Broken Fairytales

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Broken Fairytales Page 8

by Monica Alexander


  “Ben, you don’t have to do that,” I said, acting like it wasn’t a necessary gesture, when in reality, I wanted nothing else than for him to dismiss her from his life completely.

  “No, I will,” he said, nodding earnestly.

  I laughed at his enthusiasm. “Okay, whatever you want.”

  “I just want you,” he said, as he leaned down to kiss me. I kissed him back, realizing how much I did like kissing him.

  When Ben pulled away, he was smiling. He leaned back against the porch railing, and I leaned against him, resting my head on his chest. I let him hold me until I had go, knowing it was what he needed, but truthfully, in that moment, I needed it too.

  “I have to go,” I said, looking up at him, knowing we needed to leave if wanted to get to the beach by the time we’d told my Mom we’d be there. She’d have a conniption if we were late.

  “I know,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss me. “I miss you already.”

  “Me too,” I said, knowing I wasn’t lying. I really would miss him.

  He kissed me once more before I headed back inside.

  “I’m almost ready,” I told Keely, as I walked back into my room, looking around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

  “Whatever,” Keely said again, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I’m in no hurry to start my summer from hell. Did you guys make up?”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  “Yea,” she said sarcastically, pumping her fist in the air. “Nothing but first-class drama around here.”

  I shot her an annoyed look, but she didn’t see it.

  “Okay, I think I’m ready,” I said, standing up and grabbing my keys.

  “Good, ‘cause Chase just got home,” Keely said, peering out the window.

  Leaving the house, Keely followed me out the front door, wheeling her suitcase behind her while Chase went inside to get his bags. We solemnly piled into my SUV, Keely sighing audibly every few seconds. She looked miserable as she sat in the front seat next to me. I really hoped she’d snap out of it. She was the only person I’d have to hang out with all summer, and if she was going to be pouting, then I wasn’t about to be around her. In an effort to snap her back into her usual bubbly, fun self, I put on Katy Perry and smiled when all it took was one song for her to start tapping her foot while we waited for Chase who seemed to be taking forever and a day to get his bags.

  I laid on the horn, but it was a few more minutes before he came back outside. Walking past my open window without a word, he banged once on the back hatch, indicating that I should open it. It seemed our brother/sister bonding from the night before had ended at the stroke of midnight.

  “What the fuck is this crap,” he said, as he slid into the car behind Keely.

  “Katy Perry,” Keely said, turning around to face him.

  “Well, it sucks.”

  “It does not,” Keely retorted, as I backed out of the driveway.

  I could sense a fight coming on, so I looked into the rearview mirror to try and catch Chase’s eye. He was older, he should know better. He looked up at me for a second, his hooded eyes barely registering the look I gave him, but I knew he understood, because he leaned back and shut up.

  “You’re high,” I said simply, as I navigated out of our neighborhood.

  “Yup.”

  “That’s what you were doing just now, wasn’t it? You were smoking,” I accused, glaring at him, pissed that he’d held us up to so he could get high.

  “I knew you wouldn’t let me smoke in your car, so I didn’t have a choice,” he said, shrugging.

  Well, he was right.

  Next to me, Keely turned around to get a better look at Chase. “Wow, you really are high,” she said, taking in his vacant expression.

  “Chase, it’s 10 am,” I said, taking a different approach and knowing I sounded like our mother. Well, not really since she had no idea that her son was baked half the time.

  “So,” was all he said.

  So, I let it drop. I thought he was an idiot, but if he wanted to ruin his life, that was his problem. After he’d helped me the night before I decided I was going to make a concerted effort to not rag on him as much. He had saved me from embarrassing myself further or getting hurt, plus he’d helped me home. I had to be at least nice to him for that, even if I couldn’t understand his recreational habits.

  When the Katy Perry song ended, I let Chase pick the next song, telling them we’d alternate music, so everyone would be happy.

