Loved In Pieces (The Intentions Series)

by Carla J Hanna

  The problem is that I’m really good at acting. I tried to make myself hate it, tried to think it was not what I wanted to do, that an acting career was forced upon me. But honestly, it is what it is. Acting comes naturally to me. My latest film was good, and it has been cool being a part of its success. Lately, I learned that I could continue acting but specify my own terms so that I didn’t have to do industry events, which I find painful. I know it is ironic that students go to college to learn how to act and here I know how to act already.

  Why would I go to college? What would I study? Do I have a future anyway? Will I die tomorrow? I’m not replaceable. The show must go on. It’s so hard to keep breathing! — CSY7

  I pressed send and then shut down my computer. I was ready for my Wednesday exams and history final. I heard the door close.

  “Manuel, what are you doing back?” I blurted out, so grateful that he returned.

  He laughed as walked down the hall to my bedroom. “I want to stay with my girl tonight. I’ve missed you.” He embraced me in the doorway and slowed his breathing. He relaxed. “I’m addicted to you. Now I can get some sleep.” He kissed my forehead and walked into the hallway. “I’ll make you some tea while you get ready for bed. How about I hold you all night?”

  I smiled, “I’d love that.”

  I changed and walked towards the kitchen. I stopped when I saw Manuel gazing out the windows in the living room. I wrapped my arms around him and stood beside him, also taking in the magnificent view of the ocean and canyon. The sun had set but the sky was still blue.

  He whispered, “You are this view. I’ve thought so since I’ve been a kid. You’re this anomaly in Santa Monica, beautiful and pure when you should be a rich brat, all fake and superficial.”

  I disagreed, “No, I thought I was real, but I’m one-hundred percent made. I’m not natural, not even close.”

  “You are natural, just like the canyon. One hundred years ago, this canyon would have looked like a canyon north of Malibu, right? But people built homes and planted trees and plants with beautiful flowers. They grew. This is what was created, and it’s beautiful, just like you. You’re real and have your spirits. They’re here, with you, in you.”

  His words moved me. He appreciated me for what I held the most dear: the beauty and power of nature. I kissed him, but the kiss moved me too, left me breathless, filled me with love and beauty, and peace.

  I looked into his glorious eyes and admitted, “You’ve just tattooed my heart again. We share our souls, Manuel, have the same values. Your spirit is in me and has been for a very long time. I used to think it was impossible for you to love me as much as I love you, but here we are. Thank you for loving me.”

  “I feel the same way. You always complain that you can feel me get angry, that I emit hostility. You’re the opposite. You radiate joy, like right now. I feel it. It fills me up inside, makes me so happy.”

  I smiled at him, “You emanate hostility on those rare occasions but most of the time you radiate warmth when you’re around me. I feel it right now. You relax me and smell really good.”

  We held each other and shared the view, letting our love fill our hearts.

  ~ | ~ VIEWS

  My finals were not going well. I bombed the English final and struggled in Chemistry. I did fine in Chinese and botched the history final.

  In English, I had to write an essay about Sylvia Plath’s poem, but I didn’t know the poem well enough. I hated her confessional poetry so I didn’t study it. Manuel and Mitch hated it, too. I thought Plath’s poetry was completely over-rated. She was depressed, mentally ill, and was a selfish bitch who killed herself by putting her head in the kitchen oven with the gas on while her two kids were sleeping in their beds, not caring that her kids might find her. Putting her talented but dark poetry on a pedestal irritated me. It was irresponsible that critics did that kind of crap, just like they did with my first movie, where everyone loved taking a horrible story of a child getting raped and putting it in everyone’s faces. Why should a teenager want to read despairing poetry about some twisted lady who hated her life? Yuck. Why didn’t my teacher choose Eliot or Frost. There was darkness in their poetry, but there was also hope and beauty. Seriously, I hated that this culture praises the psycho stuff and marginalizes the hopeful literature. By choosing Plath, our high school educators acclaimed her whining as excellence and an ideal that teens should applaud. Of course Plath was chosen. Of course Left to Die won the Academy Award. Of course Michelle won Best Actress. Of course I did, too. That was the essay I wanted to write for the exam.

