Searching for Beautiful (26 page)

I shake my head. “I was only lost for a little while, but I found my way back.”

Diana speaks next. “Your mom was incredible, but she didn’t make you special, Brynn. You did that yourself. We’re your best friends. We love you.”

At that the tears start to leak from my eyes. “I love you guys, too.”

“It hurt to have you push us away,” Diana whispers. “We’d always been a team and though we understood, it sucked. And then when you started talking about this new boyfriend you didn’t want us to meet, it was like you didn’t care. You’d moved on and forgotten about us. We weren’t good enough to be there for you, when we loved her right along with you.”

When Ellie’s parents fought, she talked to Mom. When we needed a ride somewhere, we asked her. Diana started her period for the first time at our house and my mom was there. I should have realized it hurt them, too. That they felt like I left them, as well.

“And even after everything happened…” Ellie shifts. “You didn’t want to see anyone after the baby, which again, we get. But then all these rumors started to go around and you didn’t answer our calls again. We came to your house that day and I know we were angry but you didn’t even try then. It was like you didn’t care anymore.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Never. I could never forget about you guys. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was lost without Mom and then Jason…I thought he loved me. He told me he did. It was all a lie.”

“It was like we didn’t know you anymore. We tried so hard to reach out to you after your mom that it was hard to keep trying after Jason. You could have tried, too.”

And I know they’re right about that. It was another way I didn’t fight. Another way I just folded in and accepted everything. I didn’t make sure the world knew what Jason did or make sure people knew I didn’t lie. I became a bystander in my own life and let everyone else take the blame for not coming to me. “You’re right. I know you’re right and I don’t have an excuse. I wish I did. The only thing I know to do is try to move forward. To fight for our friendship now because I love you guys. You’ve always been my best friends.”

Their breaths hitch at that…and then they part, putting space between them on the couch, and I know what they’re saying. After all these years, I can read them like that.

My legs shake as I walk over and sit between them. We hold hands and I continue to talk.

I tell them everything about Jason. His lies. My feelings. And I even admit to being embarrassed by him not wanting to meet my friends and lying about it. No, I never should have told them it was me who didn’t want Jason to meet anyone. But I was lost and finally felt I had something that was mine.

“I wish things could have been different,” Diana says. “We missed you, Brynn.”

“I missed you guys, too. So much.”

We’re silent for a minute, and then I add, “I know I pulled away first…but you guys aren’t innocent either. The way you treated me. I don’t think I deserved that.”

“You’re right,” Ellie says.

“I’m so sorry,” Diana adds. “Maybe we can try to start over… Go slowly.”

My heart bounces. “I would love that.”

“All of us made mistakes. I’d like to try to get our friendship back, too.” Ellie looks down.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. I need to prove things to them, and them to me. The fact that we’re all willing gives me hope.

I listen as they talk about some of the things they’ve been doing the past months. Then I talk to them about Christian and tell them I have a new friend named Emery I hope they can meet one day.

Each word is a cleansing breath. A compression on my chest bringing me back to life again.

And I can’t wait to live.

When I finally get up to leave, both girls stand, too. Diana holds out her pinkie first, then Ellie, and finally me. We link them all together. “Always,” I say.

“Always,” my friends whisper right beside me.

Chapter Forty

Now

The day after I visit Ellie and Diana, Dad’s at work. I slip on my bunny slippers, grab the picture of Mom and me, and head straight to my pottery room.

My hands shake a little, but I ignore it. I fight through it as I set the picture down so it’s facing my wheel. “I’m getting this back for me, Mom. I’m doing it for you.”

I’m on autopilot as I get everything together. It’s as though I blink and then I’m sitting in front of my potter wheel. Wetting my hands in a bowl, I touch the clay as it spins round and rough. I savor the feel of it on my fingers and let my mind
free
the way I always do when I create.

My movements are natural. A part of me that will always be there because Mom helped me find it. I mold and sculpt. Each movement of my hand and easy spin of the wheel is my fight. My way to get my life back. My way to create my own piece of beautiful.

