Scared of Beautiful

by Jacqueline Abrahams

  “Why so quiet?” Jade asks eventually.

  “Just thinking,” I say, wincing as I move my left arm and the handcuff grates against my wrist.

  “About Maia?” she asks. “Oh wait, stupid question.” Jade winks at me, and I would have thrown my pillow at her had I the ability to use either of my arms.

  “Go home and get some sleep Jade,” I say.

  “No, I’m waiting here till Maia arrives,” she replies defiantly. “She’ll never forgive me if you die or abscond before she gets here.” Jade’s eyes glint with amusement.

  “How?” I reply sarcastically gesturing down at my cuffed arm.

  “I said no,” she returns flatly, and I sigh and smile. There was never a better and more infuriating friend on this planet. “You just want to check out the hot nurses,” I tease.

  “Guilty,” she grins, “and speaking of which, another roaming of the halls is in order.” Jade winks as she slides out the door.

  A few minutes later, a nurse comes in to deliver my Valium. I guess they figure criminals are prone to violent outbursts, so sedation is a good idea. I have no idea how Jade convinced them that she needs to stay with me. Not that it makes a difference, considering there are two policemen outside my door 24/7. I drift off to sleep smiling, knowing that come morning, I will see the most beautiful sight in the world.

  * * *

  That dream is short lived. I awake instead to see a small, stocky man in a very expensive suit holding a briefcase, perched on a chair next to my bed.

  “Who are you?” I ask groggily.

  “Phillip Mercer,” he says holding out his hand.

  I glance down at my useless upper appendages and glare at him.

  “Oh sorry,” he says, only slightly amused. “I am your attorney. I’m being paid an absurd amount of money to make sure that you stay out jail. So let’s get to work.”

  “Did Maia hire you? Is she here?” I ask anxiously, trying to sit up. I notice Jade isn’t in the room, either.

  “I was hired by a phone call. I don’t know a Maia,” he answers shortly. Flipping through a notepad, he starts what I presume to be building my defense. “So the charges are accessory to murder and robbery. Pretty serious for a kid who’s enrolled at Brown University and has no major priors. Want to tell me what really happened?”

  I consider selling out Emmanuel. The fucker was planning on killing me, after all. But there’s a code in my neighborhood, and I’m not sure I want to break it just yet.

  I tell Phillip about the plan to rob the truck, how the second guard was in on it. I’m deliberately brief in my answers, careful not to implicate anyone.

  “Here’s the thing, kid,” Phillip says, leaning forward on his chair and clasping his hands together. “I have no time for this bullshit. I am one of the highest paid criminal lawyers in the country. So what I don’t do is sit in front of clients who want to withhold the truth. That guy, Emmanuel, who will live, by the way, after he slammed the getaway car into a pylon, will never leave you alone. In jail or when he gets out. Now, I need something to offer the DA, and with any luck, we may even be able to get out of court altogether if they come back with a decent plea bargain.”

  I look at the clock on the opposite wall. 11:45am. Maia should have been here by now. What the fuck is the point of even trying to be free? What’s waiting out there for me if she isn’t?

  I sigh. “Okay, I’ll tell you exactly what happened.”

  Phillip is right; Emmanuel will kill me either way. At least if he gets a long sentence and I get the fuck out of dodge, I have some chance at staying alive. I’m as good as dead in a prison with him. I sell Emmanuel out. Phillip arranges for my phone to be analyzed to retrieve whatever we can in the form of conversations between the two of us, to gather evidence to make my case.

  A lawyer for the prosecutor comes in awhile later, and I sign a statement attesting to my story. I wait anxiously for Phillip to come back from the DA’s office to learn my fate. What I really want to do is get up and find Maia.

  After several hours, Phillip comes back with a satisfied, smug smile on his face. “Well kid, you’re free.” A policeman follows him in and unshackles me from the bed rail.

  “What? Wait, really?” I am truly astonished by this news. I did not expect that.

