Searching for Beautiful (23 page)

He smiles as we continue walking back to the car and mutters, “Yes, you would.”

And I think maybe he could be right.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Now

It’s a couple days before Christmas break. Things have been kind of busy. My “date” with Christian was right before Thanksgiving. Christian, Brenda, and Sally went to spend a week with Sally’s family for the holiday, so I didn’t see him the whole time.

But we texted.

I don’t care that it’s silly to be excited about something so small, but I am. God, Dad used to tease me so much for my crazy texting skills before everything happened. Mom did too. It feels like another step toward claiming my life back.

I haven’t had any dreams about Jason. Things are still awkward and strained between Dad and me. I don’t know how to cross that bridge, but I think we’re getting better. We made Thanksgiving dinner together, which was a huge step for us. No sauce, but that’s okay. We had a turkey, potatoes, and all the other trimmings, and it almost felt like it used to.

The only thing off is Emery. She hasn’t been at the center as much. I tried to see if she wanted to hang out one time, but she said no. Which I guess shouldn’t mean anything. It’s not like she
has
to hang out with me; I just hoped she would want to. Hoped I didn’t make her mad when I bugged her about Max, but I must have. It wasn’t my business and I should have known that.

As I park my car at the center today, I’m determined to talk to her. To remind her that I trust her, the way no one trusted me. That I won’t bug her about Max anymore. She said she wouldn’t see him and she won’t.

That is, until halfway between my car and the center, I see his multicolored vehicle off to the side of the lot. My heart begins racing as I keep walking.

She promised.

Not my business.

What if he hurts her?

What if someone had stopped Jason from hurting me?

I can’t see him very well because he’s leaned so low in the seat, his car almost hidden. On reflex, I jog the rest of the way to the center. Emery isn’t in the main room. I keep checking, walking from room to room until I find her in the empty art room. She’s sitting in a chair, her feet up on another one, with her back to the door.

“Emery?” I close the door.

“Hey,” she replies.

“What are you doing?” I walk toward her. When I step up beside her, she looks at me. I gasp at the sight of her purpling eye.

“Oh! It’s nothing. I ran into the corner of an open cabinet in the kitchen. Can you believe that? My foster mom felt so bad for leaving it open while we were cooking.”

It sounds like the truth. I could see it happening. It
did
happen to Mom once. I was there. Dad was making sauce and left the cabinet open and she ran into it. He felt so bad and kissed it for her, telling her how sorry he was. How beautiful she was. His beautiful lady.

But there’s a sinking feeling in my gut that doesn’t feel right. It’s off. If there’s one thing Dad taught me, it was to trust my gut.

“You did that with your foster mom.”

“That’s what I just said, right?” She’s getting irritated and part of me wants to shut up, but I keep thinking about that car in the parking lot.

“You’re not seeing Max though, right? You said you weren’t seeing him.” There’s accusation in my voice and I know how I’d act if I were her, so I’m not surprised when she rolls her eyes at me.

“Yes,
Mother.
I’m not seeing him. I’m smart enough to keep away from someone after he hurt me.”

Though that’s not true, is it? Not that she’s not smart, but she’s seen him since he hurt her before. She saw him at the movies and to tell him the baby was a girl and who knows when else. Unless she means since he hurt her again.

“Don’t act like you’re perfect. Remember, I know you saw Jason, too.”

“But that wasn’t my choice! I didn’t
meet
him and I haven’t seen him since then. Max is outside right now. What did he do to you?” I reach for her, worried for her. I can’t take my focus off her black eye. He
hit
her. He had to have.

Emery jerks away. “He’s here? You saw him?”

I nod, trying to see if she really knew or not. “Yeah. Just now.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

I shake my head.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” Emery asks before covering her face with her hands. I don’t think she’s crying. At least she isn’t doing it loudly enough for me to hear, but it doesn’t stop my heart from breaking for her. For hurting and reaching out to her. Our situations may have been different, but I get it.

