Beautifully Broken (3 page)

Mom’s voice rang through out our
house, and we both bolted out of my room into the backyard within seconds. I
stood on our porch, mouth open in amazement. Our grass filled backyards had
tripled in size. We now had free reign to come and go between each other’s
houses, and we were both beyond elated. We shared a quick smile and ran
straight out to the large pine wood structure.

Gray ran right up the ladder
into the smaller version of our actual houses. I slowed my pace and walked
around the tree house with precision. I wanted to take it all in. I ran my
fingers along the wood, lifting them before I could get a splinter. I took in
all the beauty that was ours. It had a ten row metal ladder, that lead up to
the small cutout door. Once inside it opened up into a two-room playhouse. It
was painted pink in one room and blue in the other. Our names hung across the
two pieces of wood that met across the doorway, before sprouting out to make
the steeple for the ceiling. I couldn’t help but touch
everything
.

There were four windows total.
All but two of them faced our back doors. The main room or living room part had
a small TV with a brown suede couch sitting across from it. In my room there
sat a white wicker chair and matching side table. They were brand new. I smiled
with pure and utter joy. Gray’s room had a black suede recliner with a black
lacquer table next to it. All of our books, journals, toys and small belongings
cluttered each room with love.

Our parents let us spend almost
the whole day out there, until it was time to get ready for our party. I pulled
Gray into a hug before ducking my head and rushing into my house. I was excited
to put on my party dress. My mom had found it for me at one of those fancy
shops at the mall. The pink satin draped down my body, resting right above my
knee. It had two small cap sleeves, and a sweetheart neckline that was lined
with black daisies. I stood in front of my full-length mirror for half an hour
before finally heading into the living room, meeting up with my mom and dad.

When I reached the archway that
opened up to the living room, my mom’s tears started to fall. I did a small
twirl and ran into her arms. I thanked her at least a hundred times for the
dress, and turned just as my dad swooped me up into the next hug. He held me
tight against his chest and whispered “
my
sweet baby girl”
into my ear, then
released me.

I wiped away the small tears
with the back of my hand as I walked into the bathroom, right off of the front
room to make sure I still looked okay. I was one of the most memorable days of
my short life. My tears dried up, remembering all the happiness of that day.

As I reached over to unlatch the
fence, I looked up to see Gray sitting on the ladder watching me with bated
breath. My gray eyes met his thunderous blue one’s and I mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’
He shook his head and for the first time in three years I saw a tear fall down
his sun kissed cheek. This was my undoing, I ran right into his arms. Nothing
else mattered, not what he did, not what I did, just him and me at this moment.
I needed to comfort him as he once comforted me when no one else in the world
could.

My arms wrapped tightly around
his neck as I kissed his neck, right below his earlobe. “I’m so unbelievably
sorry Gray. I should have never said that. You know I didn’t mean it, right?
Tell me you know that.” I was in tears while grasping onto him for dear life.
If he couldn’t or won’t forgive me, my life would fall into a million pieces.

“I’m sorry too Bennett. Of
course I forgive you.” His big arms snaked around my waist and pull me into his
lap. “You know you’re the one girl I will always love, don’t you?”

I gently leaned up to kiss his
cheek to reassure not only him, but also myself. “I do know that Gray.” I
slowly ran the back of my hand down his face, stopping just before I reached
his jaw line. “Gray, why didn’t you just tell me?” I didn’t want to ruin this
moment between us, but I had to know.

He pushed his fingers through
his hair while letting out a gasp of air, before looking into my eyes, with a
look I have
never
seen on Gray Weston’s face before. “I didn’t want to
see the look on your face that you have right now. You’re looking at me as if I
have three heads. It’s not like that with Hannah, I promise Bennett. A couple
months ago when you stayed to help the dance committee, she and I ran into each
other in the parking lot. I told her I was sorry for always being a dick, and
that we should try to make things,
pleasant
, before we all graduated.

She agreed. I bent down to give
her a quick hug and she kissed me. It was a swift peck to my lips, but then it
dawned on me that I have only kissed one other girl, besides you.” I watched
the blush reach his cheeks and I could tell that he was embarrassed. I was his
first and only other kiss, besides his stupid ex-girlfriend. I smiled shyly up
at him while he continued.

“So, I pulled her in and kissed
her again. It wasn’t a lustful kiss, but it helped me feel...
something
. We snuck around,
just
kissing
, whenever we could. We both knew
that if you ever found out, you would hate us, so we decided not to tell you.
Today, in the hallway, it was the last time Bennett. I was running late to
class and saw Hannah walking towards the office. I ran up to her and told her
that now that I was leaving,” he looked at me, waiting for my reaction.

“I also told her that I needed
to tell you, and make things right before I left. Then we kissed for a few
minutes. When I pulled back to say good-bye to her, that’s when I heard
footsteps running down the hall. I turned around and there you were. I was
mortified. I wanted to crawl up into a ball and die. I could never imagine
hurting you.”

I shifted my weight on his lap,
draping a leg over the side of the cold metal ladder. I could see the hurt in
his fallen face. I gently grabbed his face cradling it in my hands and with absolute
certainty, I kissed him. This was not a small chaste kiss. This kiss meant
more, much more. I poured every ounce of my beating heart into this one kiss. I
cracked my lips and he took full advantage, exploring my mouth tenderly and
lovingly.

I pushed my hands into his hair
and lightly tugged. We were now fully intertwined and locked together, as our
kiss lasted for what seemed like hours. I hesitantly let go pushing my forehead
onto the bridge of his nose. I couldn’t find the strength to open my eyes.

His overly large hands lifted my
chin up, so I was now looking into his endlessly blue eyes. They were as blue
as the ocean, and I found myself lost in them. I couldn’t bring myself to look
away, no matter how hard I tried. His eyes were burning bright with lust, love
and longing. He had wanted this for far too long, and it was written all over
his face. I realized now that I may have wanted this just as much, if not more
than him. I smiled at the thought. He pressed his soft puffy lips against my
swollen one’s in a swift kiss, but he lingered for a couple seconds too long. I
took my chance and pressed our lips together one more time.

I must have dozed off
because when I came to, I was alone in my bedroom. I rolled over onto my side
and stared at my small cozy abode. I hadn't changed it, not once in the eight
years that I had been living here.

My small white wooden desk
still sat in the far corner by my closet door. My bulletin board had grown in
size over the last eight years, and now took up half of the pink wall across
from my door. I still slept in my full size bed, with quilt made by my mother
when I was only two years old. Across from my bed stood my eight drawer
mahogany dresser, cluttered with pictures of me and my parents, and me and
Gray. I rolled over a bit more staring at the small, framed picture on my
matching nightstand. It was a small picture of my mom and dad when I was first
born. They were staring into each other’s eyes with more love than I have ever
known or felt in my life.

My dad was holding me in his
right arm, with his other arm wrapped tightly around my mother's waist. As I
ran my finger across the picture a stray tear fell onto my pillow. I missed
them dearly and my heart was yearning to feel their touch. I carefully set the
picture back down sliding myself up against my headboard. I sat staring blankly
out the window when I heard voices coming from the kitchen. This was an unusual
occurrence, given the fact that my kitchen only ever housed Gray and myself
since my parents died.

I pushed myself up off my
bed and lazily walk towards the voices and clattering sounds. I stopped dead in
my tracks when I spotted Gray and his mother in my kitchen, cooking dinner. The
picture playing out before me came off as odd. Gray and his mom hadn’t been
getting along since he made the decision to go into the police academy this
fall. As if hearing my inner thoughts, they both turned to stare at my shock-ridden
face.

“Well Dear, don't just stand
there. Come sit at the table while Gray and I finish making dinner.” His mother
crooned. Her sleek copper brown bob swayed as she walked towards me.

“I'm a little confused.” I said,
as I let her lead me to the dining room table. I sat back watching as Mrs.
Weston moved gracefully around my kitchen, just like my mother used to. I
smiled at the memory of my mother.

“Gray told me you two had
quite the day today, it was his idea.” She whispered the last part in my ear as
she set the French bread on the table. The aroma of oregano, basil, tomatoes
and garlic pleasantly tickled my nose. It suddenly dawned on me, I hadn't eaten
all day, and I was mouthwateringly hungry.

“It smells great Mrs.
Weston, but really you didn't have to do this, I manage just fine.” I tried to
stifle a yawn.

“Call me Reagan Dear. Mrs.
Weston was Daniel’s mother you know that. Like I told you, Gray here is the one
who has done everything, I just cut the bread.” She gave me a whimsical smile
and went to search for glasses in the cupboard.

“They’re in the cabinet
above the stove.” I said, waiving my hand in that general direction. I nestled
into the chair at the small glass dining room table, staring at Gray and his
mother as they interacted with one another. I had forgotten how much he and his
mother looked alike. Gray inherited almost all of his looks from his mom. Her
electric blue eyes, and copper colored hair were identical to his.

I admired his mother for all
that she had been through. After Gray’s dad died a few years back, she managed
to keep herself strong and composed. She never left Gray to fend for himself.
If anything, she showed even more love than any adolescent could imagine
needing.

Gray’s father, Daniel died
in September of our junior year. Mr. Weston had been a homicide detective for
ten years before his shocking death. Mrs. Weston had never minded her husband’s
line of work; she was amazingly supportive of his sometimes-dangerous job. Of
course she worried, as any wife of a detective would, but he always seemed to
stay out of harms way.

The day he died was the day
a piece of Mrs. Weston died as well. From what I could gather of that day, he
and his partner were investigating a homicide in a small apartment complex
outside of New Haven. The first officers on the scene had cleared the apartment
before Mr. Weston and his partner entered.

Ten minutes into their
search a neighbor had come by to let them know that they heard a strange noise
from the apartment above. Two men, shooting in their direction, were ambushing
Mr. Weston and the other officers, a few minutes later. Mr. Weston caught a
bullet to his chest and died instantly.

After school we had headed
home without a care in the world, until we spotted Mrs. Weston waiting for us
on their front porch, coffee cup in hand and a tear stained face. Gray broke
down instantly, knowing what it was she was going to say. Me on the other hand,
I stood looking dumbfounded at the both of them, not knowing what was wrong.

As soon as Mrs. Weston could
speak again, she explained to me that Mr. Weston had died. My heart broke into
a million pieces for the second time in a matter of 4 months. Gray and his
mother were devastated, Gray refused to leave his house for a month. Mr. Weston
was like a second father to me, so I guess I took the news almost as badly. He
was one of the kindest men I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. The Weston's
took me in as one of their own the minute we all met one another, and that’s
where we stayed.