Anywhere but here.
How does something like this even happen? How do you completely lie to your children and your family? Pretend like there isn’t something major going on.
My emotions build up inside me like a volcano and I have no qualms about letting them explode. Turning away from the mess that I created on the opposite side of the room, I study my family members. Mom is sitting curled up into herself in the ugly floral recliner. Tears pour down her face and her frail hand is at her mouth attempting to stifle her sobs. Dad is standing to her left and he’s as white and stiff as a marble statue you would find in Rome. And Marek? I can’t tell what he’s feeling. Then again, he probably doesn’t know what he’s feeling either. My pain. My anger. My feelings have been building up over year. He’s been away at school and hasn’t had a single idea that anything has been going on at home.
Then there’s Anders. My eyes lock with his and a tiny thrill shoots through my body. He’s not actually in the room, but rather in the kitchen. I’m honestly not sure how long he’s been standing there, but he it’s obvious from the look of pity all over his face that he’s been standing there long enough.
My nostrils flare and I can no longer stand here pretending any longer. “You can sit here all day spewing your lies and excuses to me, but it still doesn’t change one thing.” I turn my attention specifically to my parents and really hit home with how I’m feeling. “It doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t believe I was important enough or that Marek was important enough to be involved or even know what was going on.”
Mom’s eyes finally lift to my own and I say, “What was your plan if he didn’t get better?”
She continues sobbing and even though words come out of her mouth they’re unintelligible over the sniffles and cries.
Turning toward my dad I ask, “What was your plan if you suddenly died? Did you think about how we would feel? What kind of mess you would have left behind? Because it would have come out. Were you waiting for the hospital visit or did you want to be completely gone from the picture? Let Mom try and explain it to us at your funeral?”
That really gets her going as the moans reach ear-shattering levels and her body shakes from her hysterics.
I’m done.
I hear my name. I hear yelling. What I don’t hear are footsteps behind me and that’s fine. I leave the room. I leave the house. I remove myself from the situation before things get worse besides me destroying a piece of the tacky décor.
My breathing comes out labored the harder and faster my feet pound the pavement. I’ve never been a runner. In fact, I’ve always believed that people who love running are masochists. Especially those who run on treadmills. What’s the point of wearing yourself out, drenching sweat through your pores to be staying in the same place the entire time? Yeah, I don’t get it. But right now? I have a reason to run and I am not holding anything back.
Chapter Eight
Anders
Scroll.
Nope.
Scroll.
Nope.
The short list of names on my contact list only drives the point home how alone I really am. Marek is probably the one person who knows me the best, but even then, he doesn’t know everything, and Giselle is starting to replace him in that spot. How did that happen? We’ve been skirting dangerous territory all summer long.
One weekend.
Marek promised me we would come to visit his parents at the beach for a single weekend and then we’d take off back to school. I don’t know if he had a plan for where we were going to stay, but I let myself relax for a change. Although that didn’t get me into the greatest positions now that I’m needing a place to go. After the huge blowout in the living room, I figured it would be best to head outside and plan my next move.
The back door opens and it could be one of two people. I’m almost surprised when I hear my best friend say, “What are you doing out here?”
I flip my phone closed and slide it back into my pocket. It’s not like someone will magically appear in my contacts list who will be able to bail me out. I’ll have to come up with a different idea. “I think I’m going to take off.”
“Yeah? And where are you going to go?”
What? Where did that even come from? He doesn’t know anything about me, at least not the personal details so that line of questioning came completely out of left field.
“I’ve got places to go, what are you talking about?”
Marek shakes his head and takes a seat on the slab of cement next to me. “Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know you don’t have a home to go back to. Not to mention you have no way of getting there.”
He’s got me there, but I didn’t realize anyone else knew what was going on in my life. Up until this point, I’ve been pretty good about keeping that information to myself.
“How—”
“Did I know your parents died?” He finishes my sentence for me as I choke on the rest of the words.
My throat locks up and I swallow trying to form words. When I can’t, and I don’t even know what I could say I just nod.
“You talk in your sleep. It’s not often because you never drink, but the few times you have…”
The nightmare.
I hate drinking. It has nothing to do with the normal reasons most people give. The taste, the feeling, alcoholism runs in their family, and so on. No, for me, every time I drink it brings that night back. The night my parents died, and I lost everything. I obviously wasn’t in the car with them when it happened, but I remember the look on the police officers face when he came to our house. Told my babysitter that my parents were dead, and they took me away in the middle of the night never to see my house again.
My little fingers clutched my favorite stuffed puppy to my chest without a clue in the world that everything had changed. That everything I ever knew was gone forever. Even as the words were spoken to me, I thought I was still dreaming. I had a bruise on my arm the next day the size of a quarter from where I repeatedly pinched myself. Only I was awake and the only thing I had to show for it was the mark I left on myself.
“It’s not something I ever talk about with people.”
“Trust me, I get it more so after everything that just happened. But you don’t have to keep things from me, Anders. I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything.”
