Broken Fairytales

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Broken Fairytales Page 9

by Monica Alexander


  My response? “Nothing.”

  To which my mother crossed her arms, gave me a knowing look and said, “Emily, don’t give me that. Something’s wrong. I can tell.”

  Well, duh.

  “Is it something with Ben? Did you get in a fight? Is it Rachel?” she probed.

  I sighed, long and deep, and looked out the kitchen window at the people jogging and walking their dogs on the beach.

  “No Mom. It’s not anything with Ben. We’re fine. Rachel’s fine too.”

  “Then what is it?” she asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.

  I shrugged it off. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  She gave me a stern, motherly look. “It’s not nothing. Are you on drugs?”

  I almost laughed out loud at that question, but I knew it would only make her more suspicious. She’d probably think I really was on drugs if I laughed at her. I just rolled my eyes instead. It was ridiculous that because I was in a bad mood, she automatically assumed that I was ingesting illegal substances, but Chase walked around the house stoned most of the time, and she never even realized it.

  “Mother, I am definitely not on drugs,” I said firmly, as I crossed my arms over my chest, matching her stance. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of that!”

  “Okay, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. I’m just concerned about you. You seem upset about something. You’re not pregnant are you?”

  I let my head fall to the table, banging it lightly against the wood for a few beats. “No, I’m not pregnant,” I said, lifting my head slowly. “I’m fine.”

  “No, honey, you’re not, but I understand if you don’t want to tell me. Just know that I’m here if you want to talk, okay?”

  “I know,” I said, thinking that even if I did tell her she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. What was I supposed to say? ‘So, Mom, I’m pretty miserable about everything right now, so I’m thinking of shaking things up a bit – maybe dropping out of Gamma Pi, breaking up with my boyfriend, who you adore, and moving to New York after graduation. Oh, and by the way I didn’t tell you about the fight I got into over Ben and our subsequent twelve hour break-up, followed by a tearful conversation in which he begged me back only to realize days later that I might have made the wrong choice. What do you think?’

  No, that wouldn’t work. She’d just try to talk to me about how amazing Ben was and how I should marry him, and how she would just hate it if two of her kids lived so far away. She would be supportive, but in the wrong way. Then she’d probably also tell me I was twenty-one and way past the age at which I could get away with being a sullen teenager. She’d tell me to grow up, and I didn’t want to hear it. I already knew I was being immature and petulant. I didn’t need to be reminded of it.

  Of course as an actual teenager, I’d never gone through a rebellious phase. I’d been too focused and determined to waste my time rebelling against my parents. In hindsight, maybe if I’d acted out when I was sixteen like most normal kids, it would have been more accepted. Now I’m sure it just seemed grossly overdue and a little late in the game to be effective.

  “Okay,” she said, looking directly at me as I continued to look away. A tall, lanky guy with a golden retriever caught my eye, and I focused on him until he disappeared from my view. It was only then that I turned back to face my mother.

  “Can I go?” I asked, staring into her overly concerned face. She was making me feel guilty for being upset, and I hated that.

  She nodded.

  With that I got up, turned on my heel and walked away. A part of me felt bad for treating my mother like I was, but I had too much anger boiling inside of me to let my actions toward her affect me. I pushed aside my guilt and walked back upstairs.

  Chase was allowed to sulk all the time. Keely was known for being the family brat. But, me, as the ‘nice one’, I was expected to be sunshine and flowers day in and day out. It just wasn’t fair. Even my own mother couldn’t accept the fact that I wasn’t smiling. That thought just made me angrier as I shoved the essentials into my beach bag and headed out, letting the screen door slam behind me. Randy barked at me as I went, no doubt wondering why I hadn’t stopped to give him some love, but I just didn’t have much patience in that moment, even for him.

  Chase was standing off to the side of the house where he knew our mother couldn’t see him, smoking a cigarette. I started to walk past and ignore him, but decided against it, wheeling around so I was face-to-face with him.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why what?” He looked just shy of annoyed that I’d stopped to chat. He took a drag off his cigarette and stared at me expectantly.

