn’t been able to do that.
Leaving Westport was scary. Everyone else had moved away and moved on. But I couldn’t.
“It wasn’t only you,” I said. “I think I was afraid to move on.”
As I said it, I realized it was true. Maybe being afraid to leave wasn’t about Noah or Marissa or Vi or school. Maybe it was about everything that had happened over the past few years. Maybe it was about me not wanting anything else to change.
“I thought it was because of us,” he said. “And I wanted you to stay. I wanted to be with you. But it just felt . . . big. Heavy. I felt trapped. If you were choosing me over your family . . . I had to be worth it.”
I looked at him. “So you chose to prove your worthiness by sleeping with someone else?”
“I just freaked out. With Lily there was no bigger meaning. I should have told you before you and I slept together. I kept wanting to tell you. But then things were so good with us and I thought I could just forget it ever happened.”
“If only you hadn’t given me a disease.”
“It was stupid. I don’t know why I did it. Things with us felt complicated and this was just easy.”
“She was easy,” I said, and then wished I could take it back. It wasn’t her fault. It was, obviously, but she’s not the one who owed me anything. She owed me nothing. He’d owed me more. “No, I take that back. It wasn’t her fault. It’s yours.”
“I know it’s my fault. Can you ever forgive me?”
I looked up at him. The guy I had loved. Loved more than anything. He’d freaked out. Felt cornered. Reacted. Could I forgive him? Then nothing would have to change.
His cheeks were bright red. His eyes were wet.
Maybe if he’d told me after it happened. Before we’d had sex. But it was too late. “No,” I said. “I can’t.”
I got off the bench and walked away.
ON THE ROAD
I put the key in the ignition and drove. And turned. And then turned again. I stopped the car in the middle of the street. Where the hell was I supposed to go? My boyfriend was a cheating bastard. My roommate thought I was an idiot and a bitch. My best friend lied to me.
I had nothing here. Nothing left.
How was I going to go back to school? How could I face any of them? Hudson knew about the chlamydia. Corinne probably did too now, after putting together the pieces of what I said. I wished I had moved to Ohio.
Maybe I was wrong all along.
Maybe I should have moved.
Maybe I would be better off in Cleveland.
I stared at the stop sign in front of my car. Yes. Cleveland. That’s what I had to do. Move. Move right now. I didn’t even have to say good-bye to anyone. I’d just go. I’d fly back with my dad tomorrow. I could start school there on Monday. Who needed Westport? I didn’t.
My heart started to flutter. It wasn’t even that crazy. Most of my classes were AP classes. They’d be easy to transfer.
I took out my cell. “Dad,” I said. “Daddy, I have to talk to you. It’s important. Where are you?” At least someone will be happy with what I have to say. He’ll want me. I’m wanted in Cleveland.
“Hi, Princess! I just dropped Penny off at the salon. I’m going to do some Westport errands before picking her up and driving back to the city.”
“Dad. Listen. I changed my mind. I want to move to Cleveland.”
He laughed. “What?”
“I want to come. Now. Tomorrow. I don’t want to be in Westport anymore.”
I waited for the joy. “April. You’re almost done with the year.”
What? That wasn’t joy. “I know. And I want to finish the year in Cleveland.” My voice felt strange.
“But you’re so happy at Suzanne’s! I don’t understand.”
“I’m not happy at Suzanne’s,” I said. “I’m not. I want to leave. I need to leave.”
“Come on. You can’t move now.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the middle of the semester!”
“But you wanted me to move in the middle of the year a few months ago!”
“January is not the same thing as April. You only have two and a half more months of school.”
What was his problem?
“Look, Princess, this is a big decision. Why don’t you sleep on it? I bet you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
My head started to spin. Why did my dad sound like he didn’t want me? I gripped the phone tighter.
Because he didn’t want me.
He was happy with his new life. Just him and Penny. No sullen teenager to ruin the mood, or share a wall with. He finally had a clean slate.
And I spent the last three months trying to stop him from dragging me to Cleveland . . . when he never would have.
Well, happy birthday to me.
“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice breaking. “I thought you wanted me to come.”
“I do want you to come. Of course I do. But Penny just turned the second bedroom into a studio. She’s painting again, you know.”
I couldn’t move in with them because my stepmom needed her art studio. “Don’t you have three bedrooms?”
“Yes, but the guest bedroom just has the pull-out couch and all our gym equipment. . . .”
“Where’s the canopy bed?” I asked.
“We didn’t have a place for it. So we gave it to Penny’s niece.” My father coughed. “April, we’re getting you your own apartment. That’s what you wanted.”
“I did,” I said. I had wanted it. Hadn’t I? I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew that I didn’t want to feel like this.
Abandoned.
Dirty.
Unwanted.
Left behind.
Like everyone had their own lives—lives that didn’t include me.
“So you don’t want me to move to Cleveland,” I said.
“Of course we want you to,” he said. “But right now . . . it’s just not practical.”
