by Izzy Daniels
We spend a few hours wandering the boardwalk, hand in hand. We stop in a shop and Brooke buys us matching rainbow seashell bracelets. A lot of people are riding bikes and pushing strollers, so we make up all kinds of silly stories about who they are. Brooke takes a hundred pictures of everything. It’s all so different than anything I’ve seen. I can’t even get over the smell of the ocean. My eyes try to take in everything, but it’s impossible. Sometimes I turn to look at Brooke, but I always find her watching me first. It makes my stomach flip every time.
After we stop for lunch, she takes me to the Virginia Aquarium, the coolest place on the planet. I get to see sharks, penguins, turtles, seals, otters, and tanks of colorful fish. It takes a few hours, but we see everything the aquarium has to offer. At the gift shop, Brooke buys me a small stuffed animal penguin. Later on when she goes to the bathroom, I pop back in and buy a matching one to give her later. Penguins mate for life.
“We’ve just got one last thing to do before we head back home,” Brooke says as we leave the Aquarium. The sky has begun darkening and the cold breeze is picking up. I shiver in response and she loops her arm around my shoulders. She comes to a stop next to the passenger door of the jeep but as her arm reaches out to open it, I stop her. I bring a hand to her cheek and kiss her.
“This has been the best day ever. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me here,” I say. Words can’t even express how I feel.
“No thanks necessary. Happy early birthday,” Brooke replies. She kisses me again before opening the door for me.
We go to a drive through coffee house and she orders me my favorite coffee and gets herself a hot chocolate. When I ask her if that was the last stop, she just shakes her head. She ends up taking me to 2nd street to see the Holiday Lights. It’s an incredible display of colorful lights, both animated and stationary. There are Christmas trees, garland, and lights lining the hotels. It all looks so magical. We drive through, ooh’ing, ahh’ing, and pointing out our favorite decorations. When we get to the end of 34th street, I feel the happiest I’ve ever been. Every date with her just gets better and better. But for some reason, this one feels different. I can’t pin it down exactly how, but I just know that it does.
Brooke looks tired and since I’m wired from the caffeine, I convince her to let me drive us home. She helps me navigate the streets back to the highway and then takes of the job as DJ. Brooke puts on her road trip mix and relaxes back into her seat, singing along. After an hour or so, we stop and have a quick dinner at a burger joint. It has a huge jukebox and Brooke’s eyes light up with she sees it. She digs our coins from her wallet and comes up with a plan.
“We don’t have a song. As a couple, this is a huge issue. We’re going to walk over to the jukebox put in the money, close our eyes, and we’re pick a random button and that will be our song,” she insists.
“Wait, if our eyes are closed, how will we know when it comes on that it’s ours?” I ask her.
“Good point. Okay, after we press a button, we look at the song. When it comes on, we dance to it,” she suggests.
“Dance? Like in front of people?”
“There’s five people in here, Emma. People we will never see again,” she tells me. “Please, will you dance with me?”
“Oh, fine,” I say. I can’t say no to her after she’s given me the best day of my life.
We do just like she suggested. We put the quarters into the slot and then we close our eyes. With clasped hands, we lead each other to a random white button. We quickly scroll through the lists of songs to find what will be our song. Brooke finds it first and dissolves into uncontrollable laughter. She uses her index finger to point it out.
“Jailhouse Rock?” I ask through my own fit of giggles.
“So much for a romantic ballad,” Brooke says.
When our song finally comes on, she still makes me dance with her and we’re breathless from exertion and laughter. We both agree that it’s the best song ever. When we get back to the jeep, I can see the heat I feel reflecting in her eyes. We lean in to kiss each other at the same time. Countless long, passionate kisses right in the parking lot. When we separate, it’s only because I’m eager to get her home where I can finish what we just started.
As we pass a billboard for a theme park, I tell Brooke about the time my mom and her boyfriend, Paul, took me to Six Flags when I was ten. My mom was terrified of rollercoasters but Paul rode every single one with me. My mom loved the bumper cars though.
“So you like rollercoasters, huh?” Brooke asks. She digs out two candy bars from the duffle bag, tears one open and hands it to me as I drive.