  “Why do you get away with all sorts of shit, and I’m lectured about not smiling for one goddamn day?” He shrugged. “Seriously Chase, I’m sick of it. Why do I have to be the good one all the time?”

  Pushing himself off the house and standing upright, he looked down at me from his full height, “You don’t,” he said, as if it were that simple.

  “Yes, I do. It’s the way it’s always been. It’s what they expect!” I gestured back toward the house.

  He laughed a sort of non-humorous laugh and looked over my shoulder at something. “Who expects that?”

  I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Mom and Dad, Ben, my friends, everyone!”

  “You’re ridiculous,” was all he said.

  I glared at him. “I’m not ridiculous!” I knew it wasn’t the best retort, but my brain was so muddled that I had trouble thinking about anything else. “It’s true. They all expect me to be so perfect. It sucks!”

  “If you’re so tired of being good, then don’t do it anymore,” he said, looking at me like was a moron for not figuring it out on my own. “You’re a fucking adult. If you don’t want to do something, don’t do it.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

  “What?” he asked, stubbing his cigarette out against the house and tossing it in the sand. With one swift motion, it was buried where no one could see it. Then he popped a piece of gum in his mouth to hide to odor of his bad habit.

  “I can’t just be bad. I’ve never been bad in my life.”

  “You drink,” he said.

  “Yeah, so what. That’s nothing. Do you know how many times I’ve been drunk in my life? I’ll tell you. Three! That’s it. Three freaking times, and it wasn’t even that fun. I’m not a good drunk – case and point, the other night!”

  Chase nodded, knowingly.

  “I’ve never smoked – a cigarette or otherwise,” I continued. “I have never done anything dangerous or reckless, and I’m nice to everyone, including Ashleigh Ballast who seems intent on sleeping with my boyfriend!”

  Chase raised his eyebrows.

  “Okay, well, I guess you can’t say that I’m nice to her anymore, but I put up with her shit for a long time. She deserved to get hit.” I was on a roll and was getting out of breath from ranting.

  “She’s a bitch,” was all he said, and I took it to mean he agreed with me.

  “Anyway, my point is that I am always on guard. I never have any real fun! I’m never reckless. I’m rigid,” I said, making a face as I echoed what he’d said about me. I waited for him to say ‘I told you so’, but he didn’t, so I continued my rant. “I liked being out of control the other night. It felt good. I want to do it again, but without the physical violence, obviously.”

  He held out his pack of cigarettes, offering one to me.

  I shook my head violently. “No, thank you,” I said, and then clamped by hand over my mouth. It was like I couldn’t be anything but polite.

  Chase just laughed at me. “You so need to loosen up.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Fine, well, there’s a bonfire tonight down by the jetty. I’m going with some people I met if you want to come.”

  “Will there be beer?” I asked him.

  Chase looked at me skeptically. �
��Um, yeah. There will be beer.”

  “Good. I’m getting wasted tonight.”

  “Are you going to be able to handle yourself?” he asked, with good reason.

  “Yes,” I said definitively, knowing there wouldn’t be anyone at the party I’d want to lash out at, so I’d be good. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Alright then,” he said, smiling slightly at my stated goal.

  My brother was smiling at me and not in a mocking way. He was smiling at me in a more endearing way. It was so strange.

  “I will see you later,” I said sharply, turning away from him and walking toward the beach, half-shocked that I’d just had the most civil conversation I’d had with my brother in seven years and also made plans to hang out with him. What was happening? Who was this girl who’d taken over my brain? I wasn’t sure, but I kind of liked her. She had moxie.

  Chapter Ten

  Later that night, I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom appraising my outfit. I was going to hang out with my brother and people he’d met. This would not be the usual fraternity and sorority crowd I was used to. I nervously smoothed my straight, shoulder-length hair, wondering what I was getting myself into. Instead of slipping into the flowered sundress I initially picked out, I opted for jeans, a white boyfriend tank top, and flip flops, hoping I looked just a little bad-ass.