My cheeks were wet. I didn’t want him to be practical. I wanted him to say he wanted me with him. I wanted him to say he couldn’t live without me. But I knew he wouldn’t. He could live without me. He could live without my mom. My brother. Me. Everyone could live without me.
“If you still want to live with us after the school year we’ll figure it out.”
Honk!
“Uh-huh,” I said, choking on my tears.
“Maybe we can get Penny a separate studio. Or we’ve been thinking about renovating the basement.”
Honk, honk, honk!
“I have to go.” I hung up and hit the gas. I didn’t know where to, but I had to get away from here.
HOME, AGAIN
The key was still under the mat. Was it considered breaking and entering if I used a key? Also, if no one was living there? I had driven around until almost seven and then somehow ended up here. The FOR SALE sign was still displayed on the front lawn.
So what if I had nowhere else to go? I was going to live right here. The one place I felt right. 32 Oakbrook Road. I turned the key in the door and opened it. “Hello?” I said, just in case. My voice echoed through the house. No one answered. The den looked smaller than I remembered it. Once upon a time the four of us had sat here on a green couch covered in stitched white circles and watched TV. Now the room w
as empty.
The walls were a pale yellow. Had they always been yellow? I didn’t think so. I couldn’t remember. I went upstairs to my room. My empty room. My cherry wallpaper was gone. My bed was gone. My carpet had been replaced. But it was still my room, damn it.
I sat down on the floor, and leaned my head against my wall and looked out my window.
My cell rang. I glanced at the caller ID.
My mother. Fantastic.
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear April—”
“Mom. Just stop.”
“Why? What’s wrong? It’s your birthday!”
“It’s been a bad day.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okaaaaay. April, have you looked at dates for the summer? We need to get you a ticket before they—”
“I am not coming to France!” I yelled. My voice echoed in my empty room. Even though I had nowhere to go, I would still not go to France.
Silence. “You mean this summer?”
“I mean ever.”
“You’re being crazy.”
Maybe. But I was still mad at her. “It’s not like you really care if I come.”
“Of course I care!”
“If you wanted me there you would have made me move in the first place.”
She took a breath. “You didn’t want to come. You wanted to stay with your friends. With Noah. I wanted you to be happy.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You were already so mad at me . . . what was I supposed to do? Force you to come?”
Yes. No. I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted her to say I had to come with her no matter what. That she couldn’t live without me. I wanted to be with my dad. I wanted to be with my friends. With Noah. With Hudson. I wanted to be with Matthew. I wanted my mom here. In this house. I wanted to be with them in France. I wanted a million things that were all jumbled together.
“Maybe that’s what I should have done,” she continued softly. “Forced you to come.”
“Better than leaving me by myself,” I snapped.
“I left you with your father. You were supposed to be with your father.” She sounded like she was crying. “I just wanted you to be happy,” she repeated.
“I’m not happy.”
“Then come. Please. I love you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s too late,” I said. “I have to go.” I hung up. I turned the power off and threw my phone across the empty room.
ANOTHER BREAK-IN
It was two in the morning. I was in a strange house, lying on my old floor, staring at the ceiling. After I’d explored the house, I’d returned to my room and stared at the ceiling and cried. Then I’d fallen asleep.
I hadn’t eaten since brunch, but I wasn’t hungry. I was tired. Bone tired. And sad. And depressed. The bottomless black hole was lurking. And I really, really had to use the bathroom.
But what if it burned when I peed?
I knew I was being stupid sitting—lying—here, but I wanted to see how long I could stay. If I could do it. If I could just disappear. Sink into the black hole. Some real estate broker would find me next month, nibbled on by mice.
Knock. Knock, knock, knock.
Was that someone at the front door? Obviously I couldn’t answer it. But why would someone be knocking at the door of an empty house in the middle of the night? It was probably a branch. Or a cat. Maybe it was my imagination. Stop imaginary knocking, stop!
It stopped.
Now it was just me and my house. All alone. The way we liked it. I tried to close my eyes again. But I really had to pee. The moonlight had lit up the room, but the rest of the house would be dark. Would I still remember the way? And did I have tissues in my bag? I stood up, stretching my arms above my head. When I reached my doorway, I felt the walls in the pitch blackness and moved down the hallway. As I moved deeper in, the darkness enveloped me. I held my purse close to steady myself. I think the bathroom was just a few steps up. . . . There was a window in the bathroom, wasn’t there? There’d be moonlight?
There was another creak from downstairs. And what sounded like a door opening. Was someone else in the house? How was that possible? Did someone else know about the key? No. The key was in my pocket. But had I locked the door behind me? I couldn’t remember. I definitely didn’t remember locking it. Oh, jeez. My heart started to pound. Did other people use this house as a free place to crash? Had a crazy person seen me come in and was now going to kill me? There were whispers. Whispers everywhere. I had to be imagining it. Houses made noises. Especially old houses. I just wished it wasn’t so dark in here.