  “Your friend had a number of outstanding warrants, and this is his third strike. He won’t be seeing the outside of a prison until well after retirement age.” I nod and avert my eyes downwards. Emmanuel may be the worst kind of person, but I still broke the code.

  Phillip clears his throat, and I look up from my bruised but now free wrist. Jade has walked back in and sits on the couch, pretending not to eavesdrop. “You really think that guy wouldn’t have sold you down the river in a heartbeat? You really should not feel guilty about this.”

  “You don’t understand,” I say dismissively. What could an obviously very rich lawyer know about a neighborhood like mine?

  As if reading my mind, Phillip retorts, “What would I know? More than you might think. I grew up in the Bronx in a one bedroom walk up with four siblings and no father. I worked my way through community college just for the chance to get into a university. I had plenty of opportunities to make money the easy way on those streets. So before you assume anything about anyone kid, make sure you know the facts.”

  I look at him with a new respect.

  “You are at an ivy league school, which is more than I started with. Fuck it up, and the only sell-out in here will be you.” Phillip’s voice is stern, almost paternal. “You’ve obviously got friends in high places who care about you, considering how much I charge.”

  “I don’t think I do,” I say, painfully reminded of Maia’s absence.

  Phillip leaves after saying his goodbyes, but his words resonate in my mind.

  Jade shifts noticeably in her seat. “So the blonde at the nurse’s station tells me that you can be discharged tomorrow. What’s the plan?”

  “Did Maia call?” I ask Jade anxiously. She shakes her head. “Did you try and call her?” I persist. She nods back at me, not meeting my eyes. From this vantage point, she looks a little pissed. “What?” I ask.

  “Her phone has gone to voicemail all morning. I think she may be avoiding my calls.”

  “Why would she do that?” My plans of making things right with Maia seem to be going down the shit chute, rapidly. “Unless…” I say with sadness. “Who could blame her?” I question with rising anger. “No one wants to be involved with a common thief.”

  “No!” Jade says sternly before jumping up from the sofa. “You and I are not doing this again. We are not repeating the whole Shana thing. I am not going to sit here and watch you fuck up your life for the next four years, or more.”

  I look away, and Jade walks over and cups my face in her hands. “Are you hearing me?”

  “I heard you,” I say quietly. I have never felt so broken in my life. This is all my fault. If I had just told Maia the truth, rather than try to protect her, none of this would have happened. I walk over to the bathroom door and give it a solid punch with my good arm.

  “Good idea Jackson, fuck up your good arm,” Jade says sarcastically.

  Jade’s right about one thing. That now is not the time to screw up my life a second time. Phillip’s words continue to resonate in the back of my mind. I can’t imagine the regret I’d feel if I didn’t at least try to convince Maia, beyond all question, that I need her to breathe.

  Chapter 33

  Maia

  I find hospitals to be the coldest and most depressing places on earth. And not because they are filled with the sick and dying, but because as the moments tick by, while my mother’s ventilator whooshes monotonously in the background, I’m reminded of the meaning of family. Little children run to hug relatives, adults embrace the hands of their elderly parents. The world is full of so much love for them. I’m happy for them, and also insanely jealous.

  My hand rests gently atop my mother’s. According to
the doctors, there are no signs of life, not yet; but Blake assures me that some coma patients are able to hear everything. So I talk. I tell her about school, about my life, about how I feel. It’s not until I start to tell her about Jackson that the tears come streaming down my cheeks.

  “I really do love him,” I say almost sobbing. “I’ve never felt so empty in my life. I screwed so much up. Then he left, and I don’t know how it all just fell apart. I miss him. I’m lonely. But that’s over now. Now I’m focusing on you. I should never have let things get this far. I’m so sorry. I should have been there. For you.”

  The curtain shuffles slightly behind me and I quickly wipe my eyes with my sleeve. Blake walks cautiously into the room. He looks every bit the lifesaving doctor in his white surgical coat, complete with a stethoscope hanging casually around his neck.

  “Hi,” I say softly.

  “Thought you could use some lunch,” he says quietly.

