Losing Grip

by Mercy Amare

  “Is that the same Brody Johnson that Sebastian is talking about?” Isaac asks, leaning over to look at the messages on my phone.

  I lock my phone and stick it back in my pocket. “Is there no privacy here?”

  “I don’t know,” Isaac says. “We just got here. But considering there are only one hundred and fifty kids at this school, I’m going to say no. At a school this small, things are bound to get around.”

  “What is Brody saying?” Sebastian asks me.

  “He wants to take me to lunch.”

  “You said no, right?” He looks at my untouched food.

  “Actually, I said yes.”

  Sebastian sighs. “Fine, Jinger. Be friends with him if you want. But, someday soon, I will be saying I told you so.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sebastian says.

  “For which part?” I ask.

  He sighs. “All of it. You’re right. You don’t know him, yet. You should be able to judge for yourself.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “I forgive you,” I tell him. “Just don’t do it again.”

  He smiles, but I can tell it’s forced. “Have fun with Brody.”

  “I will. And I will see you tonight.”

  “I’ll come to your dorm at seven. Is that all right?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. See you then.”

  I get up from the table, dump my food, and head outside just as Brody pulls up. And I’m jealous.

  Brody drives a Mercedes SLS. It’s red. And it’s a convertible.

  I mean, I like my Bentley better, but I’m jealous of the fact that his dad let him get a convertible.

  “Stop lusting over my car,” Brody says, as I get inside.

  It still had that new car smell.

  “I’m not lusting. Just... admiring,” I correct.

  “Don’t forget friendship rule number two.”

  I laugh.

  No asking to drive my car.

  Good one.

  “I’m perfectly fine with driving my Bentley,” I say. “When I got it, I wanted a convertible, but my dad wouldn’t let me. He said that a convertible wasn’t as collision safe.”

  “He’s right.”

  “But he doesn’t care. His life would probably be easier if I was gone.”

  Brody looks over at me. “Don’t say stuff like that. It makes you sound suicidal.”

  “I’m not.” Not anymore.

  “When I was a sophomore, I had a girlfriend kill herself,” he tells me. “We had dated for six months and the whole time we were together, I had no idea that she was depressed.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, and I mean it.

  Death sucks.

  When I was younger, I considered taking my life several times. I don’t know what stopped me from actually doing it. Maybe it was the thought of leaving Caleb alone. He’s already lost one sister, he doesn’t need to lose another.

  But then last year... after what happened, I knew I could leave Caleb. I knew that he was hurting just as badly as I was.

  Caleb needs me.

  And I need him.

  After he gets out of rehab, nothing is going to keep us apart.

  Especially not my dad.

  “It’s not your fault,” he says.

  “Yeah, but I’m sorry that you had to go through the pain. That’s definitely got to put a damper on all your future relationships.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t dated anybody since her. It’s been two years since she died. I’m not heartbroken over her anymore. But, I just... haven’t wanted anybody else,” he tells me. “Until I saw you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. You.”

  “You just met me. And I’m so not meaning to quote that song, but this is crazy.”

  He laughs. “I’m not asking you to commit yourself to me. I’m just telling you that I like you—at least what I know of you. I’m attracted to you. And I want to go on a date with you.”

  “A date?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Go to the dance with me tonight. Or, let’s skip it. We can do something else.”

  “I already told Sebastian that I’d go with him. As friends.”

  “So, cancel.”

  “No. Sebastian is my friend,” I say. “I promised you a dance, so if you come tonight, I will dance with you.”

  “Then tomorrow,” he says. “Tomorrow is Sunday—the last official day before school starts. Spend the day with me. We can go off campus and do something fun. We could go into the city.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  We reach the gates and show the guard our student IDs. I got mine made yesterday, and yes, I look like a criminal in the picture. I think there is an unwritten rule that says all student IDs have to look like mugshots, because I’ve never seen a good one.

  Once we are out of the gate, Brody smiles at me.

  “So... I told you one personal thing about me. Now it’s your turn,” he says.

  I shake my head. “No way. That is so not how this works. You’re breaking rule number one.”

  “I didn’t qualify it. I didn’t say it had to be something sad. Just... tell me something about you. Something that not many people know.”

  Hmm...

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ve never cooked before. Ever.”

  “Not even boiling water?”

  “Nope.”

  “Microwave?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wow,” he says. “My new mission in life is to have you cook something.”

  I laugh. “Okay.”

  “Have you never wanted to try?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. Any time I want something, Francesca cooks it for me. She’s been working for the family for seventeen years, before I was even born. She would probably be offended if I wanted to cook something for myself.”

  “Your family is really rich,” he says.

  “And your family isn’t?” I ask, motioning around us. “You’re a seventeen year old who is driving a Mercedes.”

  “My family doesn’t have live-in staff. We have a maid who comes two times a week to clean, do laundry, and grocery shop for us,” he says. “And we have a pool boy that comes once a week. But that’s it.”

