Anywhere But Here

by Paul, JL

  When the game ended a few minutes later, my heart was still thumping loudly and the roar of the crowd still thundered in my ears. A happy smile remained on my face as I clomped down the bleachers, joining the others being herded towards the exits.

  I gently shoved my way out of the queue to lean against a pillar so I could easily spot Fin. The nervousness returned as I nibbled on my lip, studying the parents who lingered nearby, wondering which set belonged to Fin. I recalled him telling me that they were a bit older – that his dad was retired – but I was either too nervous or not very imaginative for I couldn’t for the life of me figure out who belonged to him.

  Finally, Fin found me and draped an arm over my shoulder. A heavy bag rested on his other shoulder and a wide grin rested on his lips. “Did you enjoy the game?”

  “Actually I did,” I admitted. My body automatically migrated closer to his. I desperately wanted to snuggle into his side and allow him to guide me out of here. “You did well.”

  He lifted a brow as a smirk worked its way across his face. “Did I now?” I nodded, my head foggy. Chuckling, he squeezed my upper arm. “Let’s go find my folks.”

  The warm, fuzzy feeling disappeared in a flash as he dropped my shoulder and took my hand, leading me through the reuniting families. Many people greeted him with a pat on the back or a playful punch in the arm. I stayed as close as I could, hoping no one would notice me and we could exit without any sort of fanfare on my part.

  “There they are,” he announced. My stomach took another tumble as he maneuvered through the throng and stopped in front of a tall, thin, graying man and his plump, smiling wife.

  Mr. Finley smiled warmly, his eyes so like Fin’s it was uncanny. His wrinkled, friendly face put me immediately at ease. I relaxed a bit and turned my attention on his wife.

  Mrs. Finley’s short cropped hair was lined with gray and her face revealed her age, but her eyes, like her husband’s, were welcoming and pleasant.

  “Great game, son,” Mr. Finley said as he drew Fin into a one-armed hug.

  “Yes it was,” his mother agreed, rolling to her toes to kiss his cheek, causing him to blush. An uncontrollable smile graced my face as my heart swelled. The swelling lasted only so long as an ache took its place – an ache to have the same sort of affection bestowed upon me by my own parents. I had to look away to prevent the tears from forming in my eyes. I pulled air through my nostrils quietly, not wanting to attract attention to my sudden bout of despair, then turned my attention back to the family.

  “This is Rena Hamilton,” Fin introduced, disengaging my hand to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “My parents, Sean and Katherine Finley.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” I said with mild enthusiasm. I was managing to keep my emotions at bay and able to put some warmth in my voice.

  “You, too, dear,” Katherine Finley smiled, patting my cheek. “Ian has told us all about you. Did you enjoy the game?”

  “Yes, very much,” I said, my heart beating a rapid rhythm inside my chest. I was almost frightened that it would break a rib. “Though, I don’t know a whole lot about hockey.”

  “You’ll learn,” Fin said with a cocky smirk and a wink. It was my turn to blush.

  “Would you kids like to meet us down the street for a bite to eat?” Sean Finley asked.

  Fin lifted a questioning brow at me and I nodded. “Sure,” he said. We agreed on a restaurant and left in two separate cars, Fin riding with me.

  My nervousness had abated by the time Fin and I settled into a booth across from his parents. Conversation was light and friendly as we waited for our food. I found the Finleys fascinating and easy to talk to – just like their son. They soon had me laughing and perfectly at ease.

  Once the waitress set our entrees in front of us, the conversation slowed as we started to eat. My heart was light and I was actually grateful that I’d agreed to this little dinner date – it made me feel even closer to Fin.

  “So, Rena,” Katherine said as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Tell me about your family. I understand that you live with your aunt?”

  I swallowed, bobbing my head slowly, and took a sip from my water glass. “Yes, my aunt Franki. She’s an artist.”

