“Hello, Liam. You look… handsome.” I say in a small voice. That is the understatement of the year. He looks beyond handsome.
Liam snaps his head around to face me and his deep-blue rimmed aquatic eyes grow wide with what looks like delight and wonder. Of course I could be perceiving that wrong. The contrast between his black suit and bright eyes is brilliant; black contrasting against his vivid and prismatic eyes almost looks photoshopped. He lays his right hand over his heart as he appraises me, allowing his eyes to trail slowly from my head to my toes, lazily drinking me in. I mash my lips into a nervous line when he doesn’t speak and start twitching my right leg.
“You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he finally says in a whisper so deep it’s hard to hear.
“Thanks.” I look down in mild embarrassment and as usual my conversational skills are lacking.
“Wait just a second,” he adds, clearing his throat.
He dips into his car and then turns back around, holding out a single purple rose. I smile like a fool and the same flutters are back in my stomach. It’s such a simple gesture, but it is the single most nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I can’t ever remember receiving such a simple but heartfelt and sentimental gift like this – not from Ben, or my mom, not from a friend or a family member – not from anyone and though it’s minimal, it is the best thing I have ever gotten. Okay, maybe I feel that way because of who I’m receiving it from. But at this moment, it doesn't matter. I'll always remember this. I’m too busy getting mentally mooshy that I have yet to take the flower from his hand.
“I know it’s not a whole bouquet…” Liam begins.
“No, no. It’s perfect. Thank you. And thanks for the note… it was really nice.”
He nods and gives a shy smile. “Shall we?” he says holding out his hand so that he can help me into the car.
As Liam holds open the passenger side door for me, I overhear Amber murmuring a cynical remark (to the fact that I’m riding with Liam, or if it’s because I am being grouped into her class of people tonight, I’m unsure) and so I glance toward her to shoot her a devilish smile. She glares at me and I fight back the urge to tilt my head back and laugh like an evil villain.
The parade isn’t so bad. I only have to be perched on the top of Liam’s car for a few minutes. His car doesn’t open up quite in the way I imagined – just the roof comes off, still leaving the back windshield with a convenient place for me to sit. When I’m busy waving and smiling to the crowd (feeling like a complete moron) lined amongst the street, I’ve forgotten all about the humiliating slit in my dress until Liam runs a finger down the length of my leg. The touch sends a tingly shot through my entire body. I look down to him as his finger lightly flits down my skin, feeling something in the pit of my stomach I have never experienced before. He looks only to the road ahead, appearing as though he hasn’t touched me. How does he do that?
“This is conveniently placed,” is all he says.
When we arrive back to the school I notice a car sitting out of place in the parking lot. My racing heart stops and then falls to my stomach as I realize exactly whose car it is. Liam looks over to me and sees my now disappointed expression.
“What’s wrong, Breckin?”
I can’t look over to his anxious gaze. I can feel him staring at me but all I am able to do in this moment is glare at the ugly unwanted car a few yards away.
“Breckin, if you’re worrying about halftime there’s no need. You’ll do great. You look so beautiful.”
“It’s not that,” I manage to choke out. “The dark car over there,” I begin as I point toward the car like it’s an unwelcome bug. “That’s Ben’s car.”
Liam follows my finger to where I point and his expression transforms from worry to fury in an instant. His beautiful aqua eyes wheel the parking lot and I think I hear him murmur something about “tactless” under his breath. It only takes him a few seconds to find Ben’s car and when he does, he suddenly shifts the gears of his own car into neutral and applies the E-brake so he can park directly where we sit. He reaches for the handle to his door and I put my shaky hand on his arm.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a voice that matches my trembling hand.
Liam looks over to my wide eyes and seems to calm a little to my touch. “I’m not sure,” he replies. “But he doesn’t need to be here.”
“Please, just stay here.” I say as I reach for my door.