  “So, you know how to cook?”

  “Yes, I do,” he says. “I have an older sister. When we are both at home, we take turns cooking for each other, and for my parents on the rare occasion that they’re home.”

  “Aside from the holidays, I don’t think my family has ever eaten a meal together,” I tell him. “Not even my brother and I, and we’re close.”

  “That is really sad.”

  “That’s my life.”

  Sad.

  Depressing.

  Lonely.

  Sometimes I wonder, if I ran away would anybody even notice. I could go to a small town somewhere and change my name. I’d probably see a report on the news about six months later saying I was missing.

  If. Only.

  But then I think of Caleb. He needs me. And if I’m being honest, I need him too.

  So, I won’t be running. At least, not anytime soon.

  6 p.m.

  You look like my next bae.

  My roommate still hasn’t come, but some of her luggage was delivered while I ate lunch with Brody. Part of me wants to look inside and see what she’s packed. I’m curious about her. But, I don’t, because I wouldn’t want somebody looking through my stuff.

  Brody took me to eat lunch at a nice sushi restaurant. I ate way more than I usually do, which Brody said wasn’t enough. And afterwards, we just drove around town with the top down.

  I love the feeling of the wind blowing through my hair.

  He brought me back home so I could get ready for the dance. Right before I went up to my dorm room, I finally gave him my number.

  Tonight, I’ve decided to actually take the time to curl my hair into big curls. I also did my makeup... well, I put on m
ascara. It’s the only makeup I have. I wouldn’t put more on, even if I had it.

  I wear a cute, hot pink dress that’s fitted at the top and flares out at my hips. It goes right above my knees, and I like it. I feel comfortable in it, and it successfully covers my scars.

  I put on a pair of hot pink converse with my dress. Maybe that makes me weird, but I don’t like heels.

  As I’m waiting for Sebastian to come get me, I take a picture and put it on Instagram. I immediately get a response. From Drew, of course.

  Drew Watson: Damn, girl. You look like my next bae.

  I roll my eyes.

  I definitely won’t be Drew’s bae. Or anybody else’s, for that matter.

  I get another notification. It’s a Snapchat from Drew. He isn’t wearing a shirt and he’s flexing his muscles. He doesn’t look bad. In fact, he’s rather attractive. He has a six pack and nice biceps.

  Your turn ;)

  I take a selfie.

  In your dreams.

  I send it just as there is a knock on my door.

  I run my hands over the front of my dress and then walk over to open the door.

  Sebastian is standing on the other side, and he looks good. He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a teal shirt underneath the jacket. The top few buttons of the shirt are undone... just enough to make me wonder what is under his shirt. His black hair is slightly messy, but in an intentional way.

  And his eyes.

  How have I never noticed his eyes before?

  They’re dark. So dark they almost look black. But if you look closely, you can see the tiniest flecks of green in them.

  “Hey,” he says. One side of his lip is lifted into a smirk, and I realize that yes, I had been staring.

  “Hi,” I say back, and avert my eyes. My face feels warm, and I’m pretty sure that I’m blushing.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I say, trying not to sound awkward. “You look very nice too.”

  He grins at my compliment.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asks, holding out his arm for me.

  I stuff my phone into my bra and take his arm.

  This definitely isn’t a date, but it kind of feels like one.

  The welcome back to school dance is really relaxed and chill. There is a DJ playing music, and everybody is dancing, just having a good time.

  The thing I love most is that everybody is dancing. There is nobody standing on the side lines. Maybe it’s because people here have more confidence? Or maybe it’s because this is fun. It doesn’t matter how bad you suck at dancing... tonight is about having fun, making memories, and reconnecting with your friends. Or in my case, making friends.

  Another thing I’m noticing—I’ve been here two days now. And nobody, besides Brody, has said anything about my last name. I thought it would be like my old school, where people would try to use me. But so far, it’s not.

  I might just fall in love with New Haven Academy. It kind of feels like a haven already.

  “Hey, Bae. Dance with me,” Drew says, holding out his hand for me.

  I accept his hand. “I’m not your bae, but I will dance with you.”

  “You will be my bae,” he says.

  I shake my head at him.

  “I got you to smile.”

  And I realize he’s right. I am smiling.

  “You have a really pretty smile,” he says. “You should do it more often.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re one of the prettiest girls I have ever met and I don’t think you even realize it. I don’t know what has happened in your life to make you so sad, but I’m going to make it my mission to always make you smile.”

  It is at this exact moment, I get what Sebastian was saying.

  Drew grows on you.

  Yes, he’s annoying.

  Yes, I want to punch him ninety-seven percent of the time.

  But it’s now, the three percent, that makes me want to be his best friend.

  “I have a feeling that you will be able to make me smile often,” I tell him.

  “I told you, girl. You my bae.”

  Ugh.

  And now he’s annoying again.

  “Please, for the love of books, use proper grammar when you talk.”

  He laughs.

