by LJ Byrne
“It’s not weak. You were dealing with a lot. Mom told me you needed some time, but that you were okay. I guess she felt it was safe to tell me that. I wish she’d told me the details. Don’t be too mad at Mason. He did ask me about you. I told him what Mom said. He probably reported it to Brock and Lucas. But it’s upsetting that they hurt you so badly, made you feel so low.”
Bruce rubs my arm sympathetically. “I wish we’d pushed harder. Your dad was furious. I think he would’ve killed someone if he could’ve.”
I sip my hot chocolate and Charles smiles fondly. I think it’s unfortunate that I never felt anything for Charles other than friendship, but I’m glad I can still trust him. “You never need to be ashamed of anything you do, Elena. As for what happened out there… You have two guys who like you.”
“Four,” Katrina corrects still brushing my hair. “Mason’s had a crush on you since last year. But I think he knows he’s not a good fit for you.” When I turn to look at her, she twists her lip. “I would love to have you both be all cozy with each other, but you need something different in your life. Brock has had a crush on you since he heard you play – or so Mason tells me. Again, Brock is only one dimension. You’re wickedly brilliant, Elena. I think you like music, but it’s an outlet for you, not your life. Music is Brock’s life. Eventually, it would wear you down.”
“I should just pick you,” I grumble.
Bruce bumps me gently. “Hey, that’s my girl you’re trying to steal. Unless you’re proposing a three—ow!”
Charles smacks his brother across the head. “Don’t be an ass. We just had to deal with two guys being asses out there.” He jerks his thumb to the door.
As if on cue, someone knocks. Katrina hisses. “Tell them to fuck off.”
Charles opens the door and Mason barges in, dark blue eyes worried. “I thought Katrina would know if you were okay or not. I asked a few times and all she did was slam doors in my face or give me the finger.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. I know we went too far, but how can you stand us after what we did?” Mason blurts out in frustration. “We’re no better than Vanessa or Thomas or Ben.” His face falls. “I’m so sorry, Elena. Brock’s sorry, too, but he couldn’t even bring himself to come here.”
I listen. I need to talk to Brock, but I’m waylaid by Lucas and Jasper showing up.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Katrina stomps her feet in emphasis. “You two with your cock challenges should not be here! Go measure your penises somewhere else!”
Katrina’s strange mix of words makes us all pause. Mason shakes his head.
Jasper wears a perfectly contrite expression. “If we could speak to Elena privately?” he asks.
Katrina waits for me to answer. “It’s fine,” I say. I’m tired. I have too many things going on. I’m weeks away from losing my privacy. The whole situation feels like a ticking time bomb.
Katrina grabs Bruce’s hand. “We’ll be down the hallway with Mason. If I come back and she’s upset, I won’t hesitate in causing you both bodily harm.”
Once everyone leaves me alone with Jasper and Lucas, Jasper slumps on the bed without asking permission. “We’re both here to apologize for being—”
“Dicks. We were being dicks,” Lucas states bluntly. “We haven’t even asked you out or made it clear what we’re doing.”
“I betrayed your trust.” Jasper leans against the wall, his face grave. “I swore I would never mention it again. I lost—control.”
The similarity between Lucas and Jasper is the need for control. I might have a fair share of it, too, but in a far different way. I hate that I lost control – lost my willpower – and succumbed to morose thoughts that night. I hate that Jasper saw me that way. Broken. Pathetic. Weak. I hate that occasionally I don’t understand why my feelings overwhelm me.
Lucas’s mouth tightens for a moment. “I deserve your hate.” Something like devastation crosses his face.
Hate is such a strong word. There isn’t any turmoil within me right now, just a strange quiet and a certain emptiness. It’s so easy to want to fade from the complexities of human emotions.
“Don’t do that,” Lucas breathes, crossing to me in one smooth movement and grabbing me by the shoulders. “Don’t disappear into your head, don’t hide.” He presses his forehead against mine. “Hate me. Punish me. But don’t disappear. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t protect you. That you endured all that. It kills me knowing that you wanted to die and that I might have lost you then. I still have nightmares where I feel your lifeless body in my hands. I only know that I can’t lose you right now. I wouldn’t survive it.”
Jasper makes a sound in his throat. “You don’t have to choose now,” he says with quiet calm. “I’m not tethered to my surviving parent. My money is mine to do what I will. Choose me and I’ll even let you keep a boy toy or two on the side if it makes you happy. I came to Highbury to help you. And I’ll stay until you’ve accomplished what you want. I’ve been reckless and restless all my life. But you’re my match. Brilliant, focused, talented. You won’t let me get away with anything.”
I pull back from Lucas to look at him. He’s breathing unevenly, waiting for me to say something. They both are. I debate what I might say and decide to go with brutal honesty. “I have too much going on. And that makes everything confusing because I don’t have time to waste brainpower thinking about either of you.” I pause, measuring my next words. “I did break that one time. I didn’t expect to, but I didn’t want to face my failure. I should’ve anticipated more. I was distracted. I hated myself for wanting something so petty, for wanting something so mundane and—”
“Normal,” Lucas finishes for me. “You wanted to feel normal. You wanted something pure.”