Liam looks at me with a puzzled expression that wrinkles his hard features as I pull my hand from his arm to rest upon his cheek. He leans his face into my palm much like he did that day at the tree, and in that instant I know what I have to do. I have to break up with Ben, right here, right now. There is not a question in my mind that I want, no, more than want, I need to be with Liam and I cannot wait any longer. The timing is poor, but I might not get another opportunity. Every time I’ve wanted to break up with Ben, something comes up not allowing me to do what I now ache to do. Liam is what I want and since he is so morally set that I be without any attachment to Ben, I will now cut the strings that tie me back.
“I’ll see you at halftime.” Liam murmurs.
His reproachful tone causes my heart to quiver and only reassures me further that now is the time.
“I can’t wait,” I say as I take his hand and quickly kiss it. I hope that this small gesture will give him some reassurance that I can't get back to him fast enough.
I get out of the car and start awkwardly marching toward Ben. I've meant to look more determined, but the shoes I wear make that impossible. He remains sitting in his seat and as I get closer, I notice that he’s talking on his cell phone. I stop when I reach his side of the car and impatiently cross my arms over my chest. I know that he senses me standing there because he half tilts his head into my direction when I approach. As he continues to chat into his phone without ever looking at me, it only irritates me further. My annoyed gaze turns into a cruel glare. Ben cranks the manual window down and I hear the tail end of his conversation. From what I can gather, he isn’t planning on staying in town this weekend. After halftime he’s heading back to a friend’s house so that he can make it in time for a frat party. It’s clear in his tone that he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place.
“Hey, Kenny!” he says as he slides his phone shut.
“You didn’t have to come if it was such an inconvenience for you.” I snap. “And don’t call me that. I hate it.”
“Since when?” he barks back.
“It’s apparent that you have better things to do, so why did you even bother to come?” I retort through my teeth. I’m being meaner than I intended to be, but it seems to be making it easier knowing where I’m about to take the conversation. All the pent up anger and frustration I’ve held on to towards Ben is coming to a head as the image of Liam’s wary and angered face flashes behind my eyes.
“It’s not an inconvenience. Axel called and told me that you’d been nominated for homecoming queen. How could I miss it? I’m guessing you’ll trip and fall with those shoes and I really don’t expect you to win with Amber up against you. But I’m here to route you on anyway.” Ben says with a mocking smile.
“You think this is funny?”
“Sure I do,” he replies while holding his derided expression. “Let’s face it, you've never been the type to like this sorta thing, so why wouldn’t I wanna come see you looking so uncomfortable and pretty at the same time? It’s well worth my time to watch this.”
I can feel my nostrils flaring now. I am somewhat used to Ben’s snide remarks, but today I seem to be tolerating them less. As I stand – fuming – Ben goes on completely oblivious to my mood.
“It won’t take long for them to announce that you've lost anyway, and then I’ll be on my way. I hope that you didn’t have anything planned this weekend 'cause I wasn’t thinking of coming down. My roommates and I planned on going to this little party tonight, and tomorrow night I’m headed to a club. Normally I wouldn’t be allo
wed in, but this guy I know from one of my classes got me and my friends fake ID’s. I tell ya, college life is great! I get to live a life of freedom, and at the same time I have a girlfriend waiting for me at home.”
That does it.
I ‘d already felt like Ben was using me. He’s living life to the fullest while he stays away and at the same time he expects me to wait in the wings for whenever he decides to grace me with his almighty presence. He wants his cake and to eat it too, so-to-speak.
Well, no more.
“You know what, Ben? I actually do have plans. But don't worry, they’re not with you. So listen up, this won't take long. I promise not to waste your time anymore.”
“What did you have planned?” he asks, sounding as if it is inconceivable for me to plan anything.
“To dump your sorry ass.”
His expression becomes bewildered and after a moment of realization, he hurriedly opens his door and stumbles out of the car. I begin to walk away and he clasps me by my arm in an attempt to stop me.