  We don’t say anything through the rest of the dance. We just dance like nobody is watching, because nobody is. He twirls me, dips me and literally dances in circles around me.

  He’s not a good dancer.

  But he’s very entertaining and has me laughing the whole time.

  He and I might be friends after all.

  “Thanks for the dance,” Drew says, as the song comes to an end.

  “Thanks for making me laugh.”

  He grins. “See you later, Bae.”

  I roll my eyes, but can’t stop the smile. “I’m not your bae.”

  I feel somebody touch the back of my hair, so I turn around and come face to face with Brody.

  Brody Johnson is... hot. I have never been attracted to a guy before, like I am to him. He’s the kind of guy that belongs on the big screen. His face and body were made for the camera. I wonder if he sings, because if he was in a boy band, girls would eat him up.

  I especially like the way he looks all dressed up. He’s wearing a dark purple dress shirt, and a black suit. There is something so adorable about a guy who can wear purple.

  “Can I have this dance?” Brody asks, holding out his hand.

  Just as I grab it, a slow song comes on. I really thought stuff like that only happened in movies, but this is real. And I can’t help but swoon just a little bit as he pulls me close to him.

  I look Brody in the eyes as we dance. I can’t get over how beautiful they are.

  “It kind of sucks watching you dance with other guys,” he tells me, as we sway back and forth slowly.

  “Maybe next time I will be all yours.” As the words leave my mouth, I want them back. Comments like that are supposed to stay in my head. Why did my mouth decide to betray me? Ugh...

  Brody grins big. “Next time, huh?”

  My face warms. “I... um...”

  “I like that you’re thinking about a next time with me,” he says. “I already told you, I like you. It’s nice to know that you feel the same.”

  My mouth goes dry and all I can do is nod my head like an idiot. Now that I actually want to talk, my mouth won’t move.

  It’s safe to say that I may be developing a crush on Brody.

  And why wouldn’t I? Besides being gorgeous, he’s also really nice. He’s easy to talk to. And apparently, he feels the same.

  But then, I think of all the reasons why he should never have a crush on me.

  Number one—I am messed up. I come with so much baggage, and it’s not fair to put that on him. He hasn’t seen the real me. He sees the facade—the mask I put on to hide the real me. And I am not ready to show him. Hell, I haven’t even shown my brother, the one person who cares the most about me.

  Number two—my scars. He might think I’m pretty, but if he saw what was underneath, he would run. As he should. My scars are ugly. But the scars on the outside are nothing compared to the scars on the inside.

  “You shouldn’t like a girl like me,” I tell him, once I am finally able to speak. “You should run, now. It’s only a matter of time before I come crashing down and if you’re around, I’m only going to take you with me. I don’t want that for you.”

  “But what if I can save you?”

  “You can’t.” I shake my head. “You look at me, and you’re reminded of your ex-girlfriend. You see a scared, hurt little girl. You think that if you can somehow save me, that it will make up for the past.”

  “That’s not true, Jinger.”

  “It is,” I say. “The truth is you don’t know me well enough to like me. Once you get to know me better, you will see that I’m not worth the hassle.”

  “So, let me get to know you better. Don’t push me away bef
ore we even have the chance,” he says. I can see the hope in his eyes.

  Maybe he really does think he likes me.

  But once he really sees, he will leave. And I will be alone.

  “I’m just asking to be your friend, Jinger. That’s it right now. Friends.”

  Friendship.

  Isn’t that what I have been offering Drew and Sebastian? How can I say no to Brody when he wants the same thing.

  So, I nod. “Friends.”

  He smiles. “You won’t regret it, Jinger Grace Rivera.”

  I certainly hope not.

  11 p.m.

  Allow me to introduce you to Sam and Dean.

  I had fun at the dance. I got to dance with Sebastian, Drew, Brody, Isaac, and I got to meet a few new people. I can’t remember their names, but I’m sure I will get them down soon, in a school this small.

  I got back to the dorms literally five minutes before curfew, took a shower, and now I’m sitting on my bed in my pajamas. I have my computer out and I’m about to update my blog when I get a text from Sebastian.

  Sebastian: I’m bored. Too wired to sleep. Want to hang out?

  Me: Sure.

  Five seconds after I hit send there is a knock on my door. I open it and see Sebastian on the other side. I pull him inside and shut the door.

  “What are you doing here? We could get in trouble,” I say.

  Having boys in your dorm after curfew is against the rules. According to the handbook, it can result in expulsion. The last thing I need is to be expelled before school even starts.

  He holds up a plastic sack. “I brought snacks.”

  I grab the bag, walk over to my bed and sit down. I spread the snacks on the bed, and smile when I see my favorite energy drink and dill pickle flavored chips.

  Sebastian comes and sits down on the opposite side.

  He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I just remember that I’m in my pajamas. My shorts are barely long enough to cover my scars. I pull at them.

  “Maybe I should change,” I say, standing up.