  “Pick whatever you want,” he said, sliding his ear buds in and closing his eyes, tuning me and the car ride out altogether.

  Just knowing he’d hate it, I put on Carrie Underwood. Keely was a fan, and I liked some of her songs. Hearing her singing about breaking up with someone, I was conflicted again. I wondered if I’d made a mistake in getting back together with Ben.

  I stole a glance at my brother in the rearview mirror and stared at him for a few seconds. He looked up and caught my eye. For a moment, it was like there was something unspoken between us, but I wasn’t sure what it was. We’d drifted so far apart over the years that it was hard to remember a time when we’d been friends or at least friendly.

  Part of me wanted to continue to hate him like I always had because it felt natural, but another part of me suddenly wanted to see if maybe our relationship could change. Obviously, there were a lot of things we’d have to adjust about how we treated each other, but could we actually be friends? Had last night possibly bridged some sort of a gap? He’d been nice to me – a protective older brother, just like he’d been to Keely. Was it just a fleeting moment of brotherly obligation that had caused him to react the way he did, or did he actually care about me? I was willing to give it a chance and see if maybe, by sheer proximity, we could work out our differences over the summer.

  That idea lasted exactly thirty minutes before Chase took out his ear buds and started to smirk and roll his eyes as Keely and I gossiped about people we knew and talked about clothes and shoes. At that point, I figured our relationship was too probably far gone and returned to hating him. At least it was a familiar feeling.

  Our trip was most peaceful when he fell asleep for two hours. I was almost tempted not to wake him when we stopped at McDonald’s for lunch but felt guilty, so I threw pen at his head to jar him awake. He jumped, startled, and I couldn’t help smirking.

  After giving us his order, Keely and I went into the restaurant while Chase lingered by the car, saying he needed to make a phone call.

  “Who’s he calling?” Keely asked, pulling her curls into a messy pile on top of her head as we waited in line.

  I shrugged. “Who knows? Probably his boyfriend, Davis,” I said, feeling instantly bad for calling my brother gay, because for all I knew, he was gay. I’d never seen him with a girl, so who knew, but if he was gay, I hoped he’d have better taste than his obnoxious best friend.

  Keely just giggled.

  Chase didn’t come inside until after we were already seated with our food. When he joined us, it was apparent that he hadn’t just been on the phone.

  “How many times a day do you actually smoke?” I asked sarcastically, as I took a bite of my cheeseburger.

  He shrugged, sticking five French fries into his mouth at once. “Four or five,” he said, around his mouthful of food.

  “You are such a dumbass,” I said, shaking my head and taking a sip of my Diet Coke.

  Chase smiled widely at me. “And you are a stuck-up, superficial bitch,” he said in an acidly sweet voice, before returning to his food.

  My eyes went wide, and I literally thought about hitting him. If we hadn’t been in a very public place, I might have taken a swing at him. Instead I glared at him and gritted my teeth, which wasn’t very effective since he wasn’t even looking at me. Again, I was letting him push my buttons, and that just infuriated me more.

  I was never happier when we finally arrived at the two story house on the beach that my parents had rented, and
I could get out of the car and away from Chase.

  Our Mom, hearing us pull up, came outside with a big smile on her face. “You’re here!” she cried, embracing Chase who had climbed out of the car first. He hugged her back, showing that he was, of course, the model son.

  I glared at his back as he moved past her into the house, lugging his duffel bags with him.

  After hugging us, my mom walked Keely and me inside, talking a mile a minute about all the fun things there were to do on the island. Keely mumbled something about calling Barrett and disappeared upstairs. I was left in the living room with my Mom who immediately asked if I wanted some iced tea. Being the good child, and not faking it like Chase or ducking out like Keely, I said yes and settled in at the kitchen table while she busied herself with pouring two glasses for us.

  For the next hour, she talked, and I listened and watched the beach outside. I was itching to change into my new pink bikini and join Keely who had already set up a beach chair ten feet from the water and was turning browner as my mother rambled on and on. When the phone rang, interrupting her, I used that as my excuse to leave the table, motioning to her where I was going. She smiled and nodded vigorously a few times.