  “I know,” Katherine smiled. “I’ve seen her work.” I didn’t know what to say so I shut my lips and waited. “And your parents live in Chicago?”

  “Not exactly,” I explained. “They’re just outside of Chicago, in the suburbs.”

  “What do your parents do?” Sean asked only mildly interested. He shoved his plate aside and settled back in his seat.

  “My father is some kind of analyst with a large company,” I said, carefully measuring each reaction. “My mother used to be a dental hygienist but she mostly stays home now.”

  “Really?” Katherine asked as her plucked brow dipped over her eyes. “Do you have younger siblings that she cares for?”

  A pang struck my heart as I shook my head. “No. Um, my brother is off at college and I’m here with my aunt.”

  I worried that I’d offended her with my quick responses but after a rather short, awkward pause, she changed the subject. My voice reflected my gratefulness at the shifted conversation and I was able to participate without strain.

  After we ate, I thanked Mr. Finley for my meal before following Fin to my car. Mrs. Finley hugged her son again and offered me a small smile. “I hope we see you again, dear.” Her eyes still held their warmth but something else fluttered inside – doubt, maybe.

  “Certainly,” I responded, a tight smile of my own. I handed my keys to Fin, using my ignorance of the town as an excuse not to drive and climbed in the passenger seat. In all actuality, I didn’t think I’d be able to concentrate on the road as the entire dinner with Fin’s parents replayed in my mind.

  “That went well,” Fin grinned as he turned onto a two lane highway. “Don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” I said though my insides were in turmoil. Sure, the evening had been pleasant but I had a feeling Mrs. Finley could see through my feeble family descriptions. I could only imagine what she thought – maybe that I was hiding something. And what would she think if I told her the reason why I no longer attended school back home? As loving as she seemed and as sympathetic as I imagined she’d be if she knew about Camille, I couldn’t see her as being too impressed with my past behavior. I vowed that she’d never find out about either.

  Chapter Eighteen

  School that week was actually pleasant – for me, anyway. Apparently, the basketball team had held an impromptu party at someone’s house – complete with hard liquor and marijuana – and allowed it to get out of hand. A furious neighbor had called the police and the party had been busted, embarrassing plenty of parents and quite a few of the partygoers. I felt a tad bit of sympathy for them because I’d been in their shoes before, but I was more relieved that the gossip wasn’t focused on me for once.

  I glided through the halls, my hand firmly encased in Fin’s, and smiled more than I had in a long time. Fin would just laugh at me, remarking that it didn’t take much lately for me to be happy and I realized that he was right. As long as I didn’t think about things on the family front, I was a well-adjusted, content teenager.

  I was giddy, too, because I wasn’t obligated to visit Roberta that week. I actually pondered the necessity of meeting with her anymore – obviously I was doing just fine. I participated in class, goofed off with my friends at lunch, and hung out with Fin at the convenience store when he finished practice. He’d taken to sitting around, waiting for me to close up shop so he could walk me to my car and kiss me goodnight.

  And I loved it. I loved that I felt normal again. Even the anger-demon disappeared, though it had been known to do that before. Still, I was confident I’d finally banished it and was well on my way to a full recovery.

  “You’re awfully chipper lately,” Aunt Franki observed when I plopped down at the table Wednesday night after work. She slid a bowl of chili to me and I dug in
gratefully, starved.

  “Things are going well,” I said with a shrug.

  “Mm hm,” she said as she watched me eat. “But do you think you’re ready to stop seeing your counselor?”

  I crammed another spoonful of her delicious chili in my mouth and nodded, washing the spicy concoction down with a chug of milk. “I think but then again, I’m not the professional.”

  She barked out a short laugh and sighed. “Maybe you should talk to Roberta about it.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, digging a cracker out of the pack. “She’ll say I’m not ready so she can continue to collect some cash.”

  “I don’t think so,” Aunt Franki disagreed with a frown. “She’s not that way. That’s why I chose her.”

