So Over It

by Stephanie Morrill

  “Did you know?”

  He righted the table. “Not until I got home last night.”

  Little boys ran between us, screaming for no apparent reason.

  “No running around the pool!” Amy called after them, and Curtis, the leader in his pointy “I’m 6 today!” hat, veered toward the swing set.

  “Hey, babe, the grill’s ready whenever you are,” Brian said to Amy.

  “Okay.” She turned to Connor and me. “Would you two do me a huge favor? Inside, on the counter, are plates of hot dogs and hamburger patties. Could you bring those out, please?”

  As we headed in, Abbie and Chris came out. Abbie looked totally normal. And not like she was trying to look normal, the way you sometimes do when you know you’ll see your ex for the first time. She wore regular clothes, a blousy shirt of mine—did I say she could borrow that?—and Bermuda shorts. Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, her makeup looked natural, and her smile looked normal. Not forced. Not heartbroken. Nothing to indicate she stood beside her first love, whom she’d broken up with the day before.

  “Oh, hey, guys.” Abbie smiled. “What’s going on?”

  I caught Chris’s surprised expression before he masked it. So I wasn’t the only one caught off guard by how “okay” Abbie seemed.

  “We’re getting the food,” Connor said.

  “We’ll help.” Abbie turned and trotted off toward the kitchen.

  The bounce of her ponytail really freaked me out.

  I didn’t get a chance to ask Abbie about Chris until we’d eaten lunch, cake had been served, and everyone else was occupied by Curtis ripping into his gifts.

  “Amy said you and Chris broke up,” I said.

  Abbie swallowed a healthy bite of cake. “That’s not exactly what happened.”

  Now that made sense. There’d obviously been a misunderstanding. “So, what happened?”

  “He flat out dumped me.”

  I struggled to keep my voice low. “What? How could you not tell me?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know how. I didn’t want you to be mad at him.”

  “Well, too bad.” I narrowed my eyes at Chris, who was preoccupied with Curtis.

  Abbie gave me a look. “Skylar.”

  “Walk me through it,” I said. “What happened?”

  Abbie sighed. “He stopped by school to have lunch with me. I walked him out to his car, or Connor’s car, I guess. I said, ‘I love you,’ and he said, ‘I don’t think we should see each other anymore.’” She frowned. “Or maybe he said, ‘We shouldn’t see each other anymore.’ I can’t remember.”

  I studied her. “What aren’t you telling me? Because I’m not getting it. We’re talking about Chris. He’s pined for you since the day you met. He calls all the time. He’s been nothing but supportive about Owen. So what aren’t you telling me?”

  “You know everything.” Abbie took another large bite of cake. “Look, don’t be mad, okay? We always had some idea this might happen.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Then you’re stupid,” she said, her voice sharp. “I’ve got a baby. Not even his father’s sticking around.”

  I hesitated and glanced at Connor. He offered me a tight smile, as if he could guess what our conversation centered on. “Maybe this is one of those self-fulfilling prophesies. Like you expected Chris to fail you, so now he has.”

  “He didn’t ‘fail’ me. We broke up, that’s it. If we’d been able to date from the get-go, it probably would’ve happened before now.” Abbie picked around her last bits of cake. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

  “I just don’t understand why you’re not more upset. I mean—”

  Abbie turned to me, and for the first time I noticed her exhaustion. The normal signs were there—the gray smudges beneath her red-veined eyes—but she had a general droopiness to her. Like Mom’s houseplants when she forgot to water them.

  “I just don’t have time or energy to be upset, Skylar. I’ve got school. I’ve got a baby who hasn’t gotten the memo that nighttime is sleepy time. I can’t indulge in being sad. And even if I could, I—” She drew her vibrating cell phone from her back pocket. “Hello? . . . Yeah, I can hear he is. I’ll be right there.”

  She shoveled in her last bite of cake as she stood. “I guess Owen woke up from his nap two minutes after I left and hasn’t stopped crying since. I gotta get home.”