Creak. More whispers. If only I hadn’t watched so many episodes of Vampire Nights. Maybe it was Zelda. She had followed me here. Hi, Zelda!
Clearly, I was losing my mind. Didn’t chlamydia make you go crazy? I remembered something about that from health class. No. I think that was syphilis.
Maybe I had that too.
Now the stairs were creaking. What was I doing in an abandoned house in the middle of the night? Asking to be murdered? If only I had a flashlight. But who carried a flashlight with her? There was one in my car. But what good would that do? Thanks a lot, Dad. You almost had my back. My cell. I had my cell! I would turn on my phone and there would be light and the noises would stop. I reached into my purse and pressed the ON button. Ta-da!
A face lit up in front of me.
I screamed.
She screamed.
“Jesus Christ,” the voice said. “It’s just me.”
Vi.
The downstairs lights turned on. “Hey,” Marissa said. “That’s better.”
I blinked. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Finding you,” Lucy said, coming out of the kitchen.
“But . . . but . . . how did you know where I was?” I sputtered.
“You’re not that complicated,” Vi said, and rolled her eyes.
GROUP HUG, LUCY TOO
We sat in my old room, eating donuts. Mine had sprinkles. I hadn’t realized how starving I was until I’d bit into the gooey deliciousness.
“I broke up with him,” I told them. “He admitted it. He slept with someone else. And lied about it. My birthday was officially the worst birthday ever. How about that? I discovered the only thing worse than crappy things happening the day after your birthday—crappy things happening on your birthday.”
“True,” Marissa said. “But you know what that means?”
“What?”
“That the day-after-birthday curse has been broken,” Lucy said.
I shrugged. “But today isn’t over yet. It just started.”
“No,” Vi declared. “The curse is over.”
“I agree,” Lucy said. “You’re in the clear.”
I took another bite. Maybe they were right. “I can’t believe you guys found me.”
“Vi and I both thought of it at the same time,” Marissa said.
“But why were you awake?”
Vi snorted. “We weren’t going to go to sleep with you missing. We almost sent out an AMBER Alert.”
“I went over after you left my house but Vi said you weren’t home,” Marissa said. “So I decided to wait for you.”
“We called you a million times,” Lucy jumped in. “Hudson and Dean came over too. They think Noah is a total tool.”
“I think they always did,” Vi said.
Marissa nodded. “Well, Hudson looked like he was ready to drive over to Noah’s and run him over.”
“Dean heard the rumor at the party,” Vi said. “I guess Brett told someone who told someone who . . . anyway. Dean kept muttering how Noah didn’t deserve you, but I assumed it was because his brother had the hots for you. I tore him a new one for not informing me immediately, but he didn’t want to ruin your birthday.”
I remembered how Hudson had been interrupted this morning. “I think Hudson was trying to tell me.”
“
Hudson was very worried about you,” Vi added. “He really cares about you.”
“We all do,” Marissa said. “Your mom was really worried too. She called the house phone five times.”
She had?
I turned on my cell. I had many messages. Including texts from Marissa, Hudson, and Vi.
I looked up at Vi. “You were right this morning. I was lying to myself. And I’m sorry I said what I said.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, well, you were right about me too. My mother is a flake.” She looked at Lucy and then at Marissa. “And I need to stop playing games with Dean. Before I lose him for good. And I am a control freak.”
“Can we talk about the workout DVDs in the middle of the night?” Marissa asked. “Because I think that needs to be mentioned.”
Vi banged her head against the wall. “I’m full of crazy, huh?”
“We’re all full of crazy,” I said. “I broke into my old house and almost peed on the floor. But I do wonder why you feel the need to do HardCore3000 at three in the morning.”
“I don’t know,” Vi said, shrugging. “It makes me feel less anxious.”
“So would sleep,” Lucy said.
“I think you should talk to Lucy’s mom,” Marissa said to me and Vi. “Both of you.”
Lucy groaned. “Seriously? My mom?”
“She is a social worker,” Marissa said. “I’m guessing she knows how to deal with all this stuff.”
“She does,” Lucy said. “She’s just so . . . earnest. And annoying.”
“No kidding,” I said. “She got me a ten o’clock curfew.” I pointed at Lucy. “You got me a ten o’clock curfew.”
Lucy hid her face in her hands. “I know, I know, I’m sorry about that. I was a complete ass, but I wasn’t trying to rat you out. I was trying to persuade her to move back to New York. She was so convinced that kids here were clean-cut and perfect so I took the video to scare her into going back to the city. Which did not work. Obviously.”
I thought about how Lucy’s mom had done exactly what my parents hadn’t. Dragged her along. Sorry you’re not happy about the decision, but tough, I’m moving to Westport and that means you too, kid.
I thought back to my conversation with my mother. I kind of wished my parents had said that to me.
Ten Things We Did (and Probably Shouldn't Have) Page 24