Ending a Broken Journey

by Melissa L. Delga

  “You can’t be serious.” My hands moved to my hips as I looked at him in disbelief.

  He straightened his posture and folded his arms across his chest, face still red and sweaty. “I’m dead serious. Cancel your plans, I don’t want them putting bullshit in your head about me. Every time you hang out with them you come back totally fucking different.”

  I’d been on the verge of tears because anger was the most prominent feeling that rose to the surface. The route the conversation had taken was completely unexpected.

  “Wes, I haven’t seen either of them in like…what? Two months? I’m not cancelling on them again.” I had to stand my ground on this one.

  “Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want to. You go out and party, or drink, or whatever it is you like to do with them. Go to a fucking bar for all I care. Go get hit on by guys, because clearly, I’m just not good enough for you,” he finished that last part over his shoulder as he walked into our bedroom.

  I stood there with my mouth dropped open in shock. Then, guiltily, I started to question the kind of girlfriend I was. Is that really what he thought? When I went out with my friends, it was to go out hunting for someone else? Like he was some sort of filler?

  With those questions floating around in my mind, I started to feel guiltier. So what did I do? I went to the bathroom, apologized to Wes for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough, and called Ade to cancel with the lame excuse of having had cramps. When I hung up the phone, I felt the lingering disappointment in her voice from the conversation and realized, in the span of simply ten minutes, I’d managed to ruin things, yet again.

  As much as I like being alone—because, let’s face it, being alone is the safest way I know how to be—I do tend to mess things up, so it’s nice to have people around every once in a while. No matter how disconnected I am from those who care about me, or those I trust— using the term trust lightly because it’s the hardest thing I can ever, or will ever, give someone new in my life again— it’s nice to be reminded that I am a person, and one day can believe I’m worth the worry and effort of caring for.

  I push off my front door, the only sound coming from my television down the hallway. I plop myself down and sink into my grey sectional. The ending credits to The Breakfast Club, my favorite movie of all time, roll along my flat screen. I realize tears have begun to stream down my face. Apparently, I didn’t know exactly how much I missed having Cass and Ade around. I see them almost every day now, sure, but even I can tell how strained being in my company can be. I’m very aware I can be a downer, and that I add practically nothing to most conversations. I’ve accepted these new Mackenzie qualities within me, but for the first time in a very long time, I think I’m starting to realize how it’s affecting others. Tonight was like a breath of fresh air; drinking wine, watching old movies, chatting about nothing. It was a nice, temporary replacement for the constant ache inside of me. And if for even just tonight, I feel the slightest bit of happiness. Perhaps that little glimpse can give me something positive to hold onto in the wake of everything else. For tonight, I tell myself I’m going to try to be better to them—to everyone in my life, really, because I’ve held on to so much with no explanation to anyone for so long. They deserve my efforts.

  With these thoughts wandering around in my brain, I shut off my DVD player and TV. Making sure everything is locked, I continue my nightly routine before heading to bed… alone.

  Although my epiphany is one of the few positive thoughts to brew in my head recently, alone is where I’m most comfortable; where I feel the safest.

  I WAKE UP feeling somewhat refreshed this morning. It’s been a full week of trying to have a better outlook, of being neighbors to the Dean Brothers, and of trying to hate myself a little less each day. So far, things are progressing at menial speeds. One day at a time is all I can expect from myself. Like any normal human being, my only reprieve is that some days are better than others.

  I sit up, stretching my arms in the air, and look at the clock. It reads six o’clock in the morning. I’m up before my alarm was supposed to go off. Yawning as I get out of bed, I grab my running clothes and start to get ready.

  As I lock my door to start my jog, a deep, amused male voice speaks behind me.

  “Good morning.”

  I turn around to see who I knew it would be this early on a Saturday morning—Jax. He discovered, on day two, my normal morning routine, and against my internal wishes, he volunteered his company…daily. Now that jogging together has kind of become a regular thing, I don’t know why I ever had an objection. It’s as if we picked up exactly where we left off.