  I also couldn’t remember what a sow was, which was the subject of Plath’s awful poem. I thought it was a female pig but I wasn’t sure. How did I write an essay on a sow in a poem by a poet I couldn’t stand reading? Why after I found out that Kate and Michelle were both psycho?

  In the History final, I expected to write short essays about why events became significant and influential. Instead, we had to draw our own Western Civilization timeline, with dates. That was the entire final. I was so frustrated because I was able to memorize stuff like a timeline in a flash. If I had only looked at the Western Civ timeline for even fifteen minutes I would have aced the final. It also infuriated me because I was half-Native American, from a culture close to extinction from the subtle tyranny of U.S. policymakers.

  Wiped out, I drove from school to Alan’s house. I met Manuel, Mitch, Beth and Alan at Alan’s backyard pool. Several girls who I recognized as cheerleaders were swimming in the pool with Sam and some guys. I waved at them. They were all drunk, laughing and clowning around.

  “Hi Manuel!” I squealed when I saw him. “Hey Mitch, Beth, Alan.”

  Manuel bolted out of his chair towards me, smiling. He lifted me off the ground into a bear hug. We kissed each other passionately. My entire body tingled. I fainted.

  I came to, but was dizzy. It took me a minute to regain my footing. That was quite a kiss. I realized that Manuel’s drinking impaired the control he forced upon himself. He still desperately wanted me. So we actually felt the same way. Good.

  “Are you okay?” Manuel studied my face.

  I looked into Manuel’s eyes, telling him how I felt without words, “I’m really good. I very much liked that kiss.”

  Alan was watching us. “Wow, man. I never thought I’d see that in Marie’s face. She totally wants to fuck you, man. Damn. You squeezed her so hard she fainted. Who’d think Marie would go for S&M?”

  “Shut up, Alan,” Beth ordered in her slight Polish-English accent. “You think you’re entitled to talk like you’re Tweeting about some porno. Show some respect.”

  Alan ignored her. “Dude, you have to give me pointers. You’ve seen the hottest girls in the school naked. If I could be half as powerful as you, I’d have every hot girl in Santa Monica. Damn. Kate’s the hottest cheerleader. Beth is the hottest girl in school. Marie’s the hottest girl in the world.”

  Mitch complained to Beth, “When did Manny see you naked?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, “It’s not sexual. We swim in the ocean together. We don’t ride home from the beach in our soaking wetsuits. Alan is just trying to piss off you and Marie.”

  I already knew that they saw each other naked. They held a towel up for each other so they could change. I didn’t care. I looked at Alan. He knew so he must have seen them. I asked, “How did you know, Alan?”

  He answered, “Duh, Kate told me. It pissed her off.”

  I asked, “So did you spy on them or something, see them change?”

  He glared at Manuel, “I didn’t want to see Manny naked, just Beth.”

  This time Alan was too inappropriate. He felt our contempt. Beth spoke slowly, “You are such an asshole, Alan. I’m so done with you!”

  Alan backpedaled, “Sorry, I’m too drunk. I didn’t mean anything by it. Don’t be pissed Mitch; she loves you. Forget I said anything.”

  Beth shook her head, “No, Alan, I’ve had enough. I don’t give a shi
t anymore, trying to get along with you for the peace of the group. I freakin’ hate you!”

  Alan whined, “No, you don’t. I’m sorry. I’m just drunk and stupid. Please like me. I love you so much. And besides, I have your graduation present here. Please let me give it to you. You guys are my best friends. I’m sorry I’m a dick. You know I don’t mean it.”

  Beth and Mitch stayed seated. Beth didn’t comment.

  Alan asked apologetically, “Marie, do you want me to make you your one drink? Cosmo?”

  “No, Alan. I won’t be drinking tonight. I don’t want to lose control with Manuel in front of anyone.” I laughed but I was absolutely serious and had affirmed my feelings.

  Alan changed the subject, “Hey, did you guys read on today’s school page that over fifty girls from our class admitted that they are getting their tits done after graduation?”