  I glance down at my watch. It’s closer to dinner than lunch, but I nod and give my mother a gentle kiss on the cheek before walking out with him. The hospital cafeteria is a hot mess, with ringing cell phones, exhausted looking family members, and a lot of very antsy children running around. We order and collect our food before Blake leads me to a table in the corner.

  It seems like a very long while before either of us speaks. Finally, he clears his throat. “It will be okay, Maia. One way or another, everything will work out the way it should.”

  I wonder how much of the Jackson conversation he heard. “I believe that Blake, I really do. But right now everything just feels so hopeless to me. What did I do to deserve so much support from you?” I ask gratefully.

  “I’m being a friend Maia, that’s all. You are beautiful. No man could possibly deny that, but you obviously have unresolved issues elsewhere,” he says looking down. “To be honest, I don’t think I can distract you from them completely.” So he did hear the conversation I had with my mother.

  “Then why waste your time?” I ask, feeling every bit as undeserving as I should.

  “Because that’s what friends do,” he replies simply. “And gentlemen don’t push too hard, either.” He gives me a reassuring and gorgeous smile before getting up to return our trays.

  My cell phone has remained perched on my bedside, minus the sim card, since my mother entered the hospital. I don’t know if Jade or Jackson has called, and the thought plays on my mind steadily throughout the day. I call my lawyer from a pay phone in the hospital lobby, and he advises me that the charges against Jackson have been dropped completely. I make a second call to the police station here to confirm that the charges are still holding against my father, and they are. I breathe a sigh of relief on both accounts. I’m anxious as to how Jade will react to me not showing up in Atlanta or calling, but I can only hope that once she knows my reasons, she will understand.

  It’s dark by the time I leave the hospital. My mother had no visitors today besides me. It’s no surprise, considering that in our society, this is a major scandal. Then a thought slams into me. I haven’t told Megs about what happened. Even if she was worried about my mother not coming home yesterday, there was no way for her to contact me, due to my disabled phone.

  I stop at the convenience store at the end of my street and buy a new sim card before racing home. As I’m shoving my wallet back into my bag, I slam into a body. I look up and Bryce’s irritating face is staring back at me, with a sympathetic smirk plastered on his face. He quickly shoves a pack of Magnum XXL condoms into his pocket. It seems someone is a touch presumptuous about his own size. I meet his smirk with one of my own.

  “Maia,” he breathes out.

  His voice grates at my nerves. Fucking ass. “Bryce,” I say curtly.

  “Hey, so sorry about your mother and your father being in prison, that’s rough.”

  “And you care, because?” I retort sarcastically.

  “Trying to be supportive, that’s all,” he says defensively, looking genuinely wounded. I don’t think he realizes how much of an ass he actually comes across as.

  “I’m sure it’s the talk of the town,” I say shortly. “We know how much Manhattan loves a good scandal.”

  Bryce looks down. “I’m genuinely sorry,” he says, and I almost feel sorry for being so hard on him. Almost. “On a brighter note, you must be happy that your boyfriend is back in town,” he says, smiling.

  My heart seizes. There’s no way I’m about to elude to the sleazy asshole that is Bryce that Jackson and I are not together. In part because I’m not in the mood for his unwanted advances, but more so because I don’t want to admit it to myself, just yet.

  “Yeah, it is great, isn’t it?” I say with an overly exaggerated smile.

  “Say hi to Morgan,” I jibe, before walking towards my car.

  My legs quiver unsteadily, and the minute I climb into my car I let out a huge sigh. “He’s back,” I say smiling. Then I realize that he’s not mine to welcome back anymore. And my heart sinks, all over again.

  Chapter 34

  Jackson

  Jade was not happy that I was going to Providence to win Maia back. I get it; she’s concerned. But the thing she should be more concerned about is me without her. Without Maia, I feel like I have no motivation, no purpose at all. In getting Maia back, I’m also saving myself.