  After I finished my chili, I scooted the bowl away, lifting my eyes to my aunt. “And how well do you know her?”

  She tried to hide her flushed cheeks by picking up my bowl and carrying it to the sink. “She was referred to me by a friend that knows her pretty well.”

  “Oh?” I asked, my interest perked. “What friend?”

  She kept her back to me as she rinsed my bowl, lifting her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. “Oh, just a friend from town.”

  “That Sean guy, huh?” I said with a grin. I wasn’t sure if I was amused or annoyed – maybe even a combination of both. Was she discussing my life with her almost boyfriend?

  Sighing again, she turned to me, her eyes defeated. “Yes, it was Sean. Roberta is his sister-in-law and she’s very good.”

  Anger shot through me and threatened to spew out of my mouth. I rose slowly, breathing deeply in hopes of keeping the anger-demon away. “So, you told this Sean guy my business?”

  “No,” she said firmly, a touch of fear in her eyes. “I told him you were having problems and I wanted to help. I told him I wanted you to come here to live with me and get away from a bad situation. I didn’t tell him anything, Rena – not at first.”

  The anger that had started to simmer suddenly boiled over as my jaw fell. “Not at first? What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that I was extremely upset about what happened, too. I still am. I needed someone to talk to and I told him what was going on.”

  “Great,” I said, teeth clenched as I spun around, not sure what to do or how to control my surging emotions. “So now the whole town knows, huh?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be so dramatic,” she scolded. I still didn’t look at her – couldn’t. I was too angry and a bit embarrassed. “Sean won’t say anything. I asked him not to and he said he wouldn’t. He understands better than you realize, Rena.”

  “Why?” I asked in a low voice. “Why did you tell him?”

  “I told you,” she said, exasperated. “I just wanted someone to talk to – someone to listen to how I was feeling. Someone to comfort me.”

  I couldn’t identify with her. I mean, I had someone to talk to and I felt better because I wasn’t talking to her. I didn’t feel the need to spill my guts – didn’t want the hassle of accepting sympathy and condolences. I didn’t want to forget Camille, per se, but I wanted to just forget about what happened and try to move on.

  Selfish – yes, but honest all the same. I couldn’t just be any longer. I wanted to live. I wanted to start over. I wanted to be Rena, whoever that was.

  “Fine,” I conceded, no fight left in me. “I guess I see what you’re saying.”

  “Rena, he’s not going to tell anyone you know, don’t worry.”

  I spun around to flash a faux smile. “I know – it’s cool. I need to finish some homework. Good night.”

  I left her gaping after me but I needed to flee. I did want to get some homework done and get some sleep. I just wanted it to be Thursday so I could see Fin and perhaps even accompany him to hockey practice after school since I was free.

  But as I tossed under the covers, Camille haunted my thoughts. I couldn’t shake her out of my head and it drove me nuts. I rolled to my stomach and pressed my pillow to the back of my head, squeezing my eyes tight in hopes of dispelling her from my mind.

  She danced before my eyes, her blonde hair, so like mine, bouncing on her shoulders. Her blue eyes were bright and happy as she reached for me, coaxing me to join her. I shook my head, denying her, not in the least interested in dancing to the BoyzTown tune.

  “Come on, Rena,” she wheedled. “You know you want to! I’m your baby sister! You can’t tell me no!”

  “I just did,” I laughed, my feet firm. “I am not dancing. I do not like BoyzTown and you know it.”

  “Rena!” She dropped my hands to cross her arms over her chest, stomping her foot angrily. “I’ll tell Mom.”

  I shrugged, smirking at her agitation. It was far too easy to rile her up. “Tell Mom, I don’t care.”

  “You don’t love me, do you?” Her bottom lip quivered as her eyes filled with tears. I tried to steel my heart to her tactics but I could feel my resolve crumbling. “You don’t care what happens to me. You want me to be dead. You want to forget I was ever born. You just want to be happy no matter what it means to me. You want to forget that it was all your fault in the first place…”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head and reaching for her. She took several steps back, moving out of my reach. “No, Camille, that’s just not true.”

