by Anna Rezes
I waver on what to say. Everything that comes to mind sounds petty, but I can’t rein in my anger. In a fluid motion, I swing my bag over my shoulder and glare at this devilishly stunning, infuriating man. “At least I’m adult enough to know when I’m wrong, and man was I wrong! I take back my apology! I want nothing to do with you.”
He chuckles, as if unaffected.
“Go to hell, Patrick!” I turn and walk away, hoping and praying he doesn’t follow.
“Call me when you realize I’m right,” he yells after me.
I don’t look back, going straight to my next class. Class doesn’t help and by the time I’m walking to my car the acidic taste Patrick left me with is burning. This is when the cherry red Ferrari pulls up.
The dark passenger window rolls down, and a deep voice calls, “Emily?”
I’m too angry to talk to anyone, so I pretend not to hear him. I continue to walk away until a door opens, and I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to face the man.
“Emily, I just need a minute,” he insists. “I believe you’re dating my son. My name is Everett Cetrone.” He extends his hand and we shake.
He’s wearing a three-piece suit despite the ninety-five-degree weather. He tugs at his collar and says, “If you would join me in the car for a moment, I’d be grateful. It’s a very warm day.”
Even though he comes across as charismatic and charming, my insides warn me not to get in the car, but he’s Ben’s father, and I don’t want to be rude, so I get in without resistance. We shut the doors and the coolness surrounds us. I’ve never been in such an extravagant vehicle, and it makes me nervous that I’m sweating on such overpriced leather.
Everett breaks the silence. “So Emily, you’re dating Benjamin.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I suppose you know he’s declined his acceptance into Duke and Yale, among others.”
I rein in my surprise and act nonchalant. “I knew he declined a few schools.”
“He declined them all!” he growls. “Do you know why?”
I try to respect my elders, but his tone is filled with icy condescension, making my retort a little sarcastic. “He wants to pursue other things.”
“Other things? I guess slumming it with an opportunistic whore who has no future qualifies as other things,” he seethes. “Now, here’s what I’m willing to offer. You’ll get one-hundred-thousand to walk away from him and one-hundred-thousand each year for the next five years as long as you stay away from him.”
I’m shocked by his offer, horrified by his insults, but mostly I’m heartbroken for Ben. It takes a lot for me not to jump out and compel him to drive his precious car into a damn tree, but I take the high road . . . kind of. “You can keep your money, sir. This opportunistic whore doesn’t want it or need it. But I would like to thank you for helping me to understand why Ben calls you Everett instead of Daddy. You should be proud of your son because, despite you, he turned out to be an amazing man. I suspect he doesn’t want to go to those schools because you want him to go. He’s terrified of becoming anything like you. He’ll do anything to keep that from happening, even if it means he suffers because of it.” I open the door.
“I see through you, you money grubbing bitch! I know what you’re up to. You won’t get any money out of Benjamin. I’ll cut him off, and you won’t see a dime!”
I climb out of the car and lean back in. “Your money means nothing to me, and Ben doesn’t give a shit about his bank account. He would be happier with a father who valued him over money and reputation. If you keep this up, you’re going to lose your son.” I smile. “Personally, I don’t give a shit about you, but I’d do anything for Ben.” Standing straight, I slam the car door and turn away as the car speeds off. Ben is right, his father cares more about money than he does his children and it makes my heart bleed for them.
I’m driving down the road digesting Patrick’s accusations and Everett’s behavior when my sister calls. My new car is synced with my phone, so the ringing comes from the car’s speakers.
“Hey Sam,” I greet, grateful for the distraction.
“Emily Burk, you little bitch!” she shrieks from the speakers surrounding me. “I just left Dan’s parent’s house where I had to hear from Leah that you have a boyfriend!”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Benjamin Cetrone!” she shouts, and I turn the volume down. “Are you kidding me? How could you!”
“Samantha, I had no idea this would upset you. We just started dating.”
“You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking. Emily, how could you! You’re so selfish. You don’t think about anyone but yourself!” Her voice is angrier than when she started. She curses, there’s a shuffle, and a deep voice comes on the line.
“Hey Emily, it’s Dan,” he starts. “I think the reason Samantha’s so upset is because my sister, Leah, has had a not-so-secret crush on Ben for years. Leah is not happy about the idea of you two together. She’s refusing to be in the wedding. She thinks you’re trying to ruin her life and won’t stand next to you or your sister.”
I pull my car to the side of the road to keep myself from driving straight to Leah’s house and committing murder. Patrick thinks I’m capable of it and at this moment I’m pretty sure he’s right.
“Dan,” I manage through clenched teeth, “Leah is playing her, you’ve gotta know that.”
“I know,” he says, surprising me. I knew I liked Dan.
“Even if I weren’t in the picture, Ben would never go for Leah. She’s mean and manipulative, and he’s seen what she’s capable of. She slashed my tires, convinced the entire school I was a whore and filled my locker—books and all—with syrup. She hates me!”
“I didn’t know the extent, but I knew the general vibe of what she thought of you. Does Samantha know any of this?”
