Me, Just Different

by Stephanie Morrill

  As if on cue, tears spilled down my cheeks, but I forced myself to keep going. “Eli heard me. He was jealous of Aaron and had been watching us all night. He said he saw Aaron put something in my drink and that’s why he followed us upstairs.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s true. I don’t really remember.”

  “And this is why you’ve stuck by Eli,” Connor said. “Because he saved you.”

  “He got there before anything happened, but if he hadn’t come along when he did . . .” I became too emotional to talk. Here I’d thought Eli was some kind of savior, but he wasn’t. He was human. So was Connor. Wasn’t there anyone in life who wouldn’t let me down?

  “I don’t remember much else,” I continued once I mastered my vocal cords. “I passed out not too long after Eli burst in the room. I woke up in his car, where apparently I’d slept off the roofy, or whatever it was Aaron gave me.”

  “How scary.” Connor covered my hand with his. “I’m really sorry.”

  I didn’t want his sympathy. I stood. “That’ll last Abbie for a while. You should go home.”

  He stood along with me. “You have changed, you know. Whether you feel like it or not. You’re not like your friends anymore.”

  I challenged him with my eyes. “Does dressing different make me different?”

  His face took on an expression I’d never before seen. Embarrassment? “Don’t do that. I didn’t know you when I said that.”

  “Maybe you should have waited until you knew me to judge.”

  “You’re not the easiest person to get to know.” His embarrassment gave way to a smile. “It took me a long time to discover how special you are. How strong you are.”

  I laughed a nervous laugh. “Don’t say that.” My hand reached for my back pocket, to the lighter and pack of cigarettes I’d purchased on my way home. A little taste of my old life, of a simpler time.

  “Why don’t you and your dad come over tonight? I know my parents wouldn’t mind, and Abbie would get over it.”

  I looked away from him. “Please stop trying to help me.”

  He stood there a moment, evaluating me. “Is this about your birthday?”

  Heat rose to my face at the mention of it. “No.”

  “Because—”

  “Look, I don’t care about what you said. All I care about is being alone.”

  He sighed as he fit Abbie’s duffle bag over his shoulder. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.” He kissed my cheek so quickly there was no time to react. “Good night.”

  I waited until I heard the Tahoe’s ignition turn before I pulled out the cigarettes. Before, I’d been careful not to smoke even in my car, but now I lit up right there in Abbie’s bedroom. I gagged at the smell of the cigarette smoldering and flushed it down the toilet. Watching it spiral around the bowl, I realized I’d ventured too far in this new life for the old one to be appealing. What a shame, because I wasn’t sure I had the strength to get through the new one.

  19

  When I entered Shawnee Mission High the following morning, Lisa and Alexis’s squabbling greeted me in the entryway.

  Lisa stomped her foot like a spoiled three-year-old in Toys R Us. “Why did you even consider going out with him? He’s my ex-boyfriend!”

  Her screeching made my head pound. Why had they suddenly decided to have it out about this? I hoped they were too absorbed with each other to notice my passing.

  “Please.” Alexis folded her arms over her chest. “It’s not like you guys were ever serious.”

  “We dated for a year!”

  “Off and on. And off-and-on relationships are different than steady ones, so the rules are different about who can date him afterward.”

  A noise resembling a growl escaped Lisa’s throat. “The rules aren’t different.”

  Alexis lassoed me into the conversation. “Skylar, what do you think?”

  I paused. “I don’t really want to get involved. It’s not my place.”

  “No, I’d like to hear your opinion.” Lisa crossed her arms as well. “You’ve been through a situation like this. I think you might have a thing or two to say about loyalty and regrets regarding hooking up with your friend’s very serious ex-boyfriend.”

  “You think I’m not loyal?” Alexis’s face burned red with the accusation. “What about you? You didn’t even want him until he started liking me. If you could think about somebody other than yourself for two seconds—”

  “Me? What about you? What about how I found out you were together? You haven’t once considered how I feel about this—”

  “Well, you haven’t considered how I feel, so why should I—”

  “John told me that he loved me, if that’s not serious then—”

  “You never appreciated him, and now—”

  “And his mother adored me, so don’t even think—”

  “Loved that yellow shirt and you—”

  “Stop!” I elbowed my way between them. “What is wrong with you two? John isn’t worth it. Are either of you serious enough to date him in college?” Neither answered. “Then it isn’t worth making yourselves miserable your last year of high school.”

  Alexis made a disgruntled harrumph.

  Lisa planted her hands on her hips. “Then tell Alexis to stop seeing him.”

  “What! Tell Lisa to get over it and find someone new.”

  “Tell Alexis she shouldn’t date ex-boyfriends.”

  Alexis’s eyes narrowed. “Tell Lisa her shoes look like she bought them at Kmart.”

  Lisa gasped. “Tell Alexis she looks stupid with bangs!”

  Maybe it was how low this fight had sunk, or how sleep had eluded me most of the night, but I couldn’t handle this petty, selfish life for another second. “Enough!” They turned to me, wide-eyed. “You are two of the most self-absorbed people I’ve ever known.”

