by Anna Rezes
I can’t argue with him. He knows me too well. The car ride is too quiet, though, so my mind keeps drifting back to Patrick. I become more and more angry with myself and my complete lack of control over my thoughts.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ben finally asks when we pull into the theater parking lot.
“About what?”
He glances my way. “About whatever you’ve been mulling over for the last twenty minutes.”
“Umm, no.” I’m surprised it’s that obvious. Maybe I’m like Morgan in the way I can’t hide what I’m thinking.
“K, just thought I’d give you the option.”
I do want to talk about it. I just don’t know what to say without sounding pathetic. He pulls into a parking space and before he can bring it up again, I jump out of the car and start walking toward the theater. He hurries to catch up with me.
“What are we gonna see?” I finally think to ask.
“I guess we’ll see whatever’s playing at eight.”
We find a comedy that’s starting soon and buy tickets. Before going into the theater, Ben stops for popcorn. The evening is better than I anticipated. Ben is still just one of the guys, no weirdness. I’ve missed my guys. I wish they all could’ve been here, even Alec with his vulgar language and severely inappropriate sense of humor.
When we walk out of the theater, the sky is dark, but warm air lingers from the afternoon sun. A cool breeze tickles my skin and spreads goosebumps down my arms.
“Emily!” A voice calls from across the parking lot. We turn to look.
Ben squints through the dark. “Is that Morgan?”
“I think it is.” We start walking in her direction. “I ran into her on campus today. She just moved back from Florida.” I was so preoccupied with Patrick that I forgot to mention Morgan being back.
“That’s cool.”
“She . . . um . . .” The blood drains from my face and I come to a halt as I recognize the unmistakable man walking next to Morgan. Patrick is cool and confident as he strides toward us wearing a smug smile.
Ben turns to check on me, following my gaze, he asks, “Do you know him?”
“Sort of,” I answer, “Morgan introduced us today.”
“Ben?” Morgan calls, as she approaches.
Ben turns and throws his arms around Morgan in a bear hug. Patrick is a few steps behind, so I keep my distance. When Ben and Morgan step back from their embrace, Ben scrutinizes Patrick.
Patrick offers his hand to Ben. “Hi, I’m Patrick, Morgan’s cousin.”
Ben looks reluctant as he takes Patrick’s hand. “Ben,” he offers in response.
Morgan looks from Ben to me and raises an eyebrow. I sense an awkward moment coming so before she asks aloud, I rush to clear the air.
“Ben is really into romantic comedies these days. He couldn’t talk the other guys into coming, so here I am. What are you guys seeing?”
“We were just on our way to catch the new Marvel movie,” Morgan says. “What are Alec and Gavin up to these days?”
I feel a pang of guilt and exchange a look with Ben before answering, “Um.”
Ben laughs, taking me by surprise. “Gavin finally got the balls to tell her.”
“Oh!” Morgan understands immediately and shakes her head.
“It didn’t end well,” Ben mumbles under his breath.
I lower my head in shame.
“Emily,” Morgan soothes. “It’s not your problem. I told Gavin it would be over if he told you. It’s his fault, not yours. You can’t help how you feel.”
And maybe that would’ve been true if I didn’t try to force it and break up with him on his birthday. My embarrassment keeps me silent.
Ben breaks the awkward silence. “I know you guys have a movie to catch, but we’ll have to hang out soon.”
I look up straight into the eyes of the enemy, but unlike earlier, Patrick’s overwhelming blue gaze now fills me with a strange sense of calm. Something is different about him. His whole face is softer, gentler somehow. I choose to stare at him knowing I can look away this time. He’s almost a complete stranger, yet something about him is strangely familiar, almost comforting.
Morgan is talking to Ben, saying, “My family is having a cookout on the fourth. I invited Emily earlier. Ben, you should come too.”
“Emily,” a deep voice whispers just inside my ear. It’s the same voice from earlier. Patrick’s lips aren’t moving, and Ben just opened his mouth to answer Morgan.
He says, “We’re going on vacation next week. We won’t be back until Friday.”
“Sweet, naive Emily,” the voice in my head murmurs.
I turn in a circle searching for the source of the words. No one is there. It’s evident no one else is hearing what I’m hearing, probably because I’m going mental. My panic must be apparent because Patrick is giving me a strange look like he’s wondering what I’m doing. Geez, I’m wondering what I’m doing, too.
“It’s okay, love,” the voice whispers in my ear.
My mom was almost thirty before she started hearing voices and seeing things. If I’m going nuts, is this it?
As if I didn’t have enough proof, the woman I thought I hit with my car appears behind Patrick. She’s wearing regular clothes this time, but her hair is still a frizzy mess. She speaks, and her voice resonates inside my head, “Bred to be orphaned, pursued but not found. The weak build the strong to find light underground. Rising from nothing to fight for a cause. A victim, a killer, an innocent one.”
Patrick turns to look behind him. Seeing nothing, he spins back with a look of concern. The woman fades away, and I blink, shaking my head. I knew it might happen someday, but I’m not even eighteen. Morgan says something to Ben, but I don’t hear it. The two exchange another hug. Morgan touches my shoulder before she and Patrick walk away. Did they say goodbye?
“Bye,” I whisper too late.
It takes me a moment to recognize Ben just said something to me.
My eyes jerk to him. “What?”
“You okay?” he repeats, taking in my expression. “What’s wrong?”
Exhaling the breath I didn’t know I was holding; I realize there are no words to explain.
“Do you need to sit down?” Ben asks, placing a hand on my back. “Are you having a panic attack?”
I can’t breathe. I’m hearing voices! I’m going crazy, and I’m terrified.
“Emily, why don’t you sit down.”
“What? No. I’m fine. It’s . . . nothing. I’m . . . I’m tired.”
It’s a blatant lie, but he doesn’t question me. He simply buries his hands in his front pockets and we head back to the car.
We drive in silence for about ten minutes before he tries again. “You know you can talk to me, right? If it was a panic attack, it’s nothing to—”
“It wasn’t a panic attack!”
“Then what happened? Was it her cousin that put you in a bad mood?”
“I’m not in a bad mood!”
“Really?”
I stay silent.
“Is he what was bothering you earlier?” he asks.
“No.”
“Okay, so what did he do?”
“What? He didn’t do anything. It’s not about him.” This time I’m not lying. No longer am I thinking about the mysterious guy I’ve wished I could get out of my head. Wish granted! Now all I can think about are the voices in my head. This wasn’t how I saw things going. I’ll be committed to a psychiatric hospital by eighteen—if I make it to my birthday.
Ben groans.
“What?” I ask, turning to him. I look at him for the first time since we got in the car. His knuckles are tight on the steering wheel, and he looks miserable. I forget my question and ignore my problems to focus on Ben. I hate seeing him like this.
“Ben?” I reach a hand out to touch him.
Jaw tightly clenched, he shakes his head without diverting his eyes from the road ahead.
I pull my hand back. “
Ben, what’s wrong?”
His eyes lock on the road ahead of us, but I see his bewildered anger. “Are you serious, Emily! You are blind!” His voice is too loud in the small car, and I know his leg would be bouncing if he wasn’t driving.
“What are you talking about?” I say with a shaky voice.
Ben throws his head back on the headrest and continues to stare at the road. I don’t know what to expect. There could be another outburst, but that’s not like him. He pulls the car over to the side of the road. He still won’t look at me. I keep waiting for him to say something. The minutes tick by. Just as I am about to speak, he turns to me.
“Emily, it’s like this big part of you died with your mom. I saw what you went through when she was committed. Even though you’ll never admit it, I know you’re still mad at your dad for hospitalizing you after her death. I’ve defended you when the assholes at school talked shit. That suspension my junior year was because Michael and Duncan wrote that shit on your locker. They were laughing about it! I couldn’t let them keep laughing. I ditched Gavin and Alec to hang out with you tonight because . . . because it’s you, it’ll always be you. I won’t go off to school and leave you behind.” His eyes lift to mine slowly like he’s afraid to see my reaction. “I can’t give up on you, which makes no sense because you can’t even be honest with me.”
I’m in shock. My whole body hurts from his words. A sharp, familiar stab of ice trickles down my spine. When I realize I’m not breathing, I force myself to inhale. Then my mind goes numb, rejecting the pain as my brain kicks into autopilot.
I jerk the door handle, and I’m out of the car in an instant. I’m walking down the country road without direction. It isn’t long before he is catching up to me. He steps in front of me grabbing my shoulders. “Where are you going?”
I push his hands off and brush past him. “Go Away!”
“Emily, I’m not leaving you out here.”
“Stop following me!”
“Then stop!” he pleads.
“I can’t!” My anger keeps me walking. Being my friend has cost him way too much. Why didn’t he walk away years ago or at the very least after graduation? That would have been a clean break. I never meant to be a burden. Why would he think he can’t leave me? I swing around to face him.
“At least let me take you back to your car,” he begs, looking exhausted. “We don’t have to talk.”
“You have feelings for me!” I brush the windblown hair from my face. “Why? Why me?” He stays silent, so I continue, “You know more than enough to be frightened away, but I never asked anything of you. You’re one of my only friends, Ben. I never wanted you to suffer because of me. I never wanted to be a burden. Why didn’t you just walk away?”
His expression turns to anguish as he averts his eyes. Too afraid to hear his answer, I head back to the car.
“Wait, Emily,” he pleads, and I turn toward him. His face is tortured by what he doesn’t want to say, “I couldn’t walk away, just like I can’t walk away now.” He reaches out as if to touch me but thinks better of it. “You’re not a burden. I’ve known you for thirteen years. I know where you’ve come from, so I know you’ve spent most of your life shutting people out. Sometimes I think you’re screaming inside, waiting for it to be over.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Then in almost a whisper, he continues, “I never said anything before because I didn’t want to lose you. You’re always so ready to run, and I didn’t want to give you a reason.”
I can’t breathe. I feel so raw, and my body trembles. Ben sees me for what I am. Damaged! Why would anyone want to hold onto that?
“I don’t run from everything,” I defend.
“You’re running away from me right now. Whenever things get hard you either run or—”
“WHEN THINGS GET HARD!” I explode. “When has it ever been easy, Ben?”
“This, Emily.” He motions between us. “This is easy. You just don’t let anyone close enough. Not since your mom . . .”
I look down, but he raises my chin and our eyes lock. “I’m not Gavin.”
“Exactly, Ben. You’re not Gavin. You’re . . . it’s you.” I stare at him, hoping he can grasp what I mean.
“I’m your friend no matter what,” he continues.
“Maybe guys and girls can’t be friends,” I think aloud, my voice shaking.
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him. I let it happen. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to lean into him. It feels so good to be in his arms, but it’s going to hurt that much more when he’s not there—when he realizes I am too much, and he can’t be burdened by me anymore. I witnessed it with my parents. I watched my dad hold on to a broken woman for so long it nearly destroyed him. But for right now, at this moment, I shut out the ugly image and wrap my arms around him, savoring the feeling of us holding each other.
As we linger in our embrace, he says, “Nothing will change how I feel about you, Em.”
I smile into his shoulder and say, “Okay, Ben. Let’s go home.”
We walk shoulder to shoulder back to the car.
Ben says, “I don’t want you to feel awkward around me. I know you think of me like a brother.”
“I don’t. I mean . . . I thought you understood. Alec and Gavin are like annoying brothers who I like despite their flaws, but you . . . you and I are good together and I . . . I can’t risk losing you, not again . . . friends?”
“Friends,” he promises.
In my head, I continue my thoughts. And when you realize I’m too great a burden, I will absolve you of your promise and walk away a better person having known you.
six
On my way to work the next day, I find myself obsessing over Ben. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since he dropped me off at my car last night. He agreed we were still friends, but I’m not sure about anything anymore.