And that’s where he’s wrong. Marek might think he wants to hear everything from me, but the truth is if he knew how I really felt about his sister then our friendship would be over. Which is why those feelings won’t ever leave me. Marek won’t know and Giselle definitely won’t ever know. Instead, I’d rather bury those thoughts and feelings deep inside and never let them out.
“I shouldn’t be here anyway. There’s obviously some intense shit going on in there.”
“So, we’ll both leave. Just because my family is crazy doesn’t mean I’m going to kick you to the curb.”
“Why not?”
“Seriously? Because we’re friends and I would never do something like that to a friend.”
If only he knew the thoughts I’ve had about his sister, he wouldn’t still consider me a friend. Instead of having a normal conversation he’d probably be pounding my face in. But that isn’t going to happen because I’ll never act on those feelings. No, they’ll stay locked up inside of me. “If you want me to stay, I can. I just don’t want to get in the way of any of the shit going down with your family and I don’t want you to cut your trip short because of me.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to be here. I’m pretty sure my family would freak if I took off too after that revelation though. So, we’re staying.”
Too? Did Giselle leave? Why the hell is he sitting out here talking to me if his sister took off? I’m seeing red and my hands form fists. I tone down my rage long enough to ask, “What do you mean too?”
“My sister took off. I figure I’ll give her an hour to cool down and then I’ll go off looking for her.”
“Do you
think that’s safe? She seemed pretty pissed.”
“I think I know my sister better than you do. When she gets angry, she needs to cool off. She’ll come back and it’ll be fine.”
I hope he’s right about that. I can’t speak up and show how concerned I really am. That I just want to wrap my arms around her and let her know that everything is going to be okay. That she can get through this and I’ll help her do it. My hands shake at my sides, but I force myself to calm down as I say, “I think I’m just going to wander around. Maybe I’ll run across her and convince her to come back.”
Marek studies me and tilts his head to the side, “Why do you care so much?”
Lifting my shoulders in a shrug I say, “I don’t care. Just thought I would go for a walk. Maybe I’ll go check out the pier.”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off because his eyes light up and he nods his head furiously. “Such a good idea. Stacy told me she was going to be hanging out at the pier today. I bet she’s there with her friends.”
Not exactly the idea I had in mind, but there’s no getting out of it now. I follow him out to his car and pray that we can find her and she’s okay.
Chapter Nine
Giselle
My nostrils burn with the multitude of scents surrounding me. With a deep breath, I take in as much as I can, programming it all to memory. Who knows when I’ll be back again? A couple of kids, who can’t be more than six or seven, shriek with laughter as they run from one booth to the next. A sweet elderly couple walks hand in hand together and briefly pause to sneak a sweet kiss when they think no one else is watching. And a group of men with their fishing rods hanging over the edge of the railing. There’s nothing like all of the excitement happening all around me.
The house felt like it was closing in on me and I had to get out. After all of the revelations, it was all too much. I walked the almost five miles from the beach house and my palms are saturated as I slide them down the fronts of my shorts as I continue my exploration down the boardwalk. I didn’t even know that it was here, but I’m happy I found it.
But it’s been quite the experience, one I won’t forget for a long time. I felt like I was six years old again when I discovered the carousel. It’s dingy white antiqued over by the years of love and abuse. Some of the unicorns had their horns broken off as if they had been in a fierce battle and are standing tall with only some flaws and rough edges to show as proof. Battle scars. And I love every single one. Imperfections are the brightest stars shining through the galaxy that is your life. They make you the unique individual you are, separate from all the masses.
I rode it at least four times before I got dizzy and had to take a break. I really didn’t want to see what my breakfast would look like coming back up and I’m pretty sure no else did either. That’s when I discovered the popcorn stand. Twenty different kinds of popcorn? Talk about heaven. I almost overdid it like I did with the spinning ride of unicorns, but I decided to take it easy and buy a single bag, I’ve got all summer after all. Today’s drop of heaven in my mouth comes in the flavor of cotton candy. I admit I was mildly intrigued and hesitant to try it, but I wanted to be adventurous and give it a go. The minute the first morsel touched my tongue I closed my eyes to really appreciate the flavors bursting on my tongue. The sweetness of the cotton candy mixed with the saltiness of the popcorn was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before. I half expected it to taste a lot like kettle corn, but it was different that’s for sure.
Walking down the boardwalk, I pop another delectable piece into my mouth and plop down on a bench at the very end. It’s quiet down here away from the madness of the food stands and the screaming children around the carnival type games. I relish in my little area of relaxation in the middle of the craziness. This is definitely a tourist hotspot if I ever saw one, but I don’t even care. I’m having the time of my life. The waves crash against the wooden pillars down below and seagulls fly overhead. I continue grazing on my scrumptious snack and just let myself enjoy the moment. It’s not often that I get a lot of downtimes. Back at home, I’m involved in so many activities, some of my choosing and others by my parents. They mean well, but sometimes I don’t want all of my focus to be on what I can do to pump up my resume for college applications. When does the fun and relaxation come in? Certainly not when I actually go off to school.