…

Christian comes home on New Years Day. Stalker-ish, I know, but I’ve been watching for their car. I should probably give him some time to rest or unpack, but I can’t stop myself from going straight over. He cocks his head at me when he sees me coming and leans in the doorway.

“Are you here for my mom?” There’s no real anger in his voice, but I can tell he’s upset. I respect that he’s not the type of person who is going to continue to chase someone when they’ve cut him off at every corner, like I did.

“No,” I tell him. “I’m here for you. Can you come with me somewhere?”

“Brynn—”

“Please. It’s important.”

He nods and turns to tell Brenda he’ll be right back.

“Is that Brynn?” she asks, and I smile at the sound of her accent. I missed her.

“Yeah,” Christian says. When his mom comes out, Christian heads to my car as though he’s giving us time.

“I heard that you spoke to Valerie about Emery,
mija
. I’m very proud of you.”

Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug. Brenda squeezes back. I know that if I ever need to talk, she’ll be there.

“It took a lot of bravery for you to come forward like you did. The right thing. It’s not always the easy thing to do, but you did it. I hope you’re giving yourself credit for that,” she tells me.

After I pull away, I nod. “I am…and I have more to tell you. About Jason and everything else. Maybe we can talk soon?”

She puts a hand on my shoulder and grins. “I would be honored. Any time, okay? I’ll make you breakfast again and I’ll try not to burn your mouth this time.” Brenda winks.

“I’d love that.”

She nods toward Christian. “He’s waiting for you.”

Without another word, I climb into my car and Christian does the same. We drive to the park with the gazebo where he took me on our one and only date. And it was a date. I’ll admit that now. I hope someday, we can go on another one.

Christian sits on the table in the middle and puts his feet on the seat as I stand in front of him. No preparation. No warning. The words just come out of my mouth. “Jason is dead.”

His eyes widen, the shock evident on his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Are you okay?”

I think there are people in this world who are just
good
people, not perfect but
good
—and Christian is one of them.

“I’m trying to be. I
will
be. He had a girl with him. She was a minor. She’s gone, too.” I will always wonder about that girl. I don’t know her, but even though we’ve never met, she’ll own a piece of my heart. “Who knows if he was using her the way he used me. I think so, but we’ll never know. I can’t stop myself from wondering if I could have stopped it. If I could have been stronger, if I would have fought, if things could have ended differently for her. Even if I didn’t have a good case, more people would have known about it. It might have made that girl think twice.”

Christian shrugs. “Maybe, but maybe not. Like you said, we might never know. Regardless, it’s not your fault.”

“Who knows if it is. All I
do
know is I don’t want to question it anymore. I don’t want there to be a possibility.”

He gives me his half grin. His hair is hanging around his face and he’s cute. So freaking hot. I like him. And it’s okay. It doesn’t make me weak unless I let it, unless I make myself
need
him. And he’s not automatically like Jason, either.

“You were right the other day, Christian. I wasn’t fighting. I’ve completely given up on everything since I lost Mom and I’m not doing that anymore. I’m taking my life back.”

Another grin.

“I’m sorry for not trusting you. Or for not admitting…that I like you. That I’ve liked you since I was in seventh grade. I cried in the bathroom because you asked me to dance, Christian Medina. After Jason, it was all so scary to admit, but I’m not going to let myself be scared anymore.”

“Hey. It’s okay. I—”

“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “I need to get this out. You weren’t innocent, either. I get wanting to be strong, but you have to realize not everyone deals the way you do. You put a lot of pressure on people and I understand that it comes from a good place, but you don’t cut anyone any slack. We’re all different.”

He nods at me. “You’re right. I talked to Mom over Christmas break. She let me know that girls aren’t the only ones who are a little
loco.
Apparently I can be, too.” He stands. “I’m sorry, Bryntastic.”

We’re standing close. So very close I can see every color in his eyes. I can see how deep they go on, and that makes me smile.