“Love them, what about you?” I ask before taking a bite of chocolate goodness.
“I love them, too. We should go to an amusement park soon. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m amazing at winning stuffed animals at those games,” she says while chewing.
“Sounds like I need to see it to believe it,” I assure her.
“I see how it is,” she responds. “Alright, we’ll go over Christmas break, then.”
“Deal,” I say gladly. My life is awesome.
It’s pretty late by the time we get back to the apartment and we both have to pee, so we ditch the duffle bag and race up the stairs. Winner gets the bathroom first, so I let her win despite my near bursting bladder. After my turn, we take a quick shower to rinse of lingering sand and chocolate. Rinsing turns into kissing and we’re back to where we were in the parking lot. Afterwards, we’re sedate and satiated so we snuggle up on the couch with a movie. We make it an hour before we shut it down and head to bed. It feels so normal, so right, as I slide into my spot. She scoots in close to me and rests her head on my shoulder. A pleasant silence settles over us as I rub her back tenderly. I hear her breathing even out as she falls asleep. My eyes study the ceiling as I listen.
She’s become the most important person to me in the whole world. I’ve only known her for such a short time, but suddenly she’s all I ever think about. When I acknowledge her importance to me, fear creeps in. I worry that she’ll leave my life as quick as she entered it. That somehow I’ll lose her too. It’s enough to make my lungs seize up. Maybe she feels the same way, I do. Afraid .
But instead of pushing each other or running away, we’re here together. Every day we choose to be a part of each other’s life and that has to count for something. We know we could be taken from each other at any moment for any reason, but still we stay. Is it madness? Hope? Could it be love? Despite, needing to be up early for work tomorrow, I spend the next hour examining our entire relationship together. Eventually, a moment before I fall asleep, my mind conclusively releases the answer.
It must be love.
14
Brooke
I woke up to her getting ready for work. She kissed me long and hard before leaving. Yesterday was amazing. She was so giddy, it was like watching a kid in a candy store. Her big blue eyes were wide with wonder and amazement the whole day. I took an embarrassing amount of candid shots of her. Spending that much time with her all to myself was just as glorious as I imagined it would be. An image of her wild morning hair and pink lips pop into my mind. When I woke her up, for a split second, I thought she was going to tell me she loved me. She didn’t, but I think she wanted to. I look down and fondly touch the rainbow seashell bracelet there.
Right after she left for work this morning, reality set back in and I started to feel really awful for not telling her about Paul. When she talked about him yesterday, it was on the tip of my tongue. I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to ruin our perfect day together by bringing up her painful past. I have to tell her today . I’ll call her after she gets off work and I’ll ask her to come over so we can talk. She might hate me for bringing it up or for not telling her, but she needs to know. I’ve waited long enough.
I spend the rest of the day attempting to drag up the bag from the car and put everything away. I always pack more than I need, but I would hate to really ne
ed something and not have it. I’m also used to all of my earthly belongings fitting into my jeep. Instead of obsessing about Emma, I do homework for a few hours. When I finish that, I start Steven’s website and call him to schedule a time to come by and take pictures. He agrees to next week.
After lunch, I start to organize my music by genre just to pass the time. Halfway through, Morgan calls and she tells me about Thanksgiving with her crazy family. She has five siblings, tons of nieces, nephews, and cousins. I try to remember all the names, but none stick. Eventually, she tells me she’ll see me Monday and we hang up.
When nine o’clock finally rolls around I start sweating a little bit. Emma normally gets off at ten, so I try to finish a crossword puzzle in a magazine for the next hour. I only know half of them. Around ten I stand up with my phone, figuring I can call her soon and she’ll be out of the restaurant. Within the next fifteen minutes I’ve worried lines into my carpet. My thoughts run from both ends of the spectrum and everything in between. Either she’s going to hate me for going behind her back, for meddling, or she’s going to thank me for finding someone with answers about her mom. I pick up the phone and click on her icon. It rings repeatedly before going to voicemail. I wasn’t expecting that for some reason. I’ve never gotten her voicemail before. I hang up and hold the phone to my chest. My heart has started beating ridiculously fast and I click her icon again. She picks up on the third ring.