I jerk my head towards Jasper. “Wait, did you really say boy toy?” Jasper is now officially weird on top of dangerous.
Jasper lets out a low, rough laugh. “I did. And I meant it. Because I don’t care how many toys you play with or how many you have as long as I get you in the end. I did tell you I’m not quite sane, right?”
I scrunch my face a little. “You did.” Is it weird that his intensity doesn’t scare me? “Try not to get obsessive.” Too late. “I need you two to get along. Think you two can manage that? No posturing between the two of you, none of this she’s mine crap. No one owns me. I’m no one’s reward. Got it?”
The two share a wary glance before they nod.
Lucas finds me as I leave Brock’s room. I’d spent the better part of an hour talking to Brock. In many ways, I knew that Brock would take things hard. I’ll never know at what point Brock wanted to back out of the convoluted plan and just tell me what was happening. I do know that the moment I saw Ashley in his lap, I could forgive him as a friend but never as a girlfriend. You don’t use girls that way. He didn’t just mess around with her. He slept with her. I understand there are things such as instant attraction and desire, but all of that is colored by perception. My perception of him altered irrevocably that night.
At the same time, the reason why I hesitated to let Jasper use that damning video is that Brock’s belief in himself is hinged on music. Now that it’s been ripped away, he’s lost and ashamed at how far he’s fallen. Hence my talk.
Lucas’s face is rigidly calm, but the flash of suspicion is quickly hidden. “Do you have a moment?” he asks, following me back to the room I share with Katrina.
“What is it?” I’m genuinely curious.
A hesitation. A moment of uncertainty. “I know you don’t accept presents,” he begins.
“I don’t accept handouts and I don’t accept attempts to buy me,” I correct and there’s a hint of relief from him.
He has his hands in his pockets as he addresses me. “You’re not an easy person to give presents to,” he tells me, pulling out a box the size of his hand. “I bought this for you at Christmas, but I was afraid you wouldn’t accept it. B
ut I want you to.” His throat moves as he shifts.
I open the jeweler’s box. Inside, there is a platinum necklace of milky oval stones and blue gems.
“Moonstones. I was told it symbolizes hope, emotional protection, and faithfulness. And sapphires. For wisdom and protection.” His mouth curves into a slight smile. “I don’t believe in all of that, but I thought you might appreciate the symbolism.”
“Lucas,” I start but then I stop when his eyes become guarded. I’m not stupid. There is no way this necklace is cheap.
“Elena, I’m not asking for anything. I just…” A flash of pain. Dejection. “Never mind. I won’t make you accept it if you don’t want it.” A cold mask of indifference settles on his face as his hands drop to his side.
I gently lift the necklace from the box. “Will you help me put this on?” I ask, holding the necklace out to him.
A flicker of pleasant surprise. His fingers are warm as they brush my hand, taking the shimmering strand from me. I turn, lifting my hair out of the way. As he drapes the strand of moonstones around my neck, his hands tremble faintly against my skin as they linger and caress.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” I’m a little shy as the cool stones warm against my skin. Instinctively, I reach out to kiss him, but he meets me halfway.
For the video composition I did with Jasper, we kissed a few times trying to get a scene right. There was something warm and fuzzy about it, a slow tension every time we practiced the scene. When Lucas and I kissed in New York, there was something new and tentative between us. This kiss is different. It triggers what I can only describe as anticipation as his hands clasp my elbows to keep me there. He wants more. And I’m starting to think I do, too.
The thing about any level of genius is that hormones interfere with productivity. In fact, I got more done cloistering myself in a room over the summer in one day than my months at school. Lucas, and in some respects Jasper, too, interfere with my focus.
I end the kiss because I need to. And if our breathing is a little uneven, if we notice that we’re both trembling, we don’t mention it as I step back and return to my room.
CHAPTER 12
KATRINA
It takes little energy to convince the administration to call an assembly. A semi-threatening phone call from one Elizabeth Maverick with a gentle nudge by yours truly plus a request by the governor helps, too. So, on a beautiful Friday, the entire school is pulled into a mandatory assembly.
I walk with Charles and Bruce at my side, Mason, Jasper, and Lucas following behind us. We don’t sit in the back where Vanessa and Kiana are with their devotees. Principal Foggerty makes the announcement.
“As many of you know, the focus this year has been to restore Highbury’s reputation in the country. Due to several students,” she continues, pinning her eyes first on Vanessa and then on Lucas, “behaving in a way contrary to our values, there has been increased scrutiny on our school. Today, we will watch BSGirl’s live interview because she has been such a role model for many bullied teens in the country and the world.”
A twitter of excitement swells through the students. Bruce’s wink forces me to stifle a laugh while Mason and Lucas exchange a knowing look. Jasper’s ever-present smirk tells me he’s looking forward to this, but I suspect no one except me knows why Brock isn’t here. In fact, at some point, Mason asks, “Where’s Brock today?”