  “Jaxon Dean!” I squealed out coming up for air. It was summertime in Florida—hot. With it being humid, a pool day was exactly what was needed. Jax had come over to hang out and get some sun. His idea of fun though, was to throw me in the pool.

  “What? You were complaining about how hot it was, so I figured I’d help you out.” He told me in between laughs.

  “Ha-ha, you’re so not funny!” I splashed water up at him. He’d dodged me, and then jumped in cannonball style. Water swooshed all over the sides of the pool. He surfaced from underneath wiping his eyes and smiled, “See? All you gotta do is take the plunge.”

  “On my own terms would’ve been nice you know.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” He tilted his head to the side grinning and pushed his hair off his face.

  “Whatever Jax.” I gave him a playful shove and switched topics, “So, are you ready for high school?”

  “Yeah, it can’t be all that bad right? You have Kip, I’ve got Drew.”

  “I guess you’re right, it’s just seeing them every day at school now will be…different.”

  “You meant seeing him, as in my brother.” Even if I tried to beat around the bush, Jax knew me too well. They both did, but I didn’t have a thing for Jax. I had a thing for his brother.

  “That’s not what I meant.” I said a little too defensively.

  “Bullshit it’s not.” He said splashing water in my face. “Don’t act like I don’t know you.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “There you are bro. I was wondering where you took off to.”

  Oh. My. God. It was Drew. Had he overheard anything?

  “Here I am, sup?”

  “Just wondering if you wanted to go play some basketball?” He turned his gaze to me and my heart started to beat faster, “Hey Kennie,” he’d said with a grin, “How are you?”

  “I-I’m doing g-good.” My face turned red with embarrassment and complete humiliation. Had I seriously stuttered over a simple question?

  Jax leaned in and whispered, “Like I said, bullshit,” and then winked as he hopped out of the pool.

  Keeping good on his promise, Jax has been walking up to my front door to meet me at six thirty sharp every morning. At first, I was very apprehensive about it, but we’ve basically fallen back into our old ways. He’s just Jax; good-looking, tattooed, goofy Jax.

  “Good morning,” I yawn, smiling back up at him. “You ready, slow poke?” I tease him. Teasing? I didn’t know I had it in me.

  “Slow poke?” He clutches his chest in mock horror. “Bring it on, shorty.” Laughing, he playfully shoves my shoulder as we walk towards the elevator.

  “Great. Think we can push for nine miles today?” I ask him innocently.

  What I’ve learned this week is that Jax never backs down from a challenge. “I’m game if you are, Macky Mack.”

  “I’m sorry?” I look at him confused. He can’t have seriously called me “Macky Mack”.

  He bursts out into laughter as we exit the elevator, and walk through the lobby heading outside. “No? That name not working for you?”

  I cross my eyes at him. “What was your first clue, Sherlock?”

  He chuckles, “My first clue? It was the look of absolute horror spread across your face, my dear Watson.”

  This is the exact ease I speak of when it comes to Jax. Light hearted and n
on-committal; just the way I’ve grown to like it.

  We set off at a comfortable pace as we chat some more about nonsensical things; music, movies, bucket-list-dream-vacations…He has since discovered my love for classic rock, my all-time favorite movie, The Breakfast Club—which he gave me shit about, and that I have to go to Italy before I die. Surprisingly enough, Jax too loves his classic rock, doesn’t have a favorite movie, or so he says, and has endless amounts of vacation spots for his bucket list.

  I took him around a different route on Bayshore Blvd today. It’s my favorite route to run, and can give us the extra mile I wanted to achieve for the day. He appears to be complacent with it, so a little over an hour and nine miles later, we’re both sweating our asses off with red faces walking back into the building.

  “Damn girl, I’m worn the fuck out. That extra mile kicked my ass,” he states, out of breath, as he lifts up his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face.

  “I’m glad I could help,” I joke.

  “So what are your plans for today?”