“Brooke. Hey,” she says. I can hear her catch her breath.
“Emma, hi. Why are you out of breath? You okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine. I just got home. What’s —, ” her voice is cut off by a loud bang.
“This isn’t over, give me everything,” a gruff male voice hollers. “Now!” Her uncle?
“I’m not giving you anything,” Emma says in a quivering voice. The male voice growls and then I hear Emma gasp followed by a whimper.
“Emma?! What’s happening?” I shout in horror but the call has been disconnected.
If she’s home, it must be her uncle. Paul Sherman’s words replay in my mind. Oh no, Emma. Suddenly, images begin flooding in: the bruises on her back, her arm in a bandage, her telling me she’s clumsy, not letting me walk her to her door. Terror grips me. No, no, no. I race to the counter, grab my keys, and I’m in my jeep in under a minute. I shove into gear and peel out of the parking lot. How could I have missed it? My phone is still in my hand and I dial 911 with shaking fingers as I floor it to Emma’s. Please...
15
Emmaline
My scalp is stinging as Uncle Robert grips my hair and screams obscenities at me again. The pain is intense and tears are blurring my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. The violence has escalated these last few weeks. I can only guess at the reason. It could be because I haven’t been home as much and he could feel me slipping out of his control. Or he could have just started drinking heavier and gambling more. But tonight must have been the final straw. For the first time, I said no to him. I told him I wouldn’t give him anything ever again.
At first he was dumbfounded, but then he exploded in rage. As I continue to pay the price in suffering, my determination wavers. My newfound spine is bending as my terror grows. I could easily give him the stash in my car, but if he emptied my account again, that’s everything I’ve ever saved. No, I can’t give in now, no matter how much this hurts . I want my life to be mine, my money to be mine. I have to stay strong.
“Where is it?” He emphasizes his question with another fist to my stomach. This one is so hard my knees buckle and I collapse. When I hit the floor I feel the fistful of hair being ripped out. Pain darkens my vision and my entire torso is on fire as I try to regain my ability to breathe. He shoves me the rest of the way down. From the floor, I can hear him start to empty my drawers. There’s nothing but clothes and homework for him to find. I hear something hard hit the wall and his bellow of frustration. I can’t speak but all the answers I have for him would only add to his outburst.
He was waiting for me to get home like always. My nerves were rigid, like stone. When he realized I wasn’t giving him anything anymore, his punches fell harder. When he stumbled over his cane, I escaped to my room. He wasn’t done with me, though. Not like I thought it was going to be easy. I answered Brooke’s call before I had a chance to secure the lock and chair.
For the first time, I wonder if I should have used those precious seconds to call for help. I’ve never feared death before, maybe because it never seemed like a possibility, but the possibility feels far too real right now. His shadow looms over me and the heel of his boot comes down on my left hand, pressing it harshly against the carpet. A moan of pain escapes me before I can control it.
“I know you’ve been shorting me and hiding it somewhere. I’m not a fool,” Uncle Robert claims. “Give it to me or I will crush your pretty little hand.” Fear surges through me and my body tenses. I hopelessly attempt to pull my arm away from him. I’m prepared to tell him where all my hiding spots are, but even as I open my mouth he doesn’t give me the chance. The heel of his boot jerks up and slams down on my hand. An agonized scream scrapes my throat and I’m overwhelmed with binding pain. His weight is suddenly off my hand and I hear something hit hard against the dresser behind me. I pull my crippled hand to me and cry out again.
“Emma! Oh my god, Emma!” a frightened voice screams. My own? No. Brooke’s. My eyes only see blackness, but it must to be her. Wonder why she’s in my bedroom . “What the fuck did you do to her, you bastard!”
“Who the hell are you?” Uncle Robert demands. “Get outta my goddamn house!”
