Searching for Beautiful (10 page)

“No. Nothing happened. I’m just a little tired, I guess.”

The way she’s looking at me, you’d think my nose was growing to prove my lie.

“Have a seat.” I do and she continues. “I know it seems silly that talking can help, but it really does. It’s important to get your feelings out, and sometimes it enables you to see things from another side.”

Yeah, talking to a strange woman definitely doesn’t sound like something I want to do. Maybe if I had Diana and Ellie, things would be easier. But then, I didn’t talk to them when I had the chance.

“Your dad said you make pottery. Have you spent any time in our art room? Art is a fantastic way to center yourself and clear your mind.”

A flash of the last fight with Mom plays in my mind. How I ran to my pottery room to clear my head while she died. No, thank you. “Pottery is easier for me to do alone. I have my own room for it at home.”

Valerie nods and I wonder exactly when it was I became such a good liar.

We spend the next forty-five minutes talking about nothing, really. She avoids most of the topics I don’t want to talk about, except she does ask about my friendships at school. I tell her Ellie, Diana, and I have drifted apart, which is true.

“Okay, Brynn. We’re good until next week, but I want you to work on trying to participate more—here and in other aspects of your life. I’d love to see you get involved a little more, or to try and find a way to open up, okay? This will only help if you’re involved one hundred percent.”

I stand, my fight with Christian today playing on my tongue, but I can’t make the words jump out. I’ve never had to
really
talk to someone I don’t know—someone I didn’t choose. I always had my friends or my parents there. I can’t just force myself to say or do what she wants from me.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I had just closed the door when I hear a commotion on the other side of the room.

“Not in the mood today, man.” There’s an angry edge to Christian’s voice that I’ve never heard from him before. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

“It’s not really an option, Christian. You know that.” The counselor I saw him with that first day stands straight, crossing his arms, too, as if to tell Christian he’s not screwing around.

“It’s just a day. One fucking day. It’s not going to kill me to miss our meeting.”

My heart speeds up and I know I should turn away. This isn’t my business. I wouldn’t want people watching me, either, but it’s like I’m nailed in place. He’s being so different from the boy with the smile and the gummy bears.

“In my office, Christian.”

“Nope.” He turns and pushes the front door open so hard, it slams against the wall.

Before he steps out, a woman says, “Christian!” from across the room. I see him freeze as a Hispanic woman who looks an awful lot like him approaches.

She gets close enough to him that I can’t hear her when they speak. I see him shake his head but then she says something else. Christian closes his eyes and even from where I’m standing, I see his chest rise and fall in deep breaths. The room is silent—the only noise a loud beat in my ear.

Without another word, Christian turns my way. My body sets in stone, still unable to move even though I know he’s coming my way. That he’s heading into the room right next to the one I left.

Christian’s eyes briefly run over me—no, it’s more like they cut through me—but then he faces forward, walks over and into the office.

I open my mouth, wanting to ask him if he’s okay, but he closes the door before I get a chance. When the woman slips in the door behind him, I turn, ready to get the heck out of here, but run straight into Emery.

“Jeez. What’d I ever do to you?”

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She wrinkles her forehead. “Yes. I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”

Oh. Duh. But my mind is still with Christian, so my eyes dart to the door, wondering if he’s doing a better job at talking than I did and wondering if it helps.

“What’s wrong?” Emery asks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head but then stop, wanting to say something but not sure exactly what.

“Come on. Let’s go. I can tell I’m needed.” Emery shocks me by grabbing my arm and practically pulling me through the center. She stops, peeking in different rooms—the game room, art room—until finally pulling me into the movie room.

When I step inside, I realize it’s empty. “Emery, really, I’m fine.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you don’t have something on your mind.”

And she’s right. The big surprise is I want to share it with her. I need to talk to someone, and Emery makes me feel way more comfortable than Valerie does.

“It’s not really that big a deal.” And in reality it isn’t. Not when you compare it to other things people deal with.

“Again, so? Can you imagine how boring life would be if the only things people talked about were
really big deals
? Or maybe not boring but depressing, at least.”

She’s right. I walk through the room and plop down in one of the chairs, Emery right behind me. My stomach is a little uneasy. It’s crazy how quickly someone can get used to not really opening up to people.

“Moving your mouth helps.”

I don’t expect the chuckle that jumps out. Then I continue to keep opening my mouth and speaking so she can’t tease me anymore. “There’s just this guy.”

“Sigh…isn’t there always a guy?” Emery asks.

I roll my eyes. “Not that kind of guy.” Though he used to be. Or I wanted him to be. “But he’s nice to me when most people aren’t anymore. Or I guess they don’t take the time to pay attention is a better way to word it. Anyway, he does. Did. And I was a bitch to him on more than one occasion. Today was worse than the others and when I saw him later, he was really upset. He kind of lost it and he’s usually so level.”

I don’t know when Emery came into the room earlier, but I still don’t tell her who I’m talking about. Still, she probably knows. It sort of feels like giving away something that’s his. Or at least his business to tell. He told me earlier that he doesn’t listