Searching for Beautiful (12 page)

I can’t stop wondering what he’s doing in there, and wishing I hadn’t thrown away those gummy bears, and my apology along with them. I can’t stop thinking about Brenda and remembering how she smiled at me and how she almost, for one second, made me feel like I had a mom. Or maybe not a mom, because I don’t know her, and there’s no one in this whole universe who could take Mom’s place. Mom was beautiful and vibrant. Loving and perfect. But Brenda gave me a couple minutes where I felt like there was another adult I could trust. Someone who I could maybe talk with, and also be quiet with, the way I could with Mom.

She was awesome at that. I used to think she had some kind of magic feeling detector. Like she could read me. She knew when I needed to talk, when I needed to be held, or when I just needed quiet. When I would want her to sit and watch me make a piece of pottery just because it felt good to have someone there.

But it wasn’t just with me. She and Dad were like that, too. She always knew what he needed. She finished his sentences. When he had a bad day at work, she somehow knew and made his favorite meal.

I wish she were here to make things better. Not just for me, but for Dad, too. I think every day he misses her more.

Every day, I miss them
both
more.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Brynn?” Dad seems sad as he stands in the living room, looking at me. He has those little wrinkles by his eyes and I try to remember if he’s always had them or if they only popped up since Jason. “Maybe I shouldn’t go… I’m not sure I should leave you…”

It’s Saturday. Halloween, to be exact.

Dad conveniently has some conference or something to go to and I can’t help but wonder if he just needs to get away. I imagine him spending the night, driving the streets and looking for all the haunted houses he can find and wondering if Mom would like them. Knowing Mom’s would have been better.

“I’ll be fine, Dad.”

He shakes his head, clearly at a loss. My arms suddenly tingle, and I wish I had the power to hug him and take the pain away. “I don’t know, Brynn… It’s the first time I’ve left you since…everything. And it’s Halloween. I’m sure you’ll be going out with your friends, and I should be home.”

Anger eclipses my sadness. Be out with my friends? He knows damn well I don’t have friends anymore. That I haven’t gone anywhere besides the stupid center in months. “When’s the last time you saw my friends, Dad? You know I’m not going anywhere.”

Dad pops his knuckles. When did he start doing that? Mom would be appalled. The sound used to drive her crazy when I did it. If at all possible, his eyes look even more pained as he walks over and sits by me on the couch.

“Do you…do you want to talk about it,
dolcezza?
”

I can’t help but wonder if it’s strange that I can’t speak to my own dad
.
I mean, how would I even do it? Explain to him that I thought I was in love. That I had sex and got pregnant and now, even though I wasn’t ready to have a baby, I feel a little empty knowing it’s suddenly gone. Just poof! Like magic. No, not magic because Mom was magic, but like some sort of dark force that swooped in and hollowed me out.

But I sort of want to talk to him. Or at least, I want him to wonder. Want him to ask, and hold me, and call me
dolcezza
because even if he can’t have his
bella signora
, I hope he can have his sweetheart. That I hope I can be enough. Most of all, I want to take away his sadness. I dream at night for a huge eraser that I can use to delete the parts of our past when everything started to change.

“Is it because of Ja— That boy?” His voice gets tight all of a sudden, and even though I hate the shame I hear when he speaks, my eyes sting because he’s asking. Even though half the time he can hardly look at me, there are still moments he wishes he could make it better. I wonder where he would use his eraser—if he would mark this out for me.

But telling him the truth, spelling it all out for him and telling him I’ve seen Jason, talked to Jason, makes me wonder if he would be even more disappointed in me. “Dad…I can’t.”

He sighs, and I think it’s a mixture of relief and fear. “What about another counselor? We could get you someone else to talk to if you don’t like Valerie. I know I’m not good at this stuff. Maybe someone else would be better.”

Mom would be better at this
. I know that’s what he means.

“No.” I pick at my pajama bottoms. “I’m okay.”

“What about a teacher at school? Anyone?”

“Okay,” I tell him. It has to be hard on him, too, having a daughter who always had a full house, who he never had to worry about, who now only leaves to go to school. “I will. Actually, maybe I can call my friend Brenda. She’s new. I just met her a few weeks ago. There’s also another girl named Emery I met at the center.”