“No!” I rage, “And I don’t want her to know. I was hoping Leah would give it up when we graduated.”
“I’ll try to calm Sam down, but this is something she should know. I know how Leah is, but she’s my sister, and in the eyes of our parents she can do no wrong. I’ll try to talk to Leah, too.”
“I’d appreciate anything you can do, but please don’t tell Sam about the tires or the syrup.”
We hang up, and I stay on the side of the road sitting in silence for a while before I weave back into traffic.
When I get home, I remember Dad’s leaving on another business trip. This time he’ll be in Colorado for two days.
“I’ll have my phone on as soon as I land,” he says in place of hello, as I enter the living room. “If you need anything at all, please call. I’ll be back Saturday evening. I’ll call between meetings to check in.”
“I’ll make sure to have wild, crazy parties the whole time you’re gone.”
His eyes search my face. “Don’t worry, Samantha will calm down.”
I blow out a breath. “She called you?”
“Dan did.”
“Oh, shit.”
“We’re gonna talk about Leah when I get back,” he says, voice low. “You lied to me, Emily.”
“It was better if I just put up with it, Dad. If more people got involved, it would’ve become this big thing. I was protecting you and Sam. It didn’t need to involve anyone else.”
“Leah should have faced the consequences for her actions.”
“Dad, you’re not stupid. Leah’s family is wealthy and well- respected. Who do you think people would believe?”
He hugs me, saying, “Wealthy and well-respected doesn’t mean innocent.”
“Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“I do.” He pulls away. “In the future, don’t keep stuff from me, and especially don’t hide it because you think you’re protecting me.”
I nod.
“Promise me,” he demands.
“I promise.”
He gives me one last look and heads for the door, saying, “I’ll see you soon.”
“Have a safe
trip, Dad.”
I sit down to contemplate and realize I’ve done precisely what Patrick accused me of. I’ve tried and failed over and over to push Ben away, but I can’t let go. I’m inadvertently hurting him, just like Molly said. And now his father is threatening to cut him out of the family fortune because of my involvement. As if that’s not enough, Leah has lashed out at my sister, causing my dad to find out about my high school bully—all because I said too much. All because I let my walls down and allowed Ben to infiltrate my defense.
It’s time to build the walls back up on my ice castle, so people stop getting hurt.
twenty-six
I sit in the backyard with Maggie staring out into the darkness. I’ve missed two calls from my sister, three from Ben, and I ignore the voicemails and text messages.
My phone vibrates and Morgan’s face lights the screen. Before voicemail picks it up, I shove my emotions to the side and answer, “Hey.”
“You okay?” Morgan asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Your sister and Ben called asking about you. What’s going on?”
“Leah’s still trying to destroy my life while I destroy everyone close to me.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Of course, she doesn’t. Since when did I start speaking in Patrick riddles?
“Sorry Morgan, everything will be okay. I’ll call them,” I reassure her. “Oh, and Morgan, Alec will break your heart if you let him. He doesn’t know how to be serious, and I’m afraid he’ll ruin your faith in people. And that sucks because I think you’d be good together.”
“Uh . . . I’m umm . . . not sure what to say.”
“I know. We’ll talk soon.”
“Call me later, Emily.”
As I hang up, I hear Ben’s car coming down the street. The purr of the engine dies in front of my house, so I walk around from the backyard. I know I’m about to break his heart, but what other choice do I have?
“Ben,” I call.
He pauses halfway up the front walk, then changes his course to come toward me. He’s careful to keep a watchful eye on Maggie as she stands between us growling a protective warning.
“No Maggie,” I command. Her hair stays raised, but she retreats in silence.
“We were supposed to meet at my house at eight. It’s almost ten, and I couldn’t get a hold of you.” The contention in Ben’s voice is audible.
“I need to be alone,” I mumble.
“No!”
“Excuse me?”
“No, you’re not staying here alone tonight so you can spend all that time in your head. Who knows what’ll happen to you! Leah is not coming between us!” His body is tight, jaw tense as he stands too close.
“How do you know about Leah?”
“The only reason it took me so long to get here is because I stopped over there first. Leah won’t be bothering you anymore, and I called your sister to tell her all the things you wouldn’t.”
“Ben! What the . . . you . . .” I stutter, no longer numb, but furious. “How dare you!”
“Come here,” he says, taking a step closer.
I step away. “You have no right!”
“The hell I don’t!” His anger eclipses mine. “I just got you back. I’m not losing you again.” He grabs me and pulls me into his arms.
I push at his solid chest, but he doesn’t budge, so I plead with him, “Ben, please let me go.”
“Screw that! I’m not letting go.”
“Ben, damn it. Let me go!”
“Emily, if you can honestly tell me you don’t want me here, then I’ll go.”
He releases me, and I look up into his fierce brown eyes. I tell myself to lie to him. “Ben, I don’t . . . I don’t want you to go,” I say in a weak voice, stepping into him. His arms wrap around me and I surrender, my anguish turning to tears against his chest.
This is how I end up on Ben’s couch with my head against his shoulder. We don’t talk about Leah, and I don’t tell him about the run-in I had with his dad. He patiently allows me to remain silent even when he has every right to demand more. Instead, we drown our thoughts by watching TV, and within an hour I fall asleep.