The auditorium darkens a bit as the live video of BSGirl’s interview begins. The show does not begin with the host, Aurora Wilson, talking at all. Instead, the camera pans to a darkened stage where we see two bodies: one is seated on a stool with a guitar, the other is seated at the piano. A single spotlight comes on, focusing on Brock perched on his stool. He begins strumming a subdued melody dressed in black denim and a dark shirt. There’s a collective gasp as the piano begins and a second light focuses on BSGirl, wearing her familiar harlequin mask.
Brock:
If I could turn back time, I’d go back and change my tune
If I could go back to then, I’d tell myself that I was a fool
I didn’t move when I saw your face
I let them hurt you and take your grace
And when you looked at me, I never said
That I was sorry for not standing with you then.
When I look back at all my mistakes
Your tears are in the memories I can’t erase
If I’d been braver then I would’ve held your hand
But I was too much of a lesser man
Is it too late to say I’m sorry now?
I think about if now you’re looking around
And when you see that you’re in a better place
I hope you see the tears on my face
There’s a brief interlude of piano playing as the guitar fades to backup and the piano sounds become a little more vibrant. Brock turns to look at BSGirl as she begins to sing.
BSGirl:
If you could see me now, I’d go back and put you in your place
I just don’t know how people thrive on all the pain they taste
It’s hard to be brave when people see you fall.
It’s harder to be strong when you hear that call.
And when you look at me, could you say
That you would stand with me, not push me away?
It’s too late to say you’re sorry now
I think about you when I’m looking down
And now I see I’m in a better place
Your tears are something that I can’t erase
At this point, Brock doesn’t hide his tears as he sings again. It almost seems like he’s singing directly to BSGirl, contrition written all over his face.
Brock:
If I could turn back time, I would go and take your place
If I could go back to then, I’d stand up to all that hate
I would know what I didn’t know back then
That all you needed was one true friend
But I let my ego get in my way
Can you forgive me for what I didn’t say?
Is it too late to say I’m sorry now?
I think about if now you’re looking around
And when you see that you’re in a better place
I hope you see the tears on my face
After Brock ends his last line, the melody continues for a bit longer before ending on a sweetly sad note. Brock wipes his eyes before walking to BSGirl. He takes her extended hand and kisses it almost reverently before escorting to center stage where he helps her remove her mask.
The entire student body – except for our little crew – gasps loudly. Elena takes the microphone and begins talking passionately. Her speech is focused and moving. She talks about the history of bullying and how society thinks it’s okay to belittle others to feel better. She addresses perfectionism that we see in magazines, in movies, on social media. She addresses the harm that bullying does not just to the victim, but to friends and even to the bully. Her voice is strong and focused as she addresses the millions tuning in. “You say you want a better world and you want to be kind. It starts with you. You make a stand: in person, online. It’s not just about saying no; it’s about changing your perspective. If you’ve ever made fun of someone because they believed differently or acted differently, that’s a form of bullying. I’m not naïve. We will never achieve a perfect state. It isn’t within human nature to be perfect. We must embrace that we won’t always make the right call. We have to accept mistakes.”
Brock then takes over, talking about his own recent incident. He addresses how not thinking about your words – and how it impacts others – is the first sign of awareness. He’s honest in addressing homophobia – how fear leads to ignorance and how ignorance easily leads to hate. He doesn’t shy away from his mistakes, admitting he’s hurt people because he didn’t think a flippant comment would mean anything.
On the stage, Brock holds Elena’s hand tightly as she issues her final statement. Her voice is soft as she talks about
her journey to BSGirl: how the world was easier to face when she was hiding behind a mask. She talks about how frightening it is to face bullies in real life and online, but that if she doesn’t make a stand now – if she hides behind a mask forever – then that sends the wrong message. People shouldn’t have to hide. She includes people who are bullied for being too poor, too thin, too big, too smart, too anything. She includes those persecuted for religious beliefs, for the color of their skin.
Elena is powerful, clear, persuasive: hope for bullied people, hope for change, and hope for kids around the world who feel alone.
The screen fades to black. Principal Foggerty, her face beaming with pride, allows the students to start chanting, much to Vanessa’s dismay, “Bullies are bullshit.” BSGirl’s tagline. My phone confirms that social media is exploding.
I lean my head on Bruce’s shoulder. Score for Elena.
CHAPTER 13
My single with Brock races to the top of music charts in eleven countries. During spring break, Brock tells me he’s securing a new deal with a smaller label and that Lance is helping him again. Now that I can’t hide behind my mask, I don’t head home for break. Instead, I visit Mom with John. She has color in her cheeks now and she teaches me how to crochet, which ends with me throwing a small hissy fit. I find out that I’m terrible at crocheting.
The remaining days of spring break are spent holed up with Katrina because she has the space and because the Mavericks invite me. Now that Mom is getting better, John’s considering a small cabin in a small town and I spend time on the Internet searching for something within budget.