  I dug out some funky jewelry and spent twenty minutes copying the instructions in Glamour on how to create smoky eyes. For good measure, I added some sheer lip gloss. A look in the mirror told me I looked much different than usual but not really bad-ass. I looked more like Kristin Bell playing a bad girl in a movie. Oh well, not much I could do about that.

  At eight, I nervously knocked on Chase’s bedroom door.

  “Enter,” he called out, so I did. He was just shutting the window as I walked in. From the look, and smell of things, he’d been smoking.

  Seeing my face, he methodically produced a bottle of Febreeze and sprayed it around the room. My brother was nothing if not an expert in disguising what he did.

  He shot me a lazy smile. “You ready to get wasted,” he said, and I could tell he was mocking me.

  “Screw you,” I said, bringing us back to the reality of our relationship.

  “Ah, see, you really are a bitch at heart,” he said, as he checked his reflection in the mirror, arranging a few of his carefully placed spikes to look more natural. I had trouble countering his comment, as his assessment of me was sort of what I’d been aiming for as of late.

  “You want a shot?” Chase asked, gesturing to the bottles of vodka, whiskey and tequila lined up on his dresser. It looked like he’d already had a shot or two that night.

  I shook my head. “No thanks. I think I’ll stick with beer.”

  Chase rolled his eyes as he poured some whiskey into the shot glass and threw it back without a second thought. I shivered involuntarily just watching him. He gave me a look that told me how juvenile he thought I was being. I just wasn’t a big drinker, and I’d never tried anything stronger than beer.

  I watched him mess with his hair for a few more seconds before he finally turned to me with a look that said he was ready to go. I appraised my brother’s overall look as he walked toward me, noticing for the millionth time how very different we were. Chase had the bad boy look down pat. He had on torn and faded jeans, a dark gray Diesel t-shirt with some obscure design on the front and black Converse sneakers. His dark hair and dark, thick lashes complimented his olive skin, and his eyebrow ring glinted in the light from the lamp on the dresser. On his left wrist was a black leather cuff with flat silver studs, and he had a plain silver ring on this thumb. He looked like a bad-ass. I just looked like I was trying too hard.

  As Chase passed by me, I saw him again assess my look. He was probably thinking God knows what about me but didn’t say anything directly. I chose the brief look he shot me over picking his brain. I knew the kind of verbal sparing match we could get into over something trivial like a comment about my outfit and thought I should probably steer clear of picking fights with the guy who was giving me a ride to a place I was not familiar with. I planned on coming home later, so I would need him at the end of the night.

  Instead, I followed him silently downstairs, past Keely who was watching TV and waiting for some guy named Matt to pick her up. She’d met him on the beach the day before, and they were going out. I waved to her as we left, receiving a puzzled look in return as she took in who I was with. I just shrugged in response, figuring I could explain later.

  I continued to follow Chase thinking we’d be taking my car, but he walked right past it, down to the end of the driveway.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, hurrying to keep up with him.

  “To meet Molly,” he said, as if I knew who Molly was.

  “Who?”

  “Just this girl I met. She’s cool. We’re meeting her at her house.”

  “Okay,” I said, wondering if my brother was hooking up with this Molly chick.

  It turned out that Molly’s huge beach house was just down the road from ours. Molly herself was waiting on the vast porch when we walked up. As soon as she saw Chase, she got up from where she was sitting on the steps and came toward us, kissing my brother on both cheeks when she reached him.