The wooden bench creaks as I lean back and close my eyes. I love the feel of the hot summer sun warming my skin and I wish I could stay in this moment forever. I rock slightly as someone sits on the other end and I almost pop my eyes open, but I refuse to let someone pushing their way into my perfect bubble ruin my time. It isn’t until the little paper bag is ripped from my fingers that I look at whoever rudely stole my snack. As one piece of popcorn is popped into his mouth, I come face to face with none other than the blue-eyed, sandy-haired jerk known as Anders.
His fedora-covered head rears back and he looks at the bag in his hands in confusion before shrugging his shoulders and shoveling more of the delicious corn into his mouth. I feel a small sense of victory at the fact that he pretty much hasn’t taken his hat off since we bought it at the mall. Which is cause enough for me to avoid him as it ramps his sex appeal. Ugh, why can’t he just be stupid and annoying like the rest of the boys who go to my school and offer me zero interest? I finally find a guy who I like and can have a normal conversation with. Why does he have to be my brother’s best friend and completely off limits?
With a mouthful of the precious morsels, he says, “I think there’s something wrong with your popcorn. It tastes sweet. Like really sweet. What the heck is that?”
I rip the noticeably lighter bag from his hands and toss more into my own mouth. “You’re right, there is something wrong with it.” I pause as I pretend to contemplate the taste in my mouth. I mull it around for a few seconds longer and then swallow the bite turning to Anders, “It’s mine.”
He reaches his hand out to grab the bag back from me, and this time I’m ready for him. When I pull it away, his bottom lip pops out into the perfect kissable pout. Son of a bitch. Why does this guy have to have me all twisted up like this? It’s not even a little bit fair how much he’s affecting me. Without even thinking about it, I flick my tongue out and slowly drag it along my bottom lip and he releases a small groan in response.
Hmm, interesting.
“You’re always stealing my popcorn,” I say without thinking about what I’m doing, as I hand the bag over to him and he greedily starts eating the rest. No worries, I was starting to feel a little sick to my stomach anyway. Cotton candy flavored popcorn probably isn’t the smartest lunch choice. As he finishes off the last bites from the bottom of the bag I simply say, “It’s cotton candy.”
“Excuse me?” he asks as a piece of food flies from his mouth onto the pier in front of him. I should be grossed out by it. His bulging cheeks so overstuffed that when he attempts to talk the popcorn can only slip through his lips. I should tell him to get up and leave me alone, but I don’t. Instead, I find it boyishly adorable. He might be older than me, but that doesn’t mean he’s so mature that it’s annoying. They do say that girls mature faster than boys, so maybe we’re right on target age wise.
“The popcorn, it’s cotton candy flavored. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get the pickle one?” I sigh and turn away from him looking back toward the water in front of us. It teases me with its inviting ripples and waves. The combination of the sun beating down on me and just sitting in Anders’ presence has me overheated to an astronomical level. I’m on fire and I need to douse the flames. I could easily walk the extra steps to the foot of the boardwalk and jump over the railing into the abyss down below, but I would regret it the minute my toes made contact with the frigid temperatures. The pain of the coldness would be enough to put my body into shock and that’s just not something I’m willing to test out. Hell even standing on the beach I’m too chicken to stick a single pinky toe into the water. No thank you, I’m good.
Out of the corner of my
eye, I can see Anders study me as I watch each wave roll in. I’m not even sure why he’s here with me right now. Hours ago when I left the house, my brother and he were plotting out their event-filled day and yet, here he is sitting next to me without my brother in sight. I think about one of my favorite movies of all time and say to him, “I’m pretty sure stalking is illegal in most, if not all, of the fifty United States.”
He grins and I want to really throw myself into the deep end and not give a care in the world for the repercussions when his dimples pop out. I bring my hand up and fan my face while looking up at the sun pretending like it’s the reason for my reddened cheeks. “What makes you think I’m stalking you, Peach?”
Wait, was that an attempt at a pet name? I don’t know whether to die laughing or be truly smitten that he tried to give me one. Because I can’t hold it in, I go for the former and the loudest most obnoxious laugh slips from my lips. In the most disgusting way possible, I throw my head back and my whole body trembles in a fit of hysteria. I would imagine the people around us are thinking I’m having an attack and in a way I am, because I can’t control myself in the slightest. When the hysterics finally stop and I allow myself to calm down, I turn toward him and ask, “Peach? Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to mean?”
“Don’t be gross. You always have this intoxicating scent of flowers and peaches surrounding you, therefore, I’ve nicknamed you Peach. Nothing more to it than that.”
I make a mental note to myself to never stop wearing my favorite body spray, Victoria’s Secret’s Love Spell. Even if he wants me to think there’s nothing more to it than that, I’m sure. I’ll let it slide for now, but I feel like there’s more to it than that. Why even give me a nickname in the first place? Heck if he didn’t care he could just call me “Hey you,” or “Marek’s little sister,” or not even be here right now. As I look up from the glistening water down below into his eyes, I’m not even a little bit shocked to find him watching me. Yeah, there’s definitely a lot more to it than he’s letting on, but I’ll let him off just this once and save it for another day.
Kiss Me Page 5