  Beth responded, “Weak. There’s no way I’d change my body to be sexy for a man. Not a chance.”

  Alan said, “Beth, you don’t need to. You’re hot. You’ve got good tits already and you have a great, cut body. I can see your abs through your swimsuit and your ass is perfect. You’re ‘ripped perfect.’ And look at Marie’s body. ‘Smooth perfect.’”

  Mitch glared at Alan and then smiled at Beth, “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  I ignored Alan. Manuel held my hand as we walked toward the table, but his arm was stiff. Beth said something to Manuel in German. He answered her in German and kissed my cheek.

  Manuel spoke slowly to Alan, “Don’t talk about Marie and Beth disrespectfully. Got it?”

  “Fine, asshole.” Alan explained, “I’m not saying anything they don’t know already. Everyone voted on my Facebook page. Beth was voted nicest ass, second best tits, and best athlete and Marie best tits. Sorry, Marie, you didn’t make the nice ass list but got hottest actress. That bitch I took to prom got hottest future porn star.”

  Manuel addressed Alan, “Another comment from you about our girls and the four of us are out of here.”

  Alan glared at Manuel and asked Mitch, “So are you guys going to do that triathlon on Saturday before graduation?”

  Manuel answered, “I’m not. I want to be with Marie.”

  Beth responded, “Oh, okay, then we don’t need your mom’s car, Mitch. We can take yours.”

  “Or yours, Beth,” Alan interrupted.

  We all looked at Alan. Beth didn’t own a car. He took out an envelope out of his backpack and handed it to Beth. “Happy graduation. I bought you a car, a Subaru Outback, so you can put your bikes on top and take your dog with you. It’s parked in front. I put your name on the title and threw on a bike rack.”

  Beth’s jaw dropped. She slowly opened the envelope. She put the keys in her hand and looked at the title. She looked conflicted. I didn’t understand her reaction.

  Beth spoke slowly, “Alan, this is too much. I can’t accept it. What are you going to beg me for in return? I won’t let you see my body, ever…never, ever.” She looked at him coldly.

  Alan grinned, “No strings attached this time, no threats to get your mom fired, nothing but appreciation for you. Please take the fucking car so you can stop getting naked with Manny all the time and go run with your dog on those trails north of Malibu instead of running with him.” Alan’s eyes narrowed at Manuel. Manuel’s anger filled the air.

  I interrupted, “Oh, Beth, I forgot to ask if you decided on your scholarship. Manuel told me you got four great scholarships but were still trying to get out of L.A.”

  Her face fell, “Yeah. I didn’t get the scholarships to either Stanford or Berkeley. I would have if I won State but I didn’t swim my best time. They both have girls who swim faster than me. One was injured at Stanford so I really wanted the spot but she’s three seconds faster in the 800 Free, which is a lot. Of course they are one of the top programs in the nation. UCLA is about twentieth, but the scholarship was awesome. I get to be an academic there, too. The program would set me up for a great medical school. The other scholarships were from schools in the top ten, but would be just swimming. I don’t want that. Swimming is a means to an end. I want the academics.”

  I agreed, “Maybe you’ll fall in love with UCLA.”

  She laughed, “Marie, not likely. I hate living in L.A. There’s no place to run, bike, swim. The ocean is polluted, freezing, full of critters and jellies. Every path is crowded. It’s not safe. I can’t have Manny protecting me for the rest of my life. After we did the awesome Boulder tri series, I did the Malibu triathlon in September last year. Five thousand people on Zuma Beach. Thank God Mitch was my gear guy or we would have missed the start because there was absolutely nowhere to park. Ya know, you run fast, too. I hate running on pavement, stopping at the traffic lights all the time. I hate running around some track. It would be so cool to run with my dog off leash. Ya know the Stanford Hill; it’s heaven and right there! And biking here sucks. Okay, you’ve got the PCH at dawn. That’s it. Within an hour from Berkeley you’ve got wine country. From Stanford? You’ve got Los Altos or Atherton and Woodside. It’s heaven.”

  Alan interrupted, “Now you have a car. You can drive to open spaces. Will you take your gift, Beth, please?”