  “Emily,” she said, as I started out of the room.

  “Yeah Mom,” I said, pausing in the doorway and turning around to look at her again. She had her hand over the receiver.

  “See if Chase wants to go down to the beach with you.”

  “Sure Mom,” I said, through gritted teeth, causing her to smile.

  Okay, fine, so I would invite Chase. What could it hurt? He’d probably say no anyway. I would be the good daughter, as always, and do what was asked of me. Sighing, I headed out to the front hall to pick up my suitcase and went upstairs in search of the room that would be mine for the next two months.

  Noticing the explosion of Keely’s clothes on the bed, I saw she had claimed the first room on the right that overlooked the front yard. The first room on the left, I assumed was Chase’s, as the door was closed and the industrial rock music he loved so much could be heard coming from inside. That left me the last bedroom on the left. Thankfully the upstairs bathroom separated my room from Chase’s, so it helped to muffle the sound a bit.

  The room itself was small but very quaint. It was decorated in typical beach fashion with white-washed furniture and little accents that would only look appropriate in a house near the ocean. On the dresser there was a vase full of sea grass and over it, a framed landscape of the beach. On the nightstand was the quintessential sea shell lamp, although this one was more tasteful with the base being made out of sand and the sea shells appearing to be imprinted into it. The color scheme was grass green and white, and the comforter on the bed was all white with green sheets and accent pillows. Under the window that overlooked the beach was a white wicker trunk that I gingerly placed my suitcase on, so I wouldn’t hurt the paint. I was almost afraid to sit on the bed for fear of getting the comforter dirty, but then decided what the hell and fell back onto the middle of it.

  Over my head the ceiling fan whirled around and around at a slow, hypnotic pace. I watched it for a few moments, lost in thought before remembering why I was upstairs in the first place and got up to change into my suit so I could get some sun before it set.

  On my way downstairs, I remembered what my mother had asked and paused outside Chase’s door, listening for a few seconds. The music was either turned down or off, because I could no longer hear it. All I heard was a sound I never heard – Chase laughing.

  He was genuinely laughing, and not in the sarcastic way he usually did, but a real honest to goodness laugh that said he was actually happy about something. I was shocked. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Chase happy about anything. Okay, well, maybe I had, but it usually involved sarcasm and mocking. This was different.

  I knocked lightly on the door and waited for him to open it, knowing he would have a snarky comment for me when he heard what I was going to ask him. On the other side of the door, I could hear him say ‘hold on’ to whomever he was talking to.

  “Yes,” he said, as the door opened to reveal him wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, his tattoo of a green Celtic cross, prominent on his rib cage. His hair looked disheveled, as if he’d been lying down, but his cheeks looked flushed, like he’d been grinning and laughing for a few minutes. He still had his phone to his ear.

  “Who are you talking to?” I asked, not able to hold back what I really wanted to know. I was curious about who was sparking this uncharacteristic emotion in him.

  “No one,” he said curtly, as he told the person to hold on and muted his cell phone.

  “Fine, whatever. I just wanted to see if you wanted to come to the beach. Keely’s there and I’m heading down now.” I tried to sound as disinterested as possible, like his going or not wouldn’t faze me in the least.

  “What’s this?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Princess Emily asking her druggie brother to hang out with her? Am I hearing this correctly? Is this my reward for rescuing you last night?” He looked at me with an expression just past mocking. “Because if it is, I’m not interested.”

  “Fine, Chase, be like that. I thanked you for helping me last night, but if I knew you were going to hold if over my head forever, I would have told you to fuck off.”

  “Wow, twice in two days,” he said, in reference to my use of the f-word.

  “Fuck you,” I said, cocking my head to the side and raising my eyebrows. “There, that’s three – a new record. Now, if you don’t want to come down to the beach, then don’t. I was just trying to be nice,” I said, turning to walk away. I had no patience for him when he was like this.