The half smile that tugs at his mouth tells me using a name helps.

Trying to continue to play the part, I swat his leg. “Now get out of here. You don’t want to get to your hotel too late. I’m going to watch scary movies, call Brenda, and eat way too much ice cream.”

Again, his mouth starts to tilt downward. “Brynn…”

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

After another sigh, he’s gone.

…

I stare at the screen and my finger freezes on the remote control. I know I should turn it, but it’s like the villain from the scary movie has jumped from the screen into my life and severed the connection from my brain to my hand.

No, even a movie villain has nothing on the face covering the screen right now.

Jason. He’s doing a local commercial?

The urge to throw the remote makes my arm tingle, but I still can’t move. What gives him the right to act so happy?

Really, I can’t blame it all on him. I should have been strong enough to see who he was. Even if I didn’t, I shouldn’t have given him the pleasure of knowing he still gets to me. I feel like one of the girls from the scary movies who goes off on her own or falls every time the monster chases her.

Jason is my monster, and I’m tired of falling.

Finally I make my finger work and push the power button. I’m done with TV, but the silence in the house is just as difficult. Even though I managed to turn off the commercial, he still won. He still stabbed me to death, and if I had my friends, they’d be finding my body by now while some creepy music played in the background.

No.
Before I can change my mind, I push off the couch. This is another ridiculous thing that I will probably regret later, but for tonight, I don’t want to be the girl from the movies who separates from the group. I want someone—anyone—to talk to, and there is only one person I can think of.

I grab my cell and keys and head for the door, wondering when I became the person who had no one else to hang out with on Halloween besides someone else’s
mom
.

When I climb the porch stairs to Christian’s house, my steps falter. It will be awkward if he’s here, since I haven’t managed to apologize yet. But it’s Halloween. There’s no way my friends would stay in tonight, which means he’s out with them.

I make myself knock, little sparks of electricity going off inside me when I do. It’s the first thing I’ve done for myself in so, so long. You know your life has gone downhill when knocking on a door suddenly makes you feel liberated.

“Just a sec!” Christian’s voice comes through the door.

Holy crap.

Christian’s home.

I don’t feel so liberated anymore. What am I supposed to say?
Hi, is your mom home?

Automatically I turn, hoping to get out of there before he answers. Maybe he’ll think I’m an impatient trick-or-treater or something. As soon as I take a step toward saving face, though, the door creaks behind me.

“Had to grab some more— Brynn? Aren’t you a little old for ding dong ditch?”

Okay, I totally need an excuse. First, I don’t have a reason for being here and second, I have even less of a reason for running.

Don’t be the first one killed in the scary movie, don’t be the first one killed in the scary movie.
I reach for some of that liberation I felt a few minutes ago and turn around. Christian’s standing there in a white T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms with a huge bowl of candy in his arms.

I fight the urge to think how adorable he is. Thoughts like that can only lead to more pain.

“Is your mom here?” I blurt out and immediately regret the words.

Christian doesn’t even look at me funny when he answers. “Nope. She’s out. I get to be the one giving candy tonight.”

I’m distinctly aware of him. That he’s in pajamas and I’m in pajamas and that we haven’t spoken to each other since I made a fool of myself in front of him. Since I let Jason take one more thing away from me. Not that Christian is mine, or that I want him, but in some ways he represents a normal I no longer possess. He’s my past. When I knew him, I didn’t know any of the pain of the world. “Okay. Thanks.”

Still, I stall, trying to piece together the words in my head. Trying to figure how to apologize for how I’ve treated him. Can we be friends? I’m not sure, but I also don’t want to be that girl. I hate the anger festering inside me like an infection—gangrene taking me over and rotting me from the inside out.

It’s crazy, but Emery pops into my head. She’s strong. She’s having her baby. She still smiles and laughs even though her own parents kicked her out. Internally, I search for my inner Emery.

Before I can find her, Christian says, “Watch a movie with me, Bryntastic.”