  “Skylar!” At some point Jodi had arrived. She looked at me with disbelief. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with all of you? You didn’t think it was weird that I was just suddenly with Eli? That I started going to church? That I stopped partying?” I couldn’t hold in the tears any longer. “We’ve been friends for the last three years, but none of you have noticed that I’ve been drowning ever since this summer.”

  Lisa’s face broadcast her confusion. “But you still acted like one of us.”

  I looked at her through my sticky eyelashes. She was right, of course. I had wanted to change but didn’t want to give up my life. And that’s why it had been so hard.

  “I can’t keep this up anymore,” I said, to both my friends and God. I marched right back out the entrance. “I need help.”

  I wound through the unfamiliar neighborhood full of mature trees and tiny Cape Cod cottages and couldn’t help thinking this might be a big mistake. With everybody in my life letting me down, should I seek out one more person? Should I trust someone to actually care about and help me with my problems?

  “Arriving at destination,” said the soothing voice of my navigation system, and I turned into the cracked driveway of a small white house.

  I should put my car in reverse, go home, and accept that people would disappoint me. My hand lingered on the gearshift, itching to pull it to “R.” But Heather was inside waiting on me. She might even be watching now. So I set the parking brake and braved the whipping October wind.

  Heather answered the door with a pleasant smile, but her eyes were puffy with exhaustion.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “Come on in.” Heather stepped to the side and gestured for me to enter her cramped living room. “I made coffee. Do you drink coffee?”

  “Yeah.” Although the candy kind Starbucks made was the only coffee I drank.

  I followed Heather through the living room into a galley kitchen. Everything was old and small—the oven looked like something suited for a girl’s playhouse—but the cluttered space felt homey.

  “Do you take anything in
yours?” Heather asked as she filled two mugs.

  “No.”

  She smiled. “My dad would like you. He’s from Texas and thinks it’s a sin to drink coffee any way but black.” She nodded at the square table pushed into the corner. “Have a seat. Just shove that stuff out of the way.”

  I moved a stack of cookbooks from the chair and took a seat. My position afforded a view of the backyard, surprisingly large. “Your house is cute.”

  “Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s all mine.” Heather set my coffee before me and settled into the other chair. “I couldn’t handle still living at home in my late twenties. I had an apartment for a while, but I often have to sleep during the day and it just got too loud.” She looked about her surroundings, face shining with pride. “I really like it here.”

  “So you’re just getting home from work?”

  Heather nodded.

  Her kindness made me itch inside—I was undeserving. “Why’d you let me come over? This could have waited.”

  She shrugged and brought the steaming mug to her mouth. “You sounded serious on the phone. Plus, it was an easy night. Just a few babies.”

  “So that’s what you do? Take care of newborns?”

  Heather cocked her head. “Is this why you came over? To talk about my nursing career?”

  I cupped my hands around the mug and stared into the black pool of coffee. “I don’t know why I came over. There was nowhere else to go, I guess.”

  “You can’t go home?”

  “My dad might be there and we’re fighting. He just found out I’m dating Eli Welling.” I shifted in my creaky seat. “I’m not supposed to have a boyfriend.”

  “Ah.” Heather leaned back in her chair. “How long have you and Eli been together?”

  “Since July. But, actually, we just broke up yesterday.” I swallowed and forced myself to say the shameful words. “He cheated on me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You know, if it had happened a week ago, I would’ve been offended but wouldn’t have really cared. But these last couple days, he’s really been there for me. And now . . .” I tapped my nails against the blemished table. “He’s just one more person who’s let me down.”

  Heather nodded. “A sad reality, isn’t it? People will always disappoint, whether they intend to or not.”

  “Really?” Tears stung my eyes. “I thought I’d come over here and you’d tell me that someday I’ll find someone who won’t.”

  She laughed. “I wish I could. Unfortunately, to err is human.”

  “So that’s it?” I gripped my coffee cup with frustration. “I’m never going to be able to count on anybody 100 percent of the time?”

  “No. Even that guy you’ll meet someday who’s going to love you more than anyone will occasionally disappoint you.”

  “So what do I do? Just accept that people suck?”

  “Skylar.” Heather leaned forward. “Why do you think we spend so much time at church talking about the infallibility of God?”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s because there will be times in life when everyone around you is acting like the humans they are, and you need someone. God can be that someone. He wants to be that someone.”

  “I don’t understand how. It’s not like he can take me out for ice cream or anything.”

  Heather chuckled. “But what happens after your best friend takes you out for ice cream? You feel better for a little bit, but eventually the pain comes back. God is the only one who can heal the pain you’re carrying around.”

  I raised the mug to my lips but couldn’t force myself to take a drink. It smelled horrid. “But what if I’m in pain because of something I did that I knew was wrong? Shouldn’t I have to learn a lesson?”

  “Haven’t you already? Isn’t that why you gave youth group another shot this year?”

  “But I only came that once.”