“So…you’ve liked me since the seventh grade, huh?” He winks.

“Did I say that? That’s not what I meant.” I take a deep breath, getting serious again. “I wanted to go with you to the dance, but it was hard for me. I should have told you this before, but dances are very connected to my memories of Mom.”

“Well, that makes me feel like an asshole. I wish you would have told me.”

“Me too. I’m tired of holding everything in. And…” I take a deep breath. “Christian, will you go to the dance with me?”

He smiles. A big, huge, real smile that makes my heart go wild.

“Are you asking me on a date or are we going as friends?”

My heart speeds up even more. My palms sweat. I’m scared and excited, but can’t wait to do this. I answer him with something other than words. Pushing up on the tips of my toes, I kiss him. Our lips press together in a series of kisses, but I retreat before I let my tongue dip into his mouth. He tastes sweet like gummy bears. He kisses as smoothly and with the same skill that he plays guitar.

My arms wrap around his neck and Christian’s around my waist. It’s the same way we danced all those years ago. He deepens the kiss. Pulls me closer, and I try to push even closer to him. It goes straight to my head and my stomach and I think I just feel him
everywhere.
Christian Medina. The boy I used to talk to Mom about. I know she would be happy for me now.

When we pull away, I press my lips against his one more time, just needing to be close to him again. “I’m asking you on a date.”

“Yes. I am so saying yes.” He kisses me again and I get even dizzier than the first time. I touch the hair that I’ve admired for so long and sweep my tongue across his and wonder if there is anything better in the whole wide world than kissing this boy.

“I have something for you.” I grab my bag and pull out my gift for Christian. The first piece I’ve made since Mom died. He takes it from me, traces the guitar patterns, and the pictures of a couple dancing and the— “Bears?” he asks.

“Gummy bears.”

Christian leans forward and his lips press to my forehead. “It’s incredible. You’re really talented.”

“Thank you.”

He looks at it again. “It’s beautiful.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

It didn’t take him saying it for me to know it.

Epilogue

I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom. My hair is down in long red curls that took forever to do. I have makeup on, but not too much. Just right, I think. Mom was always very particular about makeup. She told me less is more and that it shouldn’t take away from natural beauty. I’m not surprised that she was right.

I run a hand down the front of my dress, which is a beautiful shade of red, too. It bums me out that I got rid of all my old red clothes because of Jason. Never again.

“You look hot. Stop staring at yourself.” Emery steps up beside me. I shake my head at her.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m funny.”

She is. We both know it. “I wish you were going with us.” I turn and lean against my dresser.

“Eh.” She shrugs. “I’m a lot of things, but a high school dance crasher isn’t one of them.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing. I could have gotten you a guest pass.”

She doesn’t reply to that. Instead, she walks over to my bed, sits down, and kicks up her feet. “I probably shouldn’t do much dancing. I always loved it, though. We’ll go sometime. Once the baby comes, things will be different.” There’s a sad edge to her voice. A few weeks ago, I probably would have ignored it, but now, I won’t. Walking over, I sit beside her.

“Are you scared?” I ask.

She pauses, taking a couple deep breaths before she replies. “A little. I mean, who expects to give birth to a baby at our age? And knowing that I’m giving her up…” Another pause. She wipes her eyes. “I know in my heart it’s the right choice. It’s the best thing for my little girl and for me, but it’s scary, too. Scary and sad.”

I put a hand on her leg to comfort her. It’s not something I would have expected to be able to do. Once I told about Max, I was so scared she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It was a few days before she showed up at the center again, but when she did, she came right up, sat with me, and invited me to go see a movie with her.

We went the next day, and then we went out for ice cream a couple days later. This morning she came out to my pottery room with me and drew while I worked on a piece. I like that we share a love of art.

We haven’t talked about Max. She knows I told. The look is always there in her eyes, but I think her asking me to that movie was her way of saying it’s what she really wanted me to do all along. I know how easy it is to feel something—to need it, but not be able to put it into words. I am glad to have been her voice.