by Rose, Emery
“I don’t know what bullshit is going on in your life, but you can’t hide out in your room forever.”
It had only been three days. That was not forever. He had no idea what bullshit was going on in my life because he was never home. “Says who?”
“Me.”
“Who made you the boss?” It was childish and stupid. “Who cares if I go to school or not?”
“I care.” His voice was low and angry, like that was something new and different. These days, that was his default mode.
“It’s not like I’m going to college.”
“You could if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to.” I sounded like a petulant six-year-old. Why were we talking about college? I had no plans for my future beyond this shitty apartment.
“We only have six weeks until graduation. Six weeks and one day until our eighteenth birthday. You’re going to school and you’re going to graduate with me.”
“Dylan, I don’t care,” I said in frustration. “Can’t you get that through your fat head? I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”
“I care. I didn’t do all this, so you could fuck off.”
“Do what?” I screamed. “What did you do? You don’t tell me anything.” I whipped open the shower curtain and climbed out of the bathtub, sopping wet, my hair dripping, my boxers and T-shirt soaked through to the skin. “Tell me where you go at night. Tell me where you get all the money to pay the rent.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I screamed, shoving at his shoulders.
“Because I don’t want you involved,” he screamed right back at me. We stared at each other, our chests heaving, the water pooling on the tiles at our feet. The shower was still running, the bathroom mirror fogged up. “Six weeks and we’re done, Remy. We didn’t come this far for you to drop the ball now. We’re in this together and I’m not leaving you behind.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms and shook me, his stormy blue-gray eyes pinned on mine. “I’m not leaving you behind. We made a promise to each other and I will not leave you behind. Do you understand?”
“Dylan…” I choked on a sob. It was too much. This was what love looked like. Two kids playing house. Two kids fighting against and for each other. Love was a verb. It wasn’t just a pretty word that got tossed around all too casually. People were so quick to say the words, “I love you.” But what did that mean? For some people, it meant nothing. Mom used to tell us she loved us all the time but she up and left without a backward glance. Dylan… he was still here. Through it all, he was still here when it mattered most. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. His fingers dug into my arms, his grip too tight as if he was afraid to let go.
“I’m not losing you, too,” he said. “I can’t lose you, Remy.”
His voice cracked on the words.
Oh God. Dylan. You would think that a broken heart couldn’t break any more, but it could because mine was breaking all over again.
“Let go of me, Dylan. Please. You’re hurting me,” I whispered brokenly.
He released my arms and took a step back, his gaze still pinned on my face. Vigilant. Concerned. Scared that I’d vanish if he took his eyes off me. I could barely see his face through the blur of my tears, but I didn’t need to see it. We looked so much alike, he and I. Our beauty was so sharp and jagged, you could cut your finger on our edges.
Slowly, I sank to my knees and wrapped my arms around myself, bending at the waist. It hurt so much. My sobs echoed off the tiled walls. I wanted to curl into a ball on the bathroom floor and stay there. My heart hurt. For my brother who was trying to hold all our broken pieces together. For our mother who abandoned us without a backward glance. For Shane… oh God. Shane. My ocean.
I loved him. Tragically and hopelessly.
“Do you know what a Siren is in Greek mythology?”
“Tell me.”
“A Siren is an enchantress who lures the sailor with her voice…”
“And what happens to the sailor?”
“He shipwrecks on the rocky coast.”
“I’ll never sing for you, Sailor. I don’t want to destroy you. I just want to love you.”
“I was destroyed the first time I ever saw your face, Firefly.”
I broke his heart, just like he said I would. But I broke my own too. I’d been merciless, my breakup with him swift and brutal. I told him I’d cheated on him, that I was too young to settle down with just one person. “It could never have worked,” I’d said. “I’d just be trailing after you, like one of your pro hos.”
And the look on his face… disbelief and then anger when he ordered me to leave. But I’d seen the hurt too, heard the pain in his voice when he asked me why… how… I could ever do that? To him? To us?
Dylan knelt in front of me and wrapped a towel around my shoulders. “Remy. Come on. I’ll drop you off at school.” His voice was soft. Pleading. “You’ve never been a quitter. Don’t start now. You can do this. I know you can.” He believed in me. He was trying to give me strength.
Love was powerful. It could destroy you. It could heal you. It could soften the blows.
I peeled myself off the floor. I did it for Dylan. I did it because we made a pinky promise so many years ago, to never leave each other behind, no matter what. Now, he was making good on his promise.
I wiped away my tears and drew a shaky breath.
“You know you have to fix my door now.”
He rolled his eyes, but his lips curved into an almost-smile. “I’ll fix your door.” He gave me the Boy Scout salute. It made me laugh. Dylan had never been a Boy Scout. Not even close. “Promise.”
And I knew that he would fix my door. Because he promised he would. And Dylan, as it turned out, never broke his promises.
Life goes on even when we don’t feel like we want to. Even when we feel like there’s nothing left to hang onto, life goes on.