  “Why is that?” Heather asked. “What didn’t we do for you?”

  I plucked at the sleeve of my sweater. “It wasn’t your fault. It just didn’t . . . it didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

  “Is it because of what happened with Connor?”

  I blinked a couple times, trying to figure out what she meant. “You mean him overhearing about Abbie?”

  Heather nodded and swallowed hard. “You have no idea how horrible I felt about that. I mean, I’m the one who took you in the offices. I should’ve checked to make sure we were alone. Did Connor ever say anything? Because I made it clear to him that what he heard was private.”

  It warmed me to think of Heather guarding my secret. “He never told anyone,” I said. His telling Chris seemed way too complicated a story. And I didn’t want to make her feel bad about something that so wasn’t her fault.

  “So, if it wasn’t Connor, why didn’t you come back?” Heather asked.

  “I wanted to be a better person, and that stupid penguin softball game wasn’t going to get me there.”

  I thought it might offend her, but instead, Heather laughed. “Maybe not you, but boy, every time I’m forced to play softball with a balloon between my knees, I’m reminded not to take myself too seriously.” She paused for a drink. “Unfortunately, Skylar, there’s no magic button you can push to turn into a better person. It takes a lot of time and help.”

  “How much time?” Once again, emotion threatened to overtake me. “Because I can see who I want to be, but I’m so, so far away.”

  “Who do you want to be?”

  Like you, I wanted to say. I looked around the tiny house, crammed with old furniture and framed pictures. All those smiling faces frozen in time reminded me of the Rosses’ house and their hung photographs. I guess there really weren’t many moments in my life I wanted to capture and display for all to see. That was the difference between being cold and hard like me, and soft and sweet like Heather and Amy—they built a life worth remembering.

  “I want to be nice,” I said.

  “Nice? You don’t think you’re nice?”

  I smiled. “I know I’m not nice. I’d never take in some pregnant teenager. Or let somebody crash my place after I’d worked all night.”

  Heather thought about this a second. “So, you want to serve people?”

  “But I don’t really want to serve people. I wish I did, but I don’t.”

  “That’s completely normal,” Heather said. “You don’t think part of me would rather be curled up in bed than forcing myself awake with caffeine?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. This isn’t natural to me. I never would’ve done this a few years ago. I might have offered to meet you for coffee late in the afternoon after I’d slept, but never would I have done this.” Heather leaned forward and rested her weight on her elbows. “That’s the power that comes with allowing God to have control of your life. You’re capable of so much more.”

  “But how do I start?” I asked. “Praying?”

  “Praying is great. You can ask for a willing spirit and opportunities, but don’t just sit around and wait to feel like serving because that’s not going to happen. You have to just do it.”

  “I don’t know if I know how.”

  “Sure you do. Just start with something small. You said you’re fighting with your dad?” I nodded. “Do something nice for him.”

  “But I don’t know what he needs.”

  “I bet if we give it a few minutes of thought, we can come up with something.” She paused for a sip of coffee. “Tell me about your dad.”

  “He works a lot. He’s always really stressed.” Surely I could think of something nicer to say about him. Or at least something not so negative. “He drinks his coffee black too.”

  “There you go.”

  “What?”

  “Make him coffee.”

  “I don’t know how to make coffee.”

  “Then buy him coffee.”

  I resumed picking at my sweater. That sounded too simple. “But what’s that going to do?”


  Heather shrugged. “You’ll have to try it and see.”

  “But I’ve never bought coffee before. Not real coffee, anyway. What if I order the wrong kind? Or buy it, take it home, and he’s not there? Or what if—”

  “Skylar,” Heather said. “There will always be a million reasons not to reach out to someone. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and do it.”

  20

  Mom’s car sat in the driveway.

  The smart thing would be to keep driving. This was between Mom and Dad, and I should give them privacy. I shouldn’t stop . . .

  I pulled alongside the curb and parked.

  With a trembling hand, I carried Dad’s coffee up the front lawn. I heard them yelling at each other long before I reached the porch.

  “This is the problem I’m talking about,” Mom said as I eased the front door open. “You want to boss me. You’ve always wanted to boss me.”

  They argued in the kitchen, allowing me to sneak to the top of the open staircase. I could hear perfectly without fearing discovery.

  “I don’t want to boss you.”

  “You made me drop out of school, made me stay home with Skylar—”

  “I didn’t make you do either of those things. I suggested you take time off once Skylar was born, but then you wanted to have another baby. I thought you liked being a stay-at-home mom.”

  “I assumed two would be easier than one. That they could entertain each other.”

  Dad laughed. “They’re not puppies, Teri.”

  “You never encouraged me to go back to school. You liked having me at home.”

  Surprisingly, Mom was the one doing all the shouting. Dad kept his cool.

  “Of course I liked having you at home.”

  “But you don’t want me here now,” Mom said, her words laced with anger. “You’ve made that very clear.”

  My body trembled. These last couple days, Dad had acted like he wanted Mom home. Why would he have told her differently?