  I tried not to stare, but it was hard. Molly was gorgeous in an unconventional, hypnotic sort of way. From far away, it looked like she had blond highlights, in her straight, shoulder-length hair, but when she got closer, I could see that the top half of her hair was platinum blonde whereas the underneath part was a deep purple. Her bangs were cut in a jagged sort of way that made her look edgy, her violet eyes were lined in thick black eye liner and her lips were stained a dark red. She had a ring on the right side of her lower lip and a small diamond stud on the left side of her nose that sparkled in the overhead light from the street lamp. She was wearing a mid-drift bearing black tank top, a plaid pleated miniskirt and platform black boots that laced up to her knees. She’d pretty much achieved the look I’d been going for but never would have been able to pull off.

  “Took you fucking long enough. Everyone else already left,” Molly said to Chase in a surprisingly British accent. The she directed her attention to me. “Hi! I’m Molly.”

  She extended her hand to shake mine which felt incredibly formal for the way she was dressed.

  I took it hesitantly and ended up giving her a weak finger shake. “I’m Emily.”

  “Ah, the elusive Emily,” she said, and I didn’t know what to think, but I didn’t have time to ask either, because she turned her attention back to Chase. “I’m not fucking kidding. I’ve been waiting for like twenty minutes. I’m almost completely out of cigarettes. I’ve been chain-smoking like a fucking fiend.”

  “Sorry,” Chase said, “I had to do something before we left.”

  “I can see that, and apparently you’ve forgotten your manners.”

  I wasn’t really sure what they were talking about, so I just stayed quiet and watched, pretty convinced that if my brother wasn’t sleeping with this girl, he was going to. She was just his type, or what I had always imagined his type to be, and they definitely seemed to be flirting with each other, even if it wasn’t the kind of flirting I was used to.

  “Ah, but I’m not,” he said, producing something from his pocket that I couldn’t see. “For you.”

  Molly’s eyes lit up when she saw it. I watched her take it from his hand. Then he handed her a lighter, and I knew what she’d gotten so excited about. She stood there for a moment, the joint between her lips, and I watched her expertly light it, take a long, full drag, hold her breath and exhale all at once, before smiling and passing the joint to Chase. He took a drag and passed it back to her.

  “You really have forgotten your manners, Chase. Emily didn’t get any.”

  “Emily doesn’t smoke,” Chase said, at the same time I said, “Oh, thanks, but I’m good.”

  I’d wanted to save face and not look like a total lo
ser in front of this girl, but Chase had just ruined that for me.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” she said, taking the joint from him. “More for us.”

  They started walking then, so I sort of fell into step behind them, wondering again what I was getting myself into. A few blocks later, we turned left down a path that cut through a grouping of pine trees. Not a big fan of nature, I wondered how long I’d have to rough it when suddenly the trees cleared and the beach was upon us. About fifty yards away was group of about thirty people scattered around a large, blazing bonfire.

  Realizing how hard it was to walk in the sand in flip flops, I quickly took off my shoes and ran a few steps to catch up with Chase and Molly who, despite their inebriated statuses, were surprisingly fast walkers. Molly’s boots never slowed her down one step.

  As soon as we made it to the bonfire, Molly took off toward a group of people she knew, waving wildly in response to their shouts at her. I noticed the same tall, lanky guy I’d seen on the beach, give her a hug. Then I was left alone with my brother who was surveying the area, no doubt looking for the keg.

  He spotted it on the other side of the bonfire and started walking, not bothering to check that I was still behind him. In fact, he hadn’t said a word to me since we’d met up with Molly. I scrambled to catch up to him, not wanting to be left alone at a party that was quite obviously not my scene. Chase silently filled a cup of beer and handed it to me before filling one of his own.

  “So what’s up with Molly?” I asked, trying to engage him in some kind of conversation.

  He turned around to face me, a serious look on his face. “She’s a friend,” he said, not going into any more detail than that.

  “Are you sleeping with her?”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to sleep with her?”

  “No.”

  “Do you like her?”

  Chase put his hand up, looking exasperated. “Em, this isn’t Sex and the City, and I’m not one of your sorority sisters who has nothing better do than talk about who likes who and who’s hot and who’s a bitch. If you’re going to hang with me, you need to take it down a notch.”

 

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