  “Of course you were,” he called after me. “You’re just the nicest person I know.”

  I felt my nostrils flare as I walked away from him, his comment driving into my very core. He didn’t buy it, and after the way I’d acted toward him for most our adult lives, he didn’t believe I was nice. Well, good. I was sick of being nice anyway. Hauling off and hitting Ashleigh had been stupid, and I had a sore hand to prove it, but it had been totally worth it. It had felt good to not just stand by and let her get away with the crap she usually got away with. Maybe I needed a new outlook on life. Maybe I needed to stop being so nice.

  Rachel got away with being a bitch. Chase could be an asshole to whomever he chose. Ashleigh got to hit on my boyfriend, and before last night I’d never said a word to her about it. I’d just laughed. Ha, ha. Well, I wasn’t laughing now.

  Nice. The word sounded like nails on a chalkboard to me. I was over being nice. What did I gain from it? Not much. I got walked on a lot of the time. Much more was expected of me. Half the time, I justified that being nice was better in the long run, but it usually made me feel like crap in the short term. Blah. Being nice sucked. I wanted to be bad for once in my life. I just wasn’t sure how to even go about doing that.

  I dropped into the chair next to Keely and stared out toward the ocean, contemplating something that would be bad enough that it would break my stigma of ‘nice girl’. No one knew me in the small beach town that would be my home for the next two months. I could be whomever I wanted. Maybe I would be bad.

  “Hey,” Keely said, cheerfully, taking out her ear buds and sticking them in her beach bag. “Took you long enough. You got suckered into talking to Mom, didn’t you?”

  I shot her a glare, something I only every used on Chase.

  “Whoa,” she said, taken aback by the aggression on my face. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I said, sighing and leaning my head back against the chair. “I’m not.”

  And I really wasn’t. It was like all the good energy I’d gained from my morning make-up session with Ben had dissipated, and I was just angry again.

  Chapter Nine

  For the next week I considered myself somewhat of a recluse. It wasn’t like I holed up inside the house or anything. I definitely experienced all that the beach h
ad to offer, but it was more like I’d retreated inside myself. I had my iPod on most of the time, thumbing through my entire collection of songs to find ones that fit my melancholy mood. It made for good therapy and made it easy to not have to engage in an actual conversation with anyone.

  Ben called me every night, and by the following weekend, he was getting under my skin again. I was like every emotion I’d been feeling when I’d thought I lost him was slowly slipping away. All the irritating things he did were now at the forefront and were staring me in the face, mocking me, asking me why I’d been so eager to take him back.

  He kept telling me how much he missed me, how it wasn’t as fun without me around and insisted on rehashing every party he went to, so I wouldn’t miss out on anything. It got to be that every word he said grated on my nerves. He commented once on how quiet I was being, but instead of telling him the truth, I’d just told him it was because I missed him.

  I was a big, fat liar and a chicken-shit.

  I talked to Rachel a few times, but she was just as moody as I was. She said she was missing Michael and was sad that she wouldn’t see him for weeks. They talked regularly, but it wasn’t the same. I half-jokingly offered up Ben as a substitute, which had only earned me a half-hearted ‘ha, ha’ in return.

  I looked for something that I could do to break out of my funk, but I couldn’t think of anything. Then I realized that, ironically, just being in a bad mood had turned the heads of the people I knew best, and that sort of made me smile.

  My mother was the first to bring it up, asking me why I was ‘angry, sullen, and moody’ all of a sudden. She asked me this direct question after I slunk down to the breakfast table on our fifth day at the beach, and I didn’t offer my usual cheery ‘good morning’. In fact, I’d been pretty silent ever since that first day, but she hadn’t said anything, most likely chalking it up to me missing Ben. When my bad mood went on for five days, she got suspicious. Sullen was not something I was known for, so when I refused to smile or engage in conversation with her and Keely, I was pulled aside and asked what was wrong.

 

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