I kneel down beside her. “Are you okay?”

She pulls her hands away. “I don’t know. I really don’t know anymore.”

I put my arm around her, but Emery pulls away. Pushes to her feet. “I don’t need you to baby me, okay? I can handle this myself. I can handle Max.”

The flip in her personality feels like a slap. Standing, I turn to face her. “He
hit
you, Emery.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that? This is his fault. Not mine. Don’t try to blame me.”

I let her words run through my head. Repeat them. Dissect them. I don’t want to blame her. This
is
his fault, I know that. “I wasn’t trying to say it was your fault.”

“Or maybe it is. I’m the one who gave him another chance, right? I thought he loved me. He’s the father of my baby, Brynn.” She sits back down. “I just wanted someone to love me.”

Her words sound eerily familiar. They could be mine. They
are
mine.

“He promised he wouldn’t do it again. He’s been so sweet. I thought he changed, but now I see it was a lie. It’s always a lie. They’re nice in the beginning, aren’t they?”

If red wasn’t my favorite color before, it definitely is now.

Red hair…red dress, and now red cheeks. I never knew blushing could be so damn sexy…

Ah. There it is. Love that blush.

My beautiful.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

All Jason’s words in the beginning. All lies.

“Jason lied to me, too.” My words are soft, weak.

“I’m so tired of it. Tired of being taken advantage of. I’m never going to trust anyone again, and I can promise you I’m not letting Max anywhere near me. God, what’s wrong with me? I can’t believe I let a guy hit me.”

“What are you going to do?” I ask her.

Emery tosses her hands in the air. “What can I do? I’m just going to stay away from him. Seriously this time.”

Her words make me pull back slightly. She’s said this before. She’s promised to stay away from him, yet she’s sitting here with her eye angry and purple. Jason bruised my insides. Max is doing the same to her, both inside and out. “That’s what you said last time, and now you’re sitting here with a black eye. Even if you really do plan to stay away from him, he was
outside
today. That doesn’t mean he’ll stay away from you.”

“What do you mean
if I really do plan to stay away
? I just said I would, didn’t I?”

“You said that before, too!” My voice is too loud and I try to lower it. “I know it’s hard—”

“Yeah, I know you do. When did you tell your dad about your ex’s call? Or that you saw him?”

I close my eyes, knowing she has me there.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Emery…” I don’t know what to say. “I just want to help. I’m worried about you.”

She sighs and some of the anger seems to seep out of her. She stands. “I know I’m kind of being a bitch right now. I’m just… I have a lot on my mind. If you want to help, just be my friend. Trust me and be my friend and keep your promise not to tell. I can’t depend on my parents or Max, so just let me be able to count on you.”

She walks out. I fall into the chair she just left, totally lost on what to do.

…

My hands are shaking when I pull into the driveway at home. Instead of memories of Jason haunting me, I have pictures of Emery’s eye. The knowledge that her ex has hit her and I know about it. I know and no one else does.

And I’ll be betraying her trust if I tell anyone.

How am I supposed to handle that? What do I do? He can’t hurt her if she doesn’t see him. She said she won’t see him again. And she’s strong. I’ve seen that, so I should believe her. That’s what friends do. My friends didn’t believe me and I was telling the truth. I would hate to betray her trust if there’s not any chance of her seeing him again.

He was outside today…

But she didn’t know. She didn’t want him there, which should count for something. All I wanted was for my friends to believe me. If I don’t do the same for Emery, I’m hanging her out to dry.

My cell beeps, making me jump. “Oh my God. I’m losing it.”

I pick it up to see a text from Christian.

Im now a stalker. Jumped your fence. In the pottery room.

My lips beg me to smile, but the nausea churning in my stomach makes it impossible. My fingers move to tell Christian I can’t. That I need to be alone. But I feel this little pull to him, too. The urge to watch him play and share gummy bears with him. Spending time with him is starting to feel like my new normal, and though I want nothing more than to be excited about that, I can’t fully muster it up right now.