  I followed her across the backyard. “Here.” I handed her my keys. “I can walk.”

  “You sure you don’t mind? Because technically I’m only allowed to drive to school and work.”

  “It’s like two minutes away. I’m not worried.”

  “Thanks.” She slid open the door to the house. “Hopefully in a couple days, I’ll have a car of my own and won’t have to borrow yours.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Abbie grinned. “Stop it. Give me a hint. Is it nicer than yours?”

  “Actually, they’re giving you mine and I’m getting a new car.”

  “Tell them nothing flashy, okay? Nothing red or yellow. Anything black’s fine.”

  “Guess we’ll see.”

  Abbie paused at the front door and glanced back where we’d come from. “Tell everyone sorry.”

  “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  She walked backward down the manicured walkway. “You home tonight?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “All right. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” At the blind corner, Abbie collided with a guy coming up the walkway. She looked up at him and giggled. “Sorry.”

  “No problem,” he said as Abbie disappeared around the corner with a wave to me.

  The sound of his voice made my heart quicken, though I didn’t know why until he came closer. I froze in the open doorway. I wanted to yell for Abbie but found myself unable to.

  He smiled. A nice, normal smile. If I’d seen him at the mall or something and not known who he was, I’d have smiled back.

  “The party still going on?” he asked.

  I nodded—amazing I could even manage that.

  “Okay if I come in? I’m here to pick up Zoe.”

  I must have looked at least partially as hostile as I felt because he cocked his head at me. “I’m Aaron Robinson. I’m her uncle.”

  16

  I’d had many dreams—make that nightmares—about coming face-to-face with Aaron. I’d never imagined it taking place at a six-year-old’s birthday party. His eye was bruised, presumably from Eli, but otherwise he looked exactly as I remembered.

  I stumbled backward a few steps, admitting him into the Rosses’ home. My sanctuary.

  He sauntered inside. “Sorry, it didn’t occur to me that it’d look weird having someone besides Jen picking her up. Guess you gotta be careful about those things these days.”

  “Everyone’s out back,” I said, my voice wooden. “They’re just about done.”

  “Cool.” Aaron gestured for me to lead the way.

  I wanted to sprint outside, to Connor, to anyone safe. I forced my feet to walk at a normal pace.

  “Nice place.” He gave the huge TV a particular look. “It’s your little brother’s birthday?”

  Tears burned behind my eyes, and I fought to breathe normally. How could he not know me? After what he’d done? After how he’d completely derailed my life?

  Connor stood in the threshold of the open glass door. “There you are.” He noticed my escort. “Hey. Who you here for?”

  “Zoe.”

  “I don’t know if she’s gonna want to leave.” Connor grinned—I hated him for it. “She’s gotten pretty attached to Curtis’s water gun.”

  Aaron rolled his dark eyes and stepped into the bright sunlight. He didn’t belong in the daytime. He belonged in the cover of dark.

  It’d been almost exactly a year, but I could still see him in my mind’s eye. Plain black T-shirt, tight around his thick arms. His dark curls smelling of expensive gel. Light rinse jeans, fraye
d at the cuffs. Leather flip-flops.

  “You know, I’ve been watching you the last couple weeks,” he’d said, sidling up to me.

  I exhaled cigarette smoke. “Oh yeah?” My voice sounded liquid smooth. You’d never have guessed my heart hammered at the sight of the dark, handsome guy talking to me.

  “You’re friends with those girls, right?” With his red plastic cup he gestured to Alexis and Jodi, who danced on Jodi’s couch, their long hair flying.

  “Yeah.”

  “Weird. You seem so much older than them.” He sipped at his beer and evaluated me. “There’s definitely something different about you.”

  I shrugged, so flattered it took all my energy to beat back a smile. “Maybe.”