  “It is too and you know it. You’re so selfish,” she accused, tears spilling down her freckled cheeks. “You don’t love me.”

  “No! Camille, NO!”

  I kicked the tangled blankets off my legs as I struggled to sit up and figure out where I was. My heart pounded as sweat drenched the collar of my pajama shirt and my bangs. I rubbed my eyes, not giving them a chance to adjust to the darkness, and found them moist, too.

  Pain ripped through my chest, tearing my insides wide open and leaving them vulnerable to infection and disease. Heavy weights settled in my lungs, making it difficult to draw a breath. Fear flooded me and it felt as though fire ants were biting and crawling all over my body. I sucked in air, releasing it raggedly only to repeat the process. And all the while, tears streamed down my cheeks, just as they had Camille in my dream.

  It took me about ten minutes to calm myself. I silently thanked God that I was in the basement and Aunt Franki’s room was on the second floor. I didn’t want her seeing me in that sort of shape – she would have had me in the emergency room quicker than I could say ‘panic attack.’

  When I was finally able to fall back to my pillows, I drudged up the strange dream, ready to rip it to shreds so I wouldn’t ever wake like that again.

  I sighed heavily. Even Nightmare Camille agreed that I’d been ultimately responsible for her disappearance. I knew that if she ever came home again, she’d never forgive me. And why would she? I’d never forgive myself.

  ***

  The good mood I’d been in all week crashed down on me Thursday morning as I prepared for school. I woke up late and rushed through the shower, skipping breakfast as I ran out the door. I tried to push the dark, gloomy clouds away so I could resume the elated feelings I’d experienced earlier that week.

  I spotted Fin lounging against my locker and it did lift my spirits enough to bring a smile to my face. I fell into him, allowing my body to relax against his as his arms circled me.

  “Good morning,” he said, dropping a kiss in my hair. “Something the matter?”

  “No,” I lied, mumbling into his chest. I drew back and lifted my chin so he could peck my lips quickly. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes darkened. “Why?”

  “I don’t know – no particular reason,” I said as I pulled out of his embrace to open my locker. I withdrew the books I needed for my morning classes and shelved the ones I wouldn’t need, all the while, very much aware of his eyes watching my every move. “I think I’m a bit worried about my math test tomorrow.”

  “You’ll do fine,” he said in an unconvincing tone. “But you’ll be late if you
don’t pick up the pace.”

  I slammed the locker door and took his hand. We walked toward my first class a little more quickly than usual. We didn’t have much time for conversation which I was grateful for because I didn’t want his questions.

  My morning classes dragged, partly because I was tired and partly because I was eager to be in Fin’s company again. He was like the sun on a cloudy day, as cliché as that sounded. But it worked for me. I could concentrate on being a girlfriend and not a daughter or sister when I was with him and I liked that.

  By lunch, I was ready to curl up in my car and snooze away the afternoon but I’d never get away with it. I’d been lucky when I’d had my fit a few weeks back and had stormed out of the classroom – I didn’t need to push that luck any further.

  “You still look tired,” Fin said when he took the seat next to me. “And where’s your food?”

  “Not really hungry,” I admitted with a shrug. I ignored his disapproving look and sipped my soft drink instead.

  “So,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you busy tonight?”

  Perking, I gave him a smile. “Not at all. Why?”

  His expression brightened. “Do you want to hang out with me for a little bit after practice?”

  “Definitely,” I said, elated that I didn’t have to meet with Roberta. It was too difficult trying to spend quality time with him while I tended to my duties at the convenience store. Maybe we’d be able to grab something to eat or just sit and talk somewhere. “Should I meet you at the Community Center?”

  “Sure,” he said as Grant joined us with a grimace. He winked at me as he opened a carton of milk and chugged it in one drink.