It’s not a question, and I somehow wonder if he knows that if he had asked me, I would have said no. But this way I can pretend I don’t have the option of turning him down. Because I want to stay. I want to just
be
with someone. “Okay.” I shrug.

Without another word, he turns and walks inside. My heart beats once, twice, three times before I suck in a deep breath and follow him.

The TV is off in the living room and a sudden burst of panic explodes inside me. Does he want me to go into his room with him? Maybe that was a line like the ones Jason used. If it came down to it, maybe Christian would use me for sex, too.

Somehow, I make myself push those thoughts aside. For one night, I’m going to try to forget the perfect, smiling face I just saw on TV. Try to be the Brynn De Luca from before.

“So…how ya been?” Christian sets down the bowl, picks his guitar off the couch, and leans it on a stand in the corner. He hadn’t been watching a movie at all, and I suddenly feel like I’m intruding.

“If you’re busy…”

“I would have said so.” He sits down, his legs out in front of him, comfortable in who he is. I used to be like that. Or at least, I think I was. If I were really that confident, I’m not sure I would have fallen for Jason.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out before I lose my nerve.

Christian sighs. “Took you long enough to apologize.” He stalls and I wonder if he’s going to ask me to leave when he adds, “We all deal with shit. I’ve seen too much and I don’t play games, so we’re cool or we’re not. You choose.”

“What have you dealt with?” I ask.

“Just stuff. My mom works at a teen center, remember? I’ve seen a lot. She’s taught me and told me tons.”

Which makes sense, but there’s something off about it, too. Something that makes me think there’s more to the story than Christian wants to share. I never would have expected that from him. He seems like such an open book.

“I haven’t heard you in your backyard much. That’s your studio out there, right?”

No, I haven’t been out there. There’s not really a point. It’s not like I’m making anything.

“Haven’t been in the mood.” For something to do, I sit on the opposite side of the couch from him. It’s brown leather and makes a little sound when I sit. Across from us, the TV is mounted to the wall, with shelves beneath it filled with all sorts of boy TV stuff. And then, I turn my head and look at him. I didn’t want to because I hate the way he looks at me. Hate it and love it at the same time. Not because I like him, because I don’t—I won’t—but I love it because it’s normal and hate it because it makes me feel naked. Like he’s seeing inside me in a way Jason never did.

I’m pretty sure we both know I’m lying. Know I don’t go into my room because it makes me feel even more lost. That I don’t go out there because I can’t make anything ever again. I send tiny little wishes into the universe that he doesn’t call me on it. That he doesn’t ask me why I’m not in the mood, or why I’m here to see his mom, or why I watch him and then treat him badly.

Christian gives a slight shrug before he leans forward, past the candy bowl and toward his bag of gummy bears. He pours some into his lap and hands me the bag, which I take. I pop one into my mouth, briefly getting a whiff of that sugary smell that reminds me of him.

“I only do old-school horror flicks.
Nightmare on Elm Street
is in. That cool with you?” he asks around a gummy. For some reason, I wonder if we’re eating the same color.

“Perfect.”

For the next two hours, there’s nothing but scary dreams, knife fingers, and Freddy’s messed-up face. No questions, no small talk, and it’s just what I need.

Right as the credits start to roll, the front door opens, propelling me off the couch.
Calm down, Brynn. You weren’t doing anything wrong.

Brenda walks in, dressed like a Mexican dancer. “Whew, I’m tired— Oh, hey! How are you?” She smiles at me.

“Fine. We were just watching a movie, but it’s over, so I’m heading home now.”

Christian walks forward, scratching his head. “Where’s Sally?” he asks his mom. For a second, I wonder who that is, but I remember he has a sister. I’ve never seen her, but there’s another woman I see come and go. Could be her, too.

“She’ll be home soon. She’s on an ice cream run.” Brenda turns toward me. “You don’t have to go.” I get one of those “Mom” looks from her.

“No, I should get home. It’s pretty late. My dad’s gone until tomorrow afternoon and he might call the home phone to check on me.” Which is true.

“She came to see you.” Christian crosses his arms and stands next to me. He’s not close enough to touch me but somehow I feel him. My skin warms and pebbles with goose bumps at the same time.