by Anna Rezes
“Hey,” Ben says.
“Hey.” Emily stares at him with bloodshot eyes and feeble distrust in her gaze. She looks frail and apprehensive about his presence.
“I heard they can’t get a hold of your dad.”
“Word travels fast,” she says, wiping away another tear as it falls.
Ben looks to his feet. “I didn’t want you to have to sit in here alone,” he explains, remembering all the times he’d been alone, the times he needed his parents and they weren’t there, how he waited for someone to show up and tell him everything would be okay, but it never happened. No one ever came.
“I’m sure the nurse will be back soon. She just went to call my dad again.”
“Are you hurt?” Ben asks.
“I’m fine. They’re just being stupid!”
“Should I leave?” he asks, seeing a glimpse of desperation before she pulls her poker face back together.
“Go ahead, leave. I’m fine!”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Ben counters.
“You’re an idiot!”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“I don’t need help! I need to go home!” Unable to choke down her tears anymore, she looks pitiful. Her face plummets into her hands and she falls to pieces in front of him. Ben doesn’t flinch at the uncomfortable sight of her raw and broken. He doesn’t see her as pathetic like she sees herself.
“Go away,” Emily snivels between tears.
Unfazed by her words, Ben sits down in the chair across from her as wet puffy eyes peer up at him.
He stays with her in silence for a few minutes until the nurse comes back and shoos him away. Even as the nurse escorts him out into the hall, he stares at Emily, ignoring the scolding he’s receiving. Emily doesn’t say anything, but she looks sad to see him go.
An hour passes without another Emily sighting. Ben stands facing his locker, dreading going to lunch because he knows the guys will be rehashing what happened to that freak, Emily. He rearranges his books to put off going to the cafeteria. The halls empty and eventually the bell rings. He closes his locker and turns to head to the lunch room, but Emily is standing there. He’s surprised and delighted by her presence. She’s no longer crying; instead, she’s wearing a shy smile.
“Thank you,” she says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ben smiles, knowing exactly what she’s referring to.
“Are you going to lunch?”
He shrugs. “I’m supposed to.”
“Skip it and come with me!” She grabs his hand, turning to lead the way.
Ben’s anticipation builds as she leads him through the halls. Her touch is causing his thirteen-year-old mind to conjure naughty thoughts. She guides him to the basement where they reach an old door. She pulls a bobby pin from her pocket and fidgets with the lock until it snaps open.
“It’s a trick I learned from my mom,” she says, with a playful smile.
Ben is excited as he follows her through the door into the construction site where the school is being renovated. She takes his hand and they jog through the narrow halls scattered with tools but absent of workers. Ascending a narrow stairway, they pass decrepit windows at each landing. When they reach the top floor, they climb onto the wide ledge of a windowsill. Light pours in through the timeworn window and pools around them as they gaze out at the afternoon sun.
“Why were you so nice to me?” she asks, drawing his attention back to her.
“Do you remember last year when my mom went to rehab?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Oh,” he says, surprised she doesn’t remember. “I was supposed to walk to the bus stop, but I walked to the park instead, missing the bus, so I didn’t have to hear it from the guys at school. You saw me hiding like a coward and you came and sat with me. You made me laugh when I didn’t think it was possible. I kinda thought it’d be cool if I could do that for you.”
“You’re not like the other guys at this school.”
“And you’re nothing like the other girls.”
“I meant that as a compliment,” she insists.
“So did I.”
“I like you,” Emily says, just before she leans forward to plant a kiss right on Ben’s perfect lips.
The picture shifts again. Ben watches from his desk as his teacher opens the classroom door. Another teacher enters, and the adults whisper together before calling Emily somberly to the door. She gives Ben a nervous look as she heads out into the hall. She disappears as the door closes behind her, but the chattering whispers in the room have already begun.
The scene skips ahead to Ben standing at the front door of my house. Dad opens the door and tells him I’m not home and will not be receiving visitors any time soon. It doesn’t stop Ben from coming back for the next two weeks, even though he’s turned away or ignored every time.
Ben sits in class listening numbly to the rumors that have traveled the entire school. He knows my mom killed herself. She stabbed herself through the heart with a knife. At least that’s the rumor, and now crazy Emily Burk is locked up in the loony bin just like her mother had been. He’s pissed because he’s not allowed to see me and frustrated that all he has to go on are rumors and gossip.
Weeks go by before Ben sees Emily walk into the classroom. He barely recognizes her. She’s a walking shell of the person she used to be as if her spirit was crushed beneath the weight of burdens too heavy for a child to carry. Her eyes are grey and empty. Whispers buzz around the room like an annoying swarm of flies, multiplying faster than they can be killed. As Emily takes her seat, the classroom goes dark.
I feel myself lingering somewhere in limbo before finding my way out of the dream; at least it started as a dream. I know what I saw were Ben’s memories, memories that should be my own. It’s disorienting being in someone else’s mind and I struggle to disconnect the accidental mental connection. I open my eyes and Ben’s dark room unfolds before me. I wiggle away from him and sit up. The clock tells me it’s seven in the morning. I should go back to sleep, but I feel eerie after witnessing Ben’s recollection of events.