  “Well, Kip and I usually do brunch on the weekends, but he’s been really busy with work lately so it hasn’t happened as often as it used to.”

  I want to say I think it’s more so because Kip is tired of basically entertaining himself, but I have enough guilt to last me a lifetime. Besides, I think he’s grown tired of me avoiding the subject at all costs. I dealt with it alone; it’s in the past—it can stay there.

  “So is he not coming over today, then?” Jax interrupts my thoughts as we approach my door.

  “No, I don’t think so. I suppose I’ll just hang around the house and get some things done. Clean, run errands; you know, the usual mundane, adult responsibility stuff.” Why am I rambling?

  He laughs quietly, “Alright Mackenzie, thanks for the run; same time tomorrow?”

  “You know it.” I wave as he says bye and walks the few steps to his place. Smiling, I walk inside, and lock my door, heading toward my shower. It feels like it’s been ages since a genuine smile has crossed my face. It’s different, but maybe these little steps are ones in the right direction.

  I’M IN THE kitchen looking for some breakfast to make while my pot of coffee is brewing. Towel drying my hair, I hear a knock at my door. Fantastic. I’m donning just my robe, but the knock is persistent. I decide to answer it before changing. Opening the door, I come face to face with Drew.

  He’s fully dressed in a white fitted shirt, and worn denim jeans hanging off his hips. All of the ease I feel with his little brother, in no way carries over to this man standing in front of me. I immediately feel the flush in my cheeks at the site of him. I glance at the floor before looking back up at him. I see a priceless grin on his face. He slips his right hand into his front jeans pocket and leans against my doorway cocking his head.

  “Hey neighbor. I was wondering if you had any sugar I could steal away for my coffee.”

  In stating this, all I see is the mischief in his beautiful green eyes. I’m almost certain that’s what it is. All week he’s been randomly stopping by asking for a different easily accessible grocery store item. Today, it’s sugar.

  I look away to hide my hopeful smile, and wave my hand into my apartment for him to enter. “Yeah, I believe I have some.”

  I FOLLOW KENNIE into her place, smiling to myself because she looked so damn cute blushing when she saw it was me at her door. She looks even cuter in her bathrobe right now. Honestly, she shouldn’t be surprised by this point; it has been a week of me asking for lame shit. Sugar tops the list of uncreative condiments. I’m sure it’s evident at this point, my asking for things I could get at a grocery store down the road, are not my real reasons for stopping by. I decided to take demystifying the puzzle that is Kennie with a little less force. Random grocery items felt like a safe way to go. My god I’m embarrassed for me.

  Walking behind her down the hallway, I notice she’s got hardwood floors and light grey walls. There seems to be pictures missing because I can see tiny holes where nails used to be. I shrug it off continuing on until I’m in her kitchen, which is also pretty nice. She’s got stainless steel appliances and dark wood cabinetry with little girly touches here and there. I’ll give it to Kennie, she’s got pretty good taste.

  “So how long have you lived here?” I ask leaning against her sink, opposite the stove.

  She turns around to face me. “About a year or so.” She glances at me briefly before turning her attention back to her stove. My eyes follow her movement to see she’s actually brewing coffee right next to it. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to put something on.”

  Do you have to?

  She spins around and there’s no hiding her beet red face. “Excuse me?”

  I look at her surprised. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

  “Did you just ask me if I have to?”

  Shit. Did I really say that out loud? Wow, I’m such an idiot. I opt to give her a huge grin instead, questioning what she heard, “Did I?” I scratch the back of my head feigning thoughtfulness.

  She looks away quickly, walking off to what I can only assume is her bedroom. I don’t ever remember her being this introverted, ever. I know we grew up, but shit. Whatever happened to her reads like a neon sign of discomfort intermixed with shyness. I’ve seen her upset before; never uncomfortable though. Back then she would sometimes let me in on her problems, even if they were trivial. Well, if Kip wasn’t around she would anyway.

  “Bro, I have no clue where your sister would be.”