  “You know what else I’ve noticed?” He inched closer. “Wherever you are, he is too.” He nodded slightly, and I looked. Eli—of course. He stood in the Starrs’ kitchen, chatting with a blonde girl anyone could tell he wasn’t interested in. He kept looking past her to where I stood.

  I shrugged again. “That’s a friend of mine.”

  “Hmm.” A few centimeters closer. “So I’m not gonna step on any toes if I get you a drink?”

  I shook my head slightly, and he brushed against me. “Be right back,” he said.

  And I’d hoped he would hurry.

  “Skylar,” a voice chirped.

  I blinked in the bright rays of sunshine. I didn’t remember walking outside. I glanced around, head swirling as I fought to grab hold of my bearings. Aaron was nowhere to be seen, which sent a shiver through me. Connor pushed colorful wrapping paper into a large trash bag, and the kids ran wild again.

  Cameron danced in front of me. “Hello?”

  Beyond him, I spotted Aaron. He stood at the entrance of the moon bounce, talking to an obstructed kid. Zoe, I assumed.

  “Skylar! Hello?” Cameron yelped.

  Another shiver zipped up my spine as Aaron turned toward us. Recognition dawned on his face, although it didn’t seem to bring with it the horror I’d felt at seeing him.

  I looked at the little boy hopping in front of me.

  “Where’s Abbie?” Cameron asked. He bounced from one foot to the other, appearing incapable of standing still.

  I couldn’t remember. I just stared at him.

  “She had to go,” someone answered for me, and I turned to find Chris standing behind me.

  “Okay.” Cameron scurried off, apparently satisfied.

  I blinked at Chris, silhouetted by the sun.

  His breathing sounded funny. Sharp. “I’m waiting.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to let me have it.”

  I blinked at him some more. “Have what?”

  “Have ‘it.’ You know. Yell at me.”

  “Yell at you?” I recognized his breathing now—he did that when he got nervous. “I’m not gonna yell at you.”

  “Really?” His forehead wrinkled deeply. I’d noticed Amy’s doing the same thing when puzzled. “I thought . . .” He shook his head. “I really thought I had it coming.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but someone tapped my shoulder.

  I turned and found myself within inches of Aaron Robinson. He was the opposite of silhouetted—the sun exposed every pore of his face, every swirl of his nasty bruise. I had to give it to Eli, he’d clocked him.

  “Now I know where I know you from,” he said, grinning. Why would he grin if he actually remembered me? “Didn’t we meet at a party last summer?”

  “I don’t know.” My voice sounded hollow, dead.

  “Yeah, at that big stone house on Shawnee Mission Parkway. I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you. But how many Skylars are there running around in the world?” He smiled, the same smile that’d haunted me all year.

  “You’re wrong,” I heard myself say. “We’ve never met.”

  He seemed amused. “No, we’ve met. I’m sure of it. I guess I didn’t make as big of an impression on you as you did me.” Could he be more wrong?

  “You left with another guy.” Aaron looked almost sheepish. “I was devastated.”

  I snorted. “I’m sure you were.”

  “Well, I just thought I’d say hi. Hey, you seeing anyone now?” He chuckled. Was Aaron Robinson seriously joking around with me? Something new crossed his face, a flicker, and he absently grazed his bruised eye. “Hey, do you know anything about a blond guy who—”

  I pointed across the yard to where Zoe—the heinous brat—tortured Curtis with his own water gun. “That kid is like my little brother and your niece is being rude. Please go get her.”

  I turned away from Aaron’s confused face, pushed past Chris, and stormed inside. I didn’t slow down until I reached Connor’s bedroom. With the door closed behind me, I started shaking. And shaking. My legs could no longer hold me, and I collapsed to the floor. There I shook and shook, reliving every word downstairs.

  How dare he not know.

  How dare he not be consumed by that night like I’d been.

  My fingernails bit into the tender skin of my palms. How was it possible? How could I have suffered so much while he stayed clueless, unaffected?