“Hold on, Kenny, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
I rip my arm out of his hand and turn to face him. With my hands balled into fists at my side, I take a step, closing the distance between us to glare into his eyes – which are now closer to my level thanks to the heels – and start shouting.
“It's over! I'm just sorry it's taken me so long to do this. You and I haven’t belonged together for a long time. It’s very clear – much clearer to me now –that you’re right. It’s not inconvenient for you at all to come down here for a visit. Rather, I’m more of a convenience for you! If you want to live the college life and play around with your buddies that’s fine, I don’t care, but you can’t expect to have me, too. I’m not going to sit here at home and just wait for you and your superior presence to stop by whenever you feel like it! It’s not fair to me and you can’t expect me to live like that!”
Ben reaches for my hand with both of his and with pleading in his eyes says, “Are you sure you really want to do this? We have so much history and now you want to throw it away because we’re having a little trouble? I don’t mean to be so sarcastic. You know that’s just how I am. Do you really want to break up? Are you sure?” he says again.
“Yes. I. Am. Positive!” I reply through clenched teeth. “I don’t like who I am when I’m around you, I don’t like what we’ve become, I don’t like your lack of respect and feeling, and I don’t like you.”
Ben flinches. “B-but…” he stutters.
I have no tolerance for him now.
“No, Ben. You didn’t even realize there was a problem until about two seconds ago. I’m tired of your rude comments. Every word out of your mouth is dripping with sarcasm and, too, how you act like I’m some sort of door prize that awaits you when you come home. I’m over it. I'm over you.”
“I don’t mean for it to sound like that. You know I’m just joking.”
“Did you know that fifty percent of what you say when you’re joking,” I hiss as I throw my hands up into the air making quotations with my fingers, “is meant to be true, and that the other fifty percent is only meant to be said jokingly? However, in your case I think it’s all you're capable of. That’s all you know how to do, Ben. Your only competent quality is to be Mr. Jokester, and to be quite honest, I’m tired of it. I’m not dealing with your snide comments anymore. I can’t even have a serious conversation with you. You know how many times I’ve tried talking myself out of this? I thought maybe that it was just me, that I was being unrealistic with my expectations for our relationship. But you’ve proven to me time and time again that that just isn’t so. It isn’t me, it’s very much you.” And now I’m crying. Not from sadness or because I’m upset, and not because I feel guilty; I often cry when I’m so angry like this. And I am definitely furious.
“But, I love you,” he whispers quietly.
I shake my head and snort. “No, you love the idea of me. Look at it this way, now you’re free to live your college life as you so please and you no longer have to worry about having to come home to visit your little high school girlfriend. Life will be so much better for you now.” I finish bitingly.
Ben doesn’t say anything more and he releases my arm. He just stands, dumbfounded, as I turn again to walk away. I note that he doesn’t look very upset, and I’m actually glad for that. I really haven’t set out to hurt him, but I have to agree with the saying: sometimes the truth hurts.
I hear the roar of his car come to life and I don’t give a second glance back. His tires squeal against the pavement as he now angrily pulls away, and when I can no longer hear Ben’s car, a wave of relief floods over me like fresh morning rain after a desert drought. My body elates with the fact that I am now free and I feel like I could collapse right here on the pavement in gratified release. Free. I’m free! Free to be with who I want to be with. To be able to do what I want with whom I want. No more cloud hanging over my head, no more feelings of guilt, no more holding me back.
I dab at my eyes with the back of my hand, hoping my makeup hasn’t smudged as I search the parking lot for Liam. Unfortunately he and his car are nowhere to be found. The game has already started and it’s almost second period. I hadn’t realized how much time actually passed in my moment of anger and exhilaration. I scan the lot again and when I come up empty, my heart drops all the way to my toes. As I walk toward the rowdy and loud bleachers, I see my mom pulling in. Instead of going to sit with the crowd, I wait for Elly to park her car.