  When I arrive back at my dorm, I find Ben in exactly the same place I left him, tucked into his bed, even though it’s five in the evening. The room smells suspiciously like weed, and I notice there are a number of pipes and beer bottles strewn around it. A dredded, Rastafarian-looking dude is splayed across my bed as well. I nudge his leg with my knee and he wakes slowly, rubbing his eyes.

  “Do you mind man?” I say as politely as I can manage.

  “Hey man,” he says with a drawl. “Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter, what matters is that you need to get the hell off my bed,” I say, losing patience.

  “Sure man,” he raises his hands in surrender before ambling slowly out the door. Gotta love the compliant nature of stoners. I shake my head.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Ben moans from his bed.

  “Visiting home,” I offer as the only explanation.

  “You may wanna wash those sheets,” he instructs before pulling the covers over his head.

  I stare down at the bed in disgust.

  The thing about forever, I’ve realized, is that it’s really not promised. The scar from the bullet that I took in my arm sliced straight across my infinity tattoo, the universe’s way of making sure that I never forget it, either.

  I shower, and then the first thing on my mind is finding Maia. It’s probably hopeless, but there are a few things that I need to say. If for nothing else, then closure. I check my email quickly and see a few messages from Shana with pictures of Daniella. Her innocent smile warms my heart. Every moment that passes since I came back here seems hell bent on reminding me of all the reasons that I can’t afford to fuck up the rest of my life. I feel like such a little bitch agonizing over what I should to wear to see Maia, and opt for what I wore the day I met her. Jeans and a white tee. I’m offering her myself, faults and all. That’s all I have to give her, anyway. And I hope to fucking God that that’s enough.

  I say a quick prayer as I turn the key in the Mustang’s ignition. My baby gives me a good solid rev on the first try. The closer I get to her apartment, the tighter the nervous knots in my stomach become. I park, but sit in the car wringing my hands together for a good ten minutes, trying to build up the courage to move. I rehearsed what I was planning to say to Maia over and over again in my head on the plane. Nothing sounded right, everything sounded so fucked up or desperate. What do I say? Sorry I left you, but I love you. Lame excuse. My mother always said the best conversations come from the heart and soul. So here goes nothing.

  Whatever I had planned to say flies straight from my mind when Maia opens her door. She stands in front of me with a scrub brush in hand and bl
oody-looking gloves on. Our eyes meet, and I can’t say anything. I notice the red rims around hers, as if she’s been crying or not sleeping or both.

  “Hi,” she says in a small, quiet voice.

  What the fuck happened, and why the fuck wasn’t I where I should have been when it did? “Maia, what happened?” I say, distraught.

  “Oh, this and that,” she says, her eyes welling up with tears.

  I know the blood is not my fault, but maybe the tears are. “Should I go?” I ask weakly, trying hard not to spook her.

  She shakes her head slowly, barely able to keep her composure, and moves aside for me to come in. I enter, and notice a large blood stain on the carpet in the hallway.

  “Maia,” I say gently, cupping her face in my hands. “Whatever it is, whatever you need, I’ll make it okay, I promise.” She nods and collapses into my arms, sobbing. I hold her there for a long while. Letting her cry, holding her up. Supporting her.

  I am so racked with guilt now, I can barely think straight. After peeling off the gloves, we sit on the sofa until she’s ready to talk. She tells me about her mother being in the hospital, her father in jail, and how everything went down. She tells me how supportive Blake has been, and I want to fucking punch him for trying to take my place, yet I also want to thank him for being there for her. My rage towards her father builds the more she talks, and with every passing word, my urge to kill him becomes stronger. For the sake of my own criminal record, I hope they lock him up for a very long time.

  The guilt over my absence remains, eating away at me as we sit together. “How did you end up arrested?” she asks me, concerned.

  I take a deep breath and tell her the entire truth. I tell her about Emmanuel, his threats, the robbery, the shooting. She doesn’t ask about the rest of my time in Atlanta, so I don’t mention it. And I feel like an asshole for it, but at this point I can’t afford to hurt her again. Not now.