I also can’t tell him no.

Dropping my backpack inside the foyer, I go through the house and right out the back. When I open the door to the room, I see Christian sitting on the small couch with his guitar next to him.

“I thought you could try to make something again if you want. Or I could give you another lesson— Hey, what’s wrong?” Christian pushes his hair behind his ear so it doesn’t hang in his face.

I want to tell him. To tell someone. I don’t know what to do.

“I…” Owe Emery. But do I owe her by telling or not? Right and wrong are all mixed up and blurred inside me.

“Sit down. We’ll play. That always helps.”

I sit next to him, so grateful I have someone here. That I have
him
here. I don’t know if Emery is going to want anything to do with me after everything that’s happened and that makes my chest ache.

“What’s wrong?” Christian asks again. “And don’t say nothing. You can say ‘I don’t want to tell you,’ but I know it’s something.”

Leave it to him to cut right to it. “I got into a fight with Emery.”

He nods but doesn’t go any further. I wish he would. That he would just ask me or poke and prod until I let the words come out. Maybe it will be okay if someone forces me. Because I think I want to tell him, or I should tell someone.

“She…” I begin, but stop the words there. Emery is my friend and she asked me to trust her. I should, I think. All I wanted was for someone to trust me before. “Never mind.”

He turns sideways on the couch so he’s looking at me. His guitar is in his lap and he’s absently letting his fingers stroke the chords.

“You can tell me, you know?”

“It’s not mine to tell.”

Christian nods as if he understands before he starts playing again. It’s a good twenty minutes before either of us speaks again.

“This probably isn’t the best time to ask you this,” he says, “but, hell, who knows. Maybe it is. I’m going to be gone most of Christmas break so I’m going to do this now.”

Curiosity fights to be the primary emotion pushing to the surface. “What?”

There’s no pause. No preparation. Christian just blurts out, “I want you to go to the dance with me.”

I actually
feel
my face pale. My skin gets itchy. My mind rushes through all my memories. Memories of Mom smiling when she told me the story about her and Dad from their dance. About how she fell in love with him there. The way I felt with Christian at our dance in the seventh grade. How happy it made me, and how connected I felt to Mom and Dad’s romance because of it. Dances are connected to so many happy memories for me.

Until the dance that caused my stupid fight with Mom.

That night was the beginning of
now.
The now that is nothing like before. That led me to Jason, who taught me the opposite of everything Mom thought love should be. Sometimes it’s ugly and it hurts. Sometimes it’s a lie.

Just like Max and Emery.

I look at Christian and everything inside me starts to break. To hurt and want and feel the need to run at the same time. I don’t want him to be a lie. I don’t want him to hurt me. Going to that dance gives him the chance to let me down, and I don’t think I can handle that from him. To taint the happiness of what we shared at our first dance together.

I never expected Jason to hurt me. Emery never expected it from Max. That means Christian could do the same. People’s kindness doesn’t come with guarantees.

“Go to the dance with me, Bryntastic. I like you. I want…I don’t know, more than what we are.”

More.
What kind of more? The kind Jason wanted? Diana and Ellie both planned to have sex with their boyfriends after a dance. It’s just what people do. I can’t give Christian that kind of more.

“You can do this,” he says.

No I can’t. I was mad at her over a stupid dress for a dance when she died.

His simple words knock me over the edge. Hurt me, though they don’t have the right to. Because I thought he
wanted
to go to the dance with me. Not to
fix
me. “I’m not your sister.”

His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me. “I’m pretty sure I’m aware of that.”

“Then why are you trying to fix me? Trying to save me won’t change things with her.” I push off the couch, Christian right behind me.

“First of all, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Going to the dance has nothing to do with Angelica, and second, stop lying to yourself. It’s not working on me. You know damn well this has nothing to do with my sister. You’re just scared. God, Brynn, you’re scared of
everything.
”