Ben was my first kiss! All these years spent as friends when he knew this all along. I kissed him, which is something I should have remembered, yet the memory remains absent from my mind. How many fractions of my life do I have yet to uncover?
I miss the girl I used to be. Ben fell in love with that girl and has been trying to hold on to her ever since. I watch him, peaceful as he sleeps. Things could’ve been so different if everything hadn’t gone so wrong—if I didn’t belong to a bloodline that’s facing extinction.
I climb out of bed and shut myself in the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, I stare at myself in the mirror. It’s weird to see the transformation between my twelve-year-old self and my current reflection. My brilliant emerald eyes show none of the grief I feel, yet they define me. I am Valla’s descendant, hunted because they fear I may inflict misery and destruction on everyone around me.
I undress and climb in the shower, hoping to wash away the depressing thoughts. By the time I finish, my fingers are pruned, and every glass surface is foggy. I dry off and get dressed before leaving the bathroom with damp hair.
Ben is sitting up in bed as I walk into his room.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says sleepily.
“Did I wake you?”
He shakes his head with a yawn and shows me my phone. “Your dad called.” He yawns again. “Why are you up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” I say, setting my bag down and walking toward him. “I should’ve taken my phone with me. Did you answer?”
“No, I thought he’d be suspicious if I did.”
“Good call,” I say, as I take my phone and see three missed calls. “Sorry to wake you. I’ll go to the bathroom to call him back. You go back to sleep.”
“You can call him out here,” Ben says, placing a hand on my arm. “Do you want breakfast?” He crawls out of bed looking tempting
in only his gym shorts.
“I’m not really a breakfast person,” I mumble, trying not to stare.
“It’s the most important meal of the day.”
I try not to be so distracted by him, but he’s very distracting. Does he know what he’s doing to me? He comes closer and kisses the top of my head pulling away with a smile.
“Maybe when you’re done talking to your dad, you can catch me up on what I missed while I was gone.”
The phone begins ringing in my hand.
“Go ahead,” Ben says, as he strolls into the bathroom, his sensuality assaulting my senses.
“Hey, Dad. Sorry, I didn’t hear my phone.”
“It’s okay, honey. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way to the airport but won’t be home in time to take you to work. Can you find a ride?”
“No problem, Dad, I’ll find someone.”
“Okay, I’ll see you this evening. Love you, Emily.”
“Love you, Dad.”
When Ben comes out of the bathroom, I’m placing the cushions back on the folded-up sofa bed. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me down beside him on the sofa.
“I didn’t know if you’d still be here in the morning,” he confesses, without looking at me. “I’m happy you’re still here.”
“I’m not going to run away,” I say, “at least not without saying goodbye first.”
“Gotta say, that’s not very comforting, Em.” After a pause, he asks, “Will you tell me what’s going on now?”
I sigh and nuzzle his bare chest. “I don’t know what to say.”
Silence ensues, so he leans forward to pick up the remote. “Another time then,” he says, turning on the television.
I ask, “What about breakfast?”
“I thought you weren’t hungry.”
“Yeah, but you said it was the most important meal. I mean, how can I say no to that? What do the wealthy eat for breakfast anyway? Do you have a hen that lays golden eggs?” I give him a big smile.
He nods. “Of course, but I had that yesterday.”
“Oh, my bad, just have the wait staff bring one of everything,” I say sarcastically.
“Okay,” he says, reaching for his phone.
“Seriously! Do you have your own wait staff? Who are you?”
He looks embarrassed and I know I’m not supposed to talk about his family’s ridiculous wealth, but I’m at a loss. He was raised with everything at his fingertips.
“My parents hired a couple of people to help out, that’s all,” he says, attempting to be nonchalant.
“Help out? What do they do?”
“Cook, clean, you know, normal things. It’s not like they wait on us hand and foot.”
“Normal? Normal would be doing all of those things yourself. Ben, you’re like royalty or something.”
“Let’s just go find some food,” he says, pulling me off the couch. He slips a t-shirt over his head before we exit his room. I’m relieved the family room is empty as we make our way to the kitchenette.
With a smile, I point to the stove and ask, “Do you know what this is?”
“Shut it,” he says. “I’m probably a better cook than you are.”
“You mean you know how to use one of these contraptions. And don’t doubt my skill, I make a mean grilled cheese,” I brag.
“I can whip up some omelets,” he offers, raising an eyebrow and pointing to the stove. “Prove to you I know how to use that shiny thing with the knobs.”
“And go to all that trouble? How about some cereal?”
He opens a cabinet filled with cereal boxes. “You sure you don’t want an omelet?”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with cereal. I wouldn’t want you burning down this palace of yours,” I tease as I grab a box.
“You have no faith in me, Em.”
He places two bowls on the counter, and I pour the cereal while he gets the milk out of the fridge.