Water is dripping nearby. I open my eyes to search for the source of the noise and find myself lying in a warm puddle on a tile floor. I look up to find a steady drip coming from above. Blood falls from the body of a beautiful woman slumped in a chair. It hits the tile floor and pools around me warm and sticky. I stand from the puddle to look into the glazed blue eyes of the lifeless woman. What begins as another bad dream turns into much more when my mind identifies the woman slumped in the chair. Recognition has my synapses firing on overdrive, starting a chain reaction I have no control to stop.
Like a bolt of lightning, I’m struck by a flash of light so bright it rips through my flesh and bones. It tears into my brain and sends a shock of electricity to every nerve in my body. I’m very much awake and want to scream, but the current flowing through me doesn’t allow for movement.
A burst of images plays like a motion picture inside my skull. Snapshots of my lost memories piece themselves back together in an array of movement. I hear snip-it’s of my mother’s voice. I smell the gel Ben used to wear in his hair. I feel my first kiss. I taste the bitter pill I’m forced to swallow in the hospital. I remember the pain of having my memories sucked away from me. It’s very similar to the pain I feel now.
I try to focus on the memories, but I’m lost in pure sensation. I feel I’ve been thrown into a tornado; the wind lashes at my skin and the missing pieces of my life whirl around me like shrapnel. I cannot escape. I pray for the fire to burn out and the memories to stop. I’m struggling within myself, wanting and needing all of the memories, but at the same time, the pain is overwhelming.
The cascading memories finally slow until all I see are her bright blue eyes. Those eyes are forcing me to remember, the same way they forced me to forget. I remember the woman my mother trusted with my safety and I recognize her from Patrick’s memory. His mother saved my life, yet she was unable to save her own. Along with regaining my memories, I get flashes of her last moments, like the two intertwine.
She’s sitting in a white room with no windows as teenage Patrick is being hauled away. He’s covered in her blood and is screaming and lashing out at the men who are forcefully dragging him from the room and down the hall. Patrick’s agonizing sobs fade as another door slams. Patrick’s mother looks down to the empty floor and says, “Tell Patrick I’ll always love him and tell him it wasn’t his fault. Emily, it’s up to you now. You must fight.” I witness the life fade from her eyes. The sticky heat from her blood lingers on my skin. My burning pain comes to an end, and I’m left feeling raw and powerless. I’m unsure of how she was able to share her last moments with me, and it leaves me feeling unnerved.
I pull myself back to the present and remember I’m leaning against Ben. Did he experience all of those things along with me? I push away to better judge his expression, but when I open my eyes, I can’t see anything. I hear the television, so I know I’m awake.
“Ben?” I ask into the darkness.
“Yeah.”
“Why is it so dark in here?”
I feel him shift in his seat next to me. “It’s . . . Em, look at me. Hold on,” he says, as he jets off the couch. I hear footfalls on the carpet and then the click of a light switch.
“Ben, please say something.”
“Your eyes,” he breathes, “they’re . . . Your pupils and irises are gone. Your eyes are all milky white. Can you see?”
“No,” I whisper, terrified.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“No!” I panic.
He stops. “Why not?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Em, this is not fine!”
“Just give me a minute to think,” I say, not understanding what’s happening. Could this be normal for an Olvasho? What if I nev
er see again?
“Come on, Em, you can think on the way.”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because!” I yell, showing just how scared I am.
The TV goes quiet as Ben settles next to me. It’s silent except for the slow intake and exhale of his breath, then he patiently says, “I’m trying to understand. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Help me understand.”
“It’s comp—”
“Complicated, I know!” His patience is gone. “Tell me anyway!”
“I’m different, Ben, and some people want me dead because of it, but . . . you’re not supposed to get involved.”
He takes another breath. “I’m already involved. Who wants you dead, Emily?”
“Can we focus on one problem at a time, please?” I motion to my eyes. “Clearly, this isn’t normal.”
“Clearly, but just a second ago you told me you were fine.”
“Yeah, well . . . we need to call my dad.”
Ben gets up to walk across the room. I hear him ruffle through my bag before he comes back to sit next to me, saying, “It keeps going straight to voicemail.”
“Then . . . you’re not going to like this, but I need you to call Patrick.”
“Em, you’re gonna have to explain that to me.”
I rest my hand on his bouncing knee attempting to calm him. “Ben,” I soothe. “Please call Patrick. His number is in my phone. He might know what to do. He might be able to fix this.” I motion to my eyes and then move my hands to feel for his face. My fingers graze his lips, and I lean in to kiss him.
“Your eyes are really spooky,” he says, and then a moment later, “Here, it’s ringing.” He places the phone in my hand as he abandons the couch.
I put the phone to my ear just in time to hear Patrick’s say, “Well, that didn’t take long.”
“I’m blind!”
“I don’t doubt it after the kind of power you just used, love.”
“How did you know?”
“I’d be surprised if any Olvasho within fifty miles didn’t feel that surge of energy,” he says, reminding me how little I know about this new part of me.