When Dylan pulled up outside Starbucks on Main Street, the tears threatened to fall again.
“Dylan, we can’t afford… I don’t need—”
“What do you want, Rem? I’ll get you anything you want.”
I didn’t want Starbucks, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that. This gesture, it meant so much. He remembered how I used to feel bad for not being able to afford Starbucks. Not because I actually wanted Starbucks but because Sienna kept bringing me drinks. It was one of those poor kid insecurities, I guess. “Surprise me.”
He hopped out of the truck and strode into Starbucks, a man on a mission.
I loved his guts.
* * *
I promised Dylan I would finish high school and even if it killed me, I would keep my promise. We’d been through worse. I could get through this.
I went to school and I went to work, and I read books instead of going surfing. I didn’t take any photos. There was nothing I wanted to remember. Sometimes I went to the beach, and I swam but only at the pier, never the break where Shane surfed. Sometimes I just sat there, staring at the ocean that didn’t feel like home anymore.
I missed every sunrise.
Life went on. Without Shane. And I told myself he was better off without me. Because it was true.
I used to love my job at Jimmy’s Surf Shack but now I dreaded that too. It was just another reminder of the life I had before. I had to physically restrain myself from slashing a knife through every HartCore wetsuit and piece of surfing apparel in the shop.
“Do you want to talk about it, kiddo?” Jimmy asked one Saturday when I was restocking the shelves with sunscreen. The scent reminded me of Shane but then, what didn’t remind me of him?
I shook my head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
I didn’t know how much Shane had confided in Jimmy. They were close, but I didn’t think Shane would have told his dad about his sex life. Or about his relationship with me. Although Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He’d drawn his own conclusions. Shane had taken me over to Jimmy’s house for dinners and barbecues a fe
w times and the three of us had hung out laughing and talking on the back patio until it got dark. Shane had kissed me once when his dad was in the kitchen and had kept his hand on my thigh all through dinner. Like it belonged there. Which it had.
“Funny,” Jimmy said. “That’s what Shane said when I asked.”
He gave my shoulder a little squeeze. “If it’s meant to be, you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“Do you really believe that’s possible? Even if… you hurt someone so badly they’ll never forgive you?”
“I didn’t say how long it would take. I just said you’ll find your way back.”
My hand wrapped around the medallion hanging from the gold chain around my neck.
For Firefly, so you never lose your way home.
One time I ran into Shane at the grocery store. He was buying leafy greens, mangoes, and avocadoes. He ate avocadoes with a spoon. I’d never even tried an avocado before I met him. Dylan and I had a cart full of frozen pizzas and microwave meals. That said it all, really, just how different our lives were. Shane and I met in the peanut butter aisle. He was buying nut butter—the all-natural kind. Almond, I think. We were buying Skippy, with the added sugar and oil. I looked up and there he was, watching me. Our eyes met and for a few moments, we just stood there, staring at each other. He looked so good. With his golden tan, his honey-brown hair bleached lighter by the sun and saltwater. In surf shorts and a faded orange T-shirt that said Life is Good. Was it? Was his life good?
How unfair that he appeared to be thriving while I withered away. But this was what I had wanted for him. My sacrifice, my foolish choices and stupidity, couldn’t all be in vain.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Even after everything I’d done to him, those were his words. Are you okay?
“I’m good. How are you?”
He shook his head and didn’t answer.
I wanted to tell him the truth, all about Tristan, and what I’d done and why I’d done it and beg for his understanding. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and breathe in his ocean scent. But I couldn’t do that to him. Shane deserved so much better.
So, I walked away without saying another word. Just as if my heart wasn’t breaking and my world wasn’t cold and lonely without him.
I rode my bike everywhere. To and from work. Late at night when sleep wouldn’t come. Down quiet streets in sleepy neighborhoods, the air desert dry and warm, scented with forgotten dreams and broken promises.
Late one night, about a week after I ran into him in the grocery store, I was locking up my bike when his motorcycle pulled up in front of his house. I watched a leggy blonde climb off the back. He saw me watching. I knew he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Unable to look away, I watched him kissing her right there on the street like he couldn’t wait until they got inside. His hands on her body. His lips on hers. His tongue in her mouth. And she was taking it all for granted.
I wanted to scream at her. He’s mine. You can’t have him.
To torture myself, I sifted through all my photos of him. I cried big, fat, silent tears. More tears. Would they never end?
At the lowest point in my life, I got scouted by a modeling agency. Tragic chic must be all the rage.
Funny how I never wanted to be defined by my looks. Funny how my mom’s words had once again come true.
“A beautiful girl like you, you can have anything you want. You’ll see. You’ll see how far beauty can take you in this world.”
20
Remy
Dylan and I skipped our high school graduation. Neither of us wanted to wear the cap and gown or go on the stage in front of all those people to accept our diplomas. Nobody would be in the audience to cheer us on anyway. Instead, we’d spent the day clearing out the apartment and packing up our belongings.