“The police are on their way, Emma. He can’t hurt you anymore,” the sweet voice says. I feel gentle hands touching my face, flitting to my neck. I hear Uncle Robert stumble past me and the front door slam closed before his truck’s engine roars to life. “He’s gone, Emma. Stay with me, baby. Help is coming. Please. Please.” Her voice is coming in sobs and I try to comfort her, but nothing is working properly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I got here as fast as I could. God, Emma, please be okay. I love you so much.” My good hand twitches, I want to touch her and tell her I’m fine. Tell her I love her, too. I love you, Brooke. My mouth doesn’t obey me and I descend slowly into the waiting darkness. From somewhere far away, I hear sirens and voices. So many voices . Hands are touching me and everything hurts, but Brooke keeps telling me I’m going to be okay. I take comfort in her presence, as I always have. At last, I release the last vestige of consciousness.
…
Faint humming and an occasional beeping reach my ears at the same time I realize that I’m waking up. I feel warm and.. slightly fuzzy, like when you take antihistamines. Voices sound close by, but I can’t decipher what they’re saying. Where am I? I focus harder on the voices. Why can’t I see anything? Oh wait. With effort, I push at my heavy eyelids. They open slightly and I take in the blob-like figures at the foot of my bed. Not my bed. Hospital bed. Weird . My eyes fall closed from the exertion and refuse to budge again. I redirect my efforts to understand the words being spoken.
“... CT scans showed mild internal bleeding Her progress is very good, expect her to wake within the next few hours…”
“What about her hand?” A male voice says.
“Two fractures… severely bruised... The x-rays… over a dozen healed fractures... consistent with abuse…” I can pick out the sound of someone crying. Before I figure out who they’re talking about, I fall back asleep.
Brooke is smiling serenely at me from the driver’s seat of her jeep. My hair is blowing around me in the wind. In slow motion, I watch as her colorfully tattooed hand reaches over and caresses my cheek. She’s so beautiful . Just as I’m about to tell her that, I’m pulled in a different direction by the distinct feeling of a presence next to me. My eyes open and she’s still there but she’s not looking at me, her face isn’t smiling, and we’re not in her jeep. Confused, I try to talk but my mouth is so dry that nothing happens.
Broo
ke’s eyes whip toward me and her eyes are red-rimmed but she’s smiling at me. Her hand reaches for my right hand and she holds on tenderly. Everything still feels fuzzy, but Brooke is here.
“Hey, there,” she rasps. She clears her throat. “You’re going to be just fine. You’re in the hospital right now, okay?” My nod is more of a twitch, so I try again. Images start coming back to me. My uncle, Brooke talking to me. My hand. My eyes rove over my body. I take in my left hand and arm in a cast but I’m covered in blankets and I can’t tell what else is wrong. I swallow a few times and try to work my voice again.
“What?” I manage to ask her. But Brooke nods in understanding.
“Do you remember what happened?” She asks. I grimace and nod. “You were in bad shape when they got you here.” Brooke continues, “There is a very small amount of internal bleeding that they’re monitoring, but you’re going to make a full recovery. You’ll just be sore for a little while. You’ve got some bruising. Two fingers are broken and a hairline fracture on your hand, but the nurses assured me that you’ll heal just fine. How do you feel?” Really thirsty.
“Water?” I ask in a scratchy voice.
“Oh, shit. Yes. Hang on,” she tells me. She leaps up and runs around the foot of the bed to a table with a small styrofoam cup and a straw. She brings it to my mouth and I sip it heartily as she watches me. I clear my throat.
“Are you alright, Brooke? He didn’t… ?” I ask her. It terrifies me to think of him hurting her.
“No, no. He ran out when I mentioned the cops,” she reassures me. “But Emma, they found him. He was arrested while walking away from his truck. He crashed it into a business sign on Elm. They want a statement from you, but that motherfucker is where he belongs and he’s not getting out any time soon, I promise. But we can talk about that later. I want to kiss you. But I told them I was your sister so I could be with you. Oh and Jack’s your brother. He just went down for coffee, he’ll be back in a minute. We later found out that they don’t require the family thing anymore but Jack insisted we stick to it. They said you can have more visitors when you’re up for it though, if you want.” My mind sways with that new information. Uncle Robert has been arrested. All of this means that Brooke knows. She knows everything I tried to hide from her. She knows that I’ve been lying, deceiving her. Panic starts rising up in me.