“Hey, honey!” she calls as she sees me. I wave while noticing that she hasn’t brought her friend Christine from work as planned. “It’s almost time, right? Where are we lining up?” she asks when reaching my side.
“Right over there under that goal post.” I answer while pointing to the spot. “Where’s Christine? Didn’t she want to come?”
“Sure she did. Unfortunately she was on call and her beeper went off just as we were pulling out after the parade. ER’s never slow. That’s why I wasn’t here sooner. She says, good luck.” My face must look for what she believes to be nerves, because Elly sounds slightly worried when she speaks again. “What is it, honey? Are you nervous?”
“Not exactly. I broke up with Ben,” I answer dully. This isn’t the real reason behind my anxious expression, but it seems to take the focus from the obvious.
She hugs me and then steps back to study my face. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“It is,” I nod. “I was just hoping that… well, I don’t see…” I’m unable to finish my sentence.
Where has Liam gone? I continue to search the overcrowded parking lot for his car, but no matter how hard I hunt, I can't find it or him. I’m chewing the inside of my cheek and anxiously twitching my leg. Elly puts a hand to my shoulder in an effort to stop my erratic shaking.
“Then why are you upset? I’ll agree that the timing isn’t really good, but honey you should be happy. This is what you wanted, so-”
“I’m all right. Let’s go.” I say abruptly. I hold my hand out for her and Elly looks at me doubtfully as she clasps my shaky fingers and heads us toward the football field.
“Where are all the king candidates?” she asks as we reach the other queen candidates.
“On the football field. They’re all football players. Figures, right? That’s why none of them were in the parade, either. All of the king candidates were preparing for tonight’s game.”
“Oh. Nervous?”
“I wasn’t really. Not until you said that. Now quit asking me.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I sigh. “I’m sorry, too. I’m actually more nervous that I’ll fall flat on my face. Heels mixed with uneven grass isn’t exactly ideal walking conditions. It’s not like I’m going to win anyway, so I’ll just be glad to get this over with. Maybe no one will notice if I just take my shoes off.”
I stare down to my feet and seriously contemplate kicking the uncomfortable heels to the side. I’m
really missing my Converse shoes right now.
“You really do look beautiful, Breckin.” Elly murmurs emotionally as she fights back a tear.
“What’s this?” I say as I put my finger under her eye to catch the wet droplet. It’s not like Elly to get emotional. I’m always the one crying at the silly pet commercials asking for money to help abused pets or the one weeping uncontrollably when Rose tells Jack she’d never let go from the movie Titanic. Yes, I'd gone to the movies to see it when it was re-released in the theaters. I’m a sucker for a good love story.
“Damn menopause. It’s got my emotions all out of whack!”
I laugh. Elly’s little joke makes me feel a bit more normal in the current situation. “You’re too young for menopause, Mom.”
“Don’t say that! I’ve just been waiting for the change so I can get all of these hot flashes and crying jags over with. I’m sure that’s what it is. C’mon menopause!”
I roll my eyes. Elly can be so goofy.
The homecoming committee rushes around us making sure we’re all lined up in the correct order. One woman looks so frantic with her clipboard and checklist that I almost feel more sorry for her than I do for me. The last seconds tick by on the big clock and the referee whistles blow into the night air, announcing halftime. I look up to the packed bleachers hoping that the crowd won’t have an interest in what’s about to happen and that maybe people will get up to stretch or to take a bathroom break or even to go get something to eat at the concessions. No such luck. Everyone seems to stay glued to their seats.
As the announcer starts the introductions over the loud speakers, setting up the anticipation for each girl, my head becomes dizzy and my palms start to sweat. The band has started to play softly in the background, but it sounds far away to me. Elly has to remind me how to breathe correctly and when it’s my turn to walk forward, my feet freeze. As my name is announced, I look ahead of me, panicking, and then my eyes lock with his from across the width of the football field.
Hollow Sight Page 21