I tossed the pizza crust in the box and looked around the apartment that we’d lived in for two years. Now it was bare, and we were sitting on the floor, our duffel bags and liquor boxes packed and ready to go. It was our eighteenth birthday. Funny how I’d been counting down the months and days until it arrived, and now it hardly seemed to matter.
“Let’s go up to the roof,” Dylan said, holding a joint between his thumb and index finger.
“For old time sake.” I smiled, remembering the night we’d gone up there for the first time, the night we’d moved in and our seventeenth birthday with Sienna. What the hell. I followed him to the door.
“You should end as you begin,” he said as we climbed the stairs to the roof.
“You’re getting philosophical in your old age.”
Out of habit, I looked across the street. Shane was home. So close and yet so far away. Was he alone or did he have a girl with him? What did it matter?
“So, you’re really going through with it?” Dylan asked, flicking his lighter. He inhaled, holding the smoke in his lungs and passed me the blunt.
I took a hit, hoping the high would blur all the edges and make me forget. Even though I knew it wouldn’t.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Looks that way. I think it will be good.” Modeling was a way out. It was money. I could support myself. It wasn’t my dream but since when did that matter?
“I never thought that would be something you’d want.”
It wasn’t. At first, I thought it was a scam but then I’d Googled the agency, and they seemed legit. One of the big ones. I emailed them. Then I went to LA for an interview and test shots. “You have the look we want.” Five-foot-nine, rail-thin with boobs that weren’t too big or too small. A face they claimed was symmetrical. I was photogenic. I was versatile. I was, in other words, a chameleon. Just like Rae St. Clair.
“We’ve both done plenty of things we never would have dreamed of doing,” I said, defending my decision.
“Yeah. I guess we have.” He pushed his tattooed fingers through his dark hair.
“So… college, huh?”
He shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Looks that way.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Made it through high school without ending up dead or in prison. That’s quite a feat for a St. Clair.”
We were quiet for a few minutes, contemplating his words. In some ways, we had a lot to be proud of. We’d survived. Had practically raised ourselves. We hadn’t given up. We weren’t quitters. He had picked me up off the floor and kicked my ass when I’d needed it. I’d like to think that I’d done the same for him over the years. Our mom was never coming back, we’d reconciled with that, but no matter where I went or where he was, I knew we still had each other. It was something. More than something.
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Dylan said. His eyes narrowed as he took a hit off the joint.
The less he knew, the better. “It’s complicated.”
“Most things in our life are.”
“Yeah, about that… how about you tell me what’s going on with you.”
“What do you want to know?”
He looked relaxed, like he was open to answering anything I wanted to know. Which seemed unlikely. So many questions were off-limits. I wasn’t even allowed to mention Sienna’s name around him.
The metal door flew open and my heart skipped a beat. Until I saw who was on the other side of it.
“What the fuck is going on?” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“The bitch is back,” Dylan muttered.
“Dylan—”
He held up his hand and walked away. We both watched him leaving, the metal door closing behind him before Sienna slid down against the wall next to me. “I’m sorry,” I said, apologizing for Dylan.
She huffed out a laugh. “He’ll never speak to me again.”
I wished I could tell her differently. Dylan held grudges. He’d been hurt but so had she.
“I thought we were friends.” She sounded sad and I felt guilty for having ignored all her messages over the past couple months. “You just ghosted on me.�
��
What a shitty friend I’d been.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine. No major drama. I’m home for the summer and I’ve promised to be a good girl.” She held up her crossed fingers and rolled her eyes. “I got into USC.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She shoulder-bumped me. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too.” And as I said it I realized just how much I really had missed her.
“You suck at keeping in touch.”
“I know. My mom left. She just disappeared one day. Left a note. That was it. We never saw her again.”
“Babes. That sucks. God, I had no idea. Parents suck sometimes.”
I laughed. We were quiet for a few minutes.
“And Shane?”
“Shane…” Shane. I took a deep breath and exhaled. I was going to tell her the whole story. It wouldn’t fix my broken heart or change anything but sometimes confiding in a person made things a little bit better.
“Hey.” She squeezed my hand. “You can tell me anything. No judgment, remember?”
I wanted to tell her. I wanted to confide in her. Maybe it was selfish. But I needed someone I could tell. And the only person I trusted with this information was Sienna. “You have to promise me that this will never go further. You can’t tell anyone. Especially not Dylan.”
“Why not?”
“Because… I don’t know what he would do. I want him to go to college, not end up in prison. Shane can never find out. He can never know what I did.” I held her gaze until she nodded, acknowledging that my secrets were safe with her.
“Whatever you tell me goes into the vault. Promise.” She crossed her heart and that was good enough for me. Sienna would never spill my secrets.
I took a deep breath and I started talking, feeling some of the weight lifting from my shoulders. Telling Sienna couldn’t change anything but keeping it to myself had been hell.
21