  Beth looked at Alan and sighed, “Thanks, Alan. I love it. You’ve got the power again so be happy. You rich kids get so very happy when you’re in control.”

  “You poor baby,” Alan sneered. “It’s my little thank you for putting up with me being an ass.”

  “You guys seem mad at each other. Are you guys kidding?” I asked.

  Beth answered, “No. Alan can have anything he wants but love and power, just like you. Every guy at this table loves you Marie, but it’s never been enough for you. You need to own Manny, don’t ya?”

  Manuel bellowed, “Alright! Enough you guys!”

  Mitch whispered something to Beth and they excused themselves. Alan and Manuel glared at each other and then Alan got up to get himself another beer.

  I asked, “What’s going on with you and Alan and Beth?”

  “You. Beth and I’ve been arguing about everything. She doesn’t like that I act like a puppy around you. And Franz pissed her off when he told her she was a product. Alan’s pissed that I got my girl. He’s liked you for a very long time but not as long as I’ve loved you.” Manuel leaned forward in his chair and held my hand. “I’m still in shock that you love me. Ya know that I’m yours forever.”

  “And I’m yours forever, too. It’s not puppy love.”

  ~ | ~ CONFESSIONS

  I wanted to get the discussion with Kate off my chest. Manuel and I found a large chaise on the other side of Alan’s pool and cuddled together. I wanted to get right to the point. His closeness made me tingle again.

  “Kate talked with me yesterday about her side of the break-up. She asked me to promise that I don’t tell anyone, but she knows that I’ll tell you. If I tell you, will you try to keep it between the two of you?”

  “Do you think less of me now that she talked to you? What did she tell you bad about me?”

  “No, Manuel, no. I don’t think any less of you. I do think less of her, though. But she knew that I would, that you would, that we would think less of her, too.”

  Manuel moved me over so that we were facing each other. He demanded, “Lia, what…did…she say?”

  “It wasn’t like that. She told me what she did. How she hurt you. That she’s sorry. She knew you were in love with me, and it pissed her off.”

  Once I brought myself into this, it changed how I had imagined how I would tell Manuel that the pregnancy was a ruse. Now that we were having the conversation, I didn’t want Manuel to explain himself to me. What he did in his relationship with my former best friend was not my business. I felt awkward.

  Manuel remembered, “I’ve always been in love with you. She knew that. I tried to deny it when she confronted me. She saw us in the stands at the homecoming game together. She said she saw me close my eyes and smell your hair. That’s w
hy I got the tattoo. She wanted me to prove to her that I was in love with her, not you.”

  He was sad and his shoulders slouched. He looked down. “I loved her, so it was easy to repress my feelings for you until she brought it up. The problem was that after she forced me to explain my feelings for you, I knew it was absolutely true that I was in love with you. I couldn’t ignore how I burned for you when I thought of you. I felt weak, dishonest.”

  “You don’t need to explain yourself, Manuel. I know you’re a good man. This is none of my business.”

  “No, Lia. You should know, so you don’t think I’m the prick that I’m sure she told you I am.”

  “I know you’re not…” I started.

  He put his hand up and continued. “When she changed her mind about not having sex, I was hoping that releasing the tension I felt would make me love her more and reduce my feelings for you. It didn’t work. I couldn’t get that memory of you getting out of your red bikini out of my mind. I wanted to have sex with you, not her. Then it hit me that I loved you each time I saw your picture, and I started seeing your picture everywhere. It started to be painful to know I was in love with you.”

  He paused and kissed my forehead. “I know this sounds strange, but I’m so grateful that Kate made me realize how much I loved you. It’s so much easier with you. She always had to be seen at parties in her millions of new clothes and shoes, crap like that. She hated my apartment and me reading books and stuff. She had so many rules and never told the truth like you do. Life just wouldn’t have been complete if I didn’t get the chance to be your boyfriend.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I feel the same way. I even told her that after she told me the rest.”

  He worried, “There’s more?”

  “Yes. Kate said she deliberately put magazines and tabloids in front of you that had pictures of me in them so that she could gauge your reactions. She said that she was absolutely sure you were in love with me by your response.”