  Laughter reached me, and I crawled to Connor’s bedroom window. When I pushed aside the blinds, I saw Aaron and Zoe. He held her hand, and she skipped beside him, giggling. This was my attacker? A guy who picked up his niece from a kid’s party?

  Could I somehow have been wrong about Aaron? As he helped Zoe into the car, I drew away from the window and sat with my back pressed against the wall. My memories of Jodi’s party were fuzzy—especially when it came to what happened after we went upstairs. Maybe I’d been told wrong. Maybe Eli made everything up just to guilt me into dating him. Maybe—

  “There you are.” I turned to see Connor standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with concern.

  “Hey.” My voice sounded like a little girl’s.

  He crossed the room and crouched beside me. “What’s going on?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  Connor misinterpreted. “It’s not nothing. Chris said you and that guy . . .” He shrugged. “That there was some kind of history.”

  “That”—my throat constricted—“was Aaron.”

  Connor blinked as he processed this. “That was Aaron?” His hands raked through his hair. “You were alone with him inside. And . . .” He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “And I just abandoned you out back. Skylar, I’m so sorry.” He took my hands between his and squeezed. “I never would’ve done that if I knew. You should’ve sent me a signal or something.”

  “I know, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize. No apologizing. If anybody apologizes, it’s me. Or him.” Connor’s face hardened. “Is he still here? I want him out of the house—”

  “He left already.” I thought of Zoe prancing alongside him as they walked toward the car.

  “Good.” But his face didn’t relax. Neither did his grip.

  “Connor, you’re squeezing my hands kinda hard.”

  He eased up. “Sorry. I was fantasizing about the next time I run into him. Boy, I’d like to shake the hand of whoever gave him that black eye.”

  “Eli.”

  His eyes widened. “Eli did that? When?”

  “A couple nights ago. He ran into Aaron at a party, and . . .” I shrugged. “Well, you saw.”

  Connor’s gaze flicked up and down my face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He’s not exactly my favorite subject.” I picked at the jagged hem of my shirt. I’d been so excited to wear my new outfit, and now it’d been tainted. Same as the clothes I’d worn last July 14. I’d buried them in the garage trash, convinced I could smell the stink of Aaron’s cologne in their fibers.

  He’d leaned close, his face hovering before mine. “Let’s find someplace a little more quiet.”

  “What just happened?” Connor asked. “You went somewhere else for a seco
nd.”

  “No.”

  “You did. You were here with me, then your eyes glazed over until I spoke. Is it Aaron?”

  I shuddered at his name. “Sometimes I remember things from that night. I can’t seem to shut it out completely.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

  “I just want it to go away,” I whispered.

  A gentle knock sounded against Connor’s door, then Amy pushed it open. “Hey, guys, this door needs to be completely open when you’re up here.”

  “Sorry, Mom,” Connor said.

  “Sorry,” I echoed. Guilt bit at me, even though it was obvious we hadn’t been doing anything. Connor sat across from me. Only our fingers touched.

  Amy took a step away, then hesitated. She looked between us. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said as Connor said, “No.”

  We looked at each other, then Connor said, “Or at least, we’re working on it.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated again. “Holler if you need me.”

  I sighed as we heard her walk downstairs. “I love your mom.”

  “You want to talk to her about this?” Connor asked. “I’m sure she’d—”

  “No.”

  “But I bet she’d—”

  “No.”

  Now he sighed. “Okay. What about me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, how about talking to me about it?”

  I squirmed. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just . . .” I looked at him, wonderful, innocent Connor. I didn’t want to shed any more light on who I used to be. I wanted to close the book on her and move on. Why couldn’t I? Why should I be forced to remember everything? Maybe there was a reason I couldn’t. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to remember.

  I looked at our entwined fingers rather than his face. “I don’t want to dredge up everything. I don’t want to be forced back there.”

  “But maybe”—he touched my fingers to his mouth—“it’s the only way you’ll be free to move forward.”

  17

  “Surprise!” Dad whipped the blindfold off Abbie.