  “I know Drew, me either, that’s exactly why we’re looking for her, dick.”

  “Alright, chill out.”

  Kip wasn’t in the mood. We’d been looking for Kennie for about an hour. She’d said she was going to her friend’s house, according to Mr. and Mrs. Tillson, but she should’ve already been home. Truthfully, we were all worried. We’d been walking around calling for her, but nothing. Finally, we approached one of the last places that came to mind, we spotted Kennie. She rocked slowly back and forth on a swing in this deserted playground.

  Kip and I both eyed her at the same time.

  “Mackenzie!” he shouted at her. She looked up at us with a tear stained face, holding a notebook on her lap and pencil in her hand. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. What the hell?”

  “I-I’m s-sorry, Kip.”

  Damn. She’s had to have been crying for a while because she kept hiccupping when she spoke. I was instantly angry with whoever the hell it was that made her cry. I mean come on; she was eleven years old, for Christ’s sake. Just a kid; who would want to hurt my little Kennie? Whoa, my little Kennie?

  “What’s happened? Talk to us. Did somebody hurt you?” I glanced over at Kip whose jaw ticked. I knew he was just as pissed as me about his baby sis being this upset.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “N-no. No one hurt me, just m-my f-feelings.”

  Poor thing; I saw the tears forming again.

  “You know Megan, right?”

  Ugh Megan. That little girl had been so damn annoying. She’d always staked out at their house, constantly got into mine and Kip’s business.

  He nodded slowly, “Yes…”

  “Well t-today I found out that the only reason she hangs out with me is because you’re my- you’re my b-brother. She s-said you’re really cute. She said she wouldn’t be hanging out with me otherwise because I’m too p-plain.”

  Plain? Seriously? I didn’t see it; I thought little Kennie was going to grow up to be quite beautiful, actually.

  Kip exhaled a sigh, “Really Mackenzie? That’s what you’re so upset about?”

  I’d sided with Kip on this one. It seemed pretty ridiculous, but I wasn’t a chick, so this kind of shit didn’t bother me. Besides, girls could be bitches anyway.

  “Yes, Kip! She’s supposed to be my friend!”

  “Well why are you out here, Kennie?” My turn came to diffuse the argument that would’ve taken place between these tw
o stubborn siblings. “I mean, of all the places you could go, this isn’t exactly down the street. And, you’re alone.” I waved my hand in a semi-circle to show how empty the playground had been.

  “I don’t know,” she looked down at her notebook sadly and started scribbling, “It’s the only place I could think of where no one would see me cry, or call me a cry baby.”

  “Well it’s almost dinner time Mackenzie, we need to get you home.”

  She sniffled, “Yeah okay, Kip. Sorry.” She stood and followed our direction slowly. I could hear the crying was about to start again, and it broke my heart for her.

  I suddenly remembered on our way to Megan’s house earlier, we’d stopped by the store and picked up some candy. I was positive it would cheer her up so I went for it, “Hey Kennie.” I said from behind her as she walked beside Kip.

  She looked over her shoulder at me with bloodshot eyes, “Yeah?”

  “Wanna ring pop?” I offered her. I held the candy out to her, and noticed a visible change in her demeanor. She smiled. A big smile while she nodded yes. I chuckled at her, ruffled her hair and handed her the ring pop.

  And for the whole way home, Kennie’d been in much better spirits.

  “Sugar?”

  Kennie snaps me back to reality. She holds a small tin can full of sugar in front of my face as if she’s been trying to get my attention for a while.

  I nod, grab the can, and assess her wardrobe change. Pink tank top, black yoga pants. See, now I’ve always wondered if girls truly believe that just because they’re considered “pants” they cover up anything. They actually accentuate my favorite part of the female body; the ass. And right now, as Kennie turns around to pour herself a cup of coffee, I’m positive her ass is one of my favorite parts of her body. I’m a guy, of course I noticed it.

  “So, I can walk you out if you’d like?” Taking a sip, she eyes me over her cup.