I think about calling him but drop the idea. Haven’t I screwed up enough of his life? I teased him when he got suspended for fighting. I had no idea it was because of me. How stupid of him. How utterly ridiculous, senseless, macho, and . . . well, sweet. Maybe we don’t need to go back to being friends. Perhaps we can be more.
“No,” I say aloud. I can’t allow my mind to wander down the path of what-ifs. I won’t be responsible for destroying him. I heard voices yesterday, and it’s just a matter of time before my life unravels, ruining everything in its wake. I should distance myself now so no one will mourn my loss once my dad is forced to commit me for good this time.
The pet supply store is busy when I arrive, so I’m safe from Ashley’s questions, at least for a little while. At first, I think she may have forgotten about Ben. Of course, that’s not the case.
“So,” she says in a leading voice when she gets a break between customers. “Tell me everything.” I give her a tired look, and she huffs, “Come on. My week has been awful! Give me some good news.”
“It’s not good news.”
“What?” she shrieks.
“I don’t know if he’ll want to see me anymore.”
“What? Why? What did you do?”
“Nothing, but he’s too good for me, Ashley.”
Her eyes are wide with outrage. “Did he say that?”
“No, but it’s the truth,” I say, turning to walk away.
I open my eyes in a fog, unable to figure out what’s beeping. I look at my alarm, baffled for a moment before I remember how to turn it off. It’s only eight o’clock.
“Oh no!” I let my head plummet back to the pillow. I have bridesmaid shopping this morning. I roll out of my warm, cozy bed and my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. I hate this day already.
I take a shower, making sure to shave my legs. I stand in front of my closet far too long, as my search for something to wear takes forever. The light pink summer dress I’ve only worn once will do the trick. I dig through the pile of shoes at the bottom of the closet and find a pair of pink flats that look dressy enough. Crap, I should’ve painted my
nails.
Digging through bathroom drawers that used to belong to my sister, I find soft pink nail polish. Applying the polish, I fumble like a two-year-old trying to color inside the lines. I remove the smudged polish, but the cotton ball sticks to my nail and smears the paint. I wipe the entire nail and start over. I do this four times before I realize I’ll be late if I continue. I leave the smeared polish and rush to apply makeup and straighten my hair.
Somehow, I manage to arrive at the dress store a few minutes early. Parked a few spaces down is a black Mercedes which means Judy and her daughter, Leah, my high school bully, are here. I don’t want to spend any more time with Leah than I have to, so I wait in my car pretending to be busy.
At ten o’clock sharp Judy and Leah walk into the store and two minutes later my sister and Rochelle pull into the parking lot. Sam looks stressed as we say our hellos and make our way inside to meet up with Judy and Leah. It is just as uncomfortable as I imagined. My sister is unaware of the burning hatred Leah and I have for each other, and I plan to keep it that way.
Monica, the same woman Samantha bought her wedding dress from is helping us again today. Once we have our dresses selected, Monica leads us back to the fitting rooms. We take turns trying on different colors and styles. I’m relieved to be sharing a dressing room with Rochelle instead of Leah. Alison, another bridesmaid, arrives as we step onto pedestals to model our dresses. Alison is loud and bossy for such a petite girl, and she immediately begins ordering us around like she’s running the show.
My sister and Alison have Monica standing on her head by the time they narrow the dresses down to three options. I’m not a fan of any of them, but I am happy the dress will be a simple, classic black. I smile and pretend to like them all.
I stand on the pedestal wearing a floor-length gown with a plunging halter, while Leah is in a super short strapless and Rochelle is wearing a knee-length with ruffles and sequins. My sister, Judy, and Alison are staring between the three of us.
“Emily, your boobs look fantastic in that one!” Sam announces, gesturing to my cleavage. It makes me want to hide in the dressing room. Instead, I plaster on a smile and stay put.