I wonder how the overwhelming wealth hasn’t ruined him. He’s still the same Ben that used to spit wads of paper through a straw at his friends when they fell asleep in class. He’s the same guy that got suspended for fighting because he was sticking up for me. He’s the same boy that sat in the nurse’s office with me so I wouldn’t be alone. He’s still Ben, my Ben.
“What?” Ben asks, and I realize I haven’t taken my eyes from him.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and grab the milk. He slides our bowls down the counter and we sit on fancy high stools at the kitchen bar.
“So, why didn’t your parents send you to a private school?” I ask, before digging into my cereal.
He chuckles under his breath. “They tried. Even though our high school was ranked third in the state, I guess they thought it’d look better on my transcript. I dropped out after a week, forged documents from my parents and went back to our school.” He gives a sly grin. “It took my parents four months to realize it. They fired my favorite driver though. I still feel bad about that.”
“Wait, driver, as in chauffeur? You had your own chauffeur?”
“Yeah, it’s not as cool as it sounds. It’s just something my parents did because they have lots of money and no interest in raising children. The next guy they hired was my punishment. He reported directly to my father. Not because Everett gave a shit, but because I made him look bad. So, my new driver would keep tabs on me all the time and inform my father of my whereabouts.
“Eventually, my dad stopped pretending to care, but this guy didn’t. He was military, like my own personal prison guard yelling at me when I’d skip class even though my grades were perfect. He threatened to call the cops if I broke curfew. He even persuaded my parents to hire a tutor to teach me college courses, because he didn’t think school was challenging me. When I got my driver’s license, he was supposed to follow me, but I kept ditching him. Everett fired him too, probably realizing it was a waste of money.”
“I thought that guy who drove you around in the black Lincoln was your dad.”
A bitter laugh escapes him. “No, that was Frank.”
“Sounds like Frank was good for you,” I blurt, thinking Frank sounded like the closest thing to a parental figure Ben has ever had.
His forehead scrunches, and I’m glad he just took a bite so he can’t respond right away.
“Maybe,” he mumbles through a mouth full of cereal.
“Excuse me, sir,” A female voice calls from the other end of the room. Ben and I turn in unison. Standing at the foot of the stairs is a tall young woman in a light pink knee-length dress with white trim. Her straight blond hair just barely brushes the collar of her uniform. Could she be the maid?
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says with a faint accent, her expression guarded. “Your friends are in the garage.”
“Thanks. I’ll be up in a minute,” Ben responds to the life-size Barbie Doll. I feel a hint of jealousy but ignore the irrational thought.
She nods and retreats up the stairs.
“I forgot I told the guys to come over today. We were gonna work on Alec’s Camaro.”
“That’s okay. Go ahead. I have to go to work soon anyway.”
“It’s eight o’clock,” he replies with a smirk. “You don’t work until noon and how exactly are you planning to get to work without me?”
“I’ll call an Uber. It’s no big deal. Why are you guys meeting so early anyway?”
“Forget Uber. I already told you I’d take you. The guys only came this early because I work this afternoon. Don’t worry about it. We’ll reschedule for tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to be the reason you change your plans. And I thought your dad made you quit your job.”
“I’m happy to change my plans. I’d rather spend my morning with you. Everett thinks I’m taking Taekwondo lessons instead of teaching them. I’ll be back in a minute,” he says, walking away.
He disappears through a door, and I sit at the bar alone, feeling incompatible with my surroundings. I don’t have much alone time be
fore another door opens.
“Oh goody, you’re still here,” Molly patronizes.
“Good morning to you too,” I say.
“Yeah, whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Where’s Ben?”
“The garage. Some friends stopped by.”
“Why didn’t you go with him? Are you already tired of each other after just one night?”
“They’re here for Ben, not me.”
“Do you even have friends? Or do you just float from one guy to the next?” she seethes.
“What’s your problem with me?”
“Seriously?” She looks at me in disbelief. “Would you like the list? You’ve had Ben wrapped around your finger for years. You tell him you’re too screwed up to date him and a week later you’re seeing someone else. He was finally done with you! Free to move on and then you call, and he goes running.”
My first reaction is anger, but soon I feel awful because even though it didn’t play out quite like she thinks, I feel like a thief. I stole his heart years ago and have been robbing him of happiness ever since. “I know I’m bad for Ben. I just want so badly to be right for him, to be good for him.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not, and I’m tired of watching you torture him.”
“I’m grateful he has someone to watch out for him,” I say.
“I care about him a lot more than you do. Ben is the best!”
I admit, “I think he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
With a sneer and a hand on her hip, Molly says, “Of course he’s the best thing to happen to you.”
A rattling of dishes from across the room brings both of our heads around. The Barbie of a woman is walking down the stairs carrying a tray. Immediately, Molly’s mood brightens, and she skips toward the stairs.
“Yes!” Molly squeals. “Thank you so much!” She takes the silver breakfast tray and sets it on the counter.
“Be careful now, the plate is hot,” life-size Barbie cautions with a faint accent, as she walks behind Molly. Her blond hair looks pale against her tan skin, and I wonder how old she is. She speaks nervously, “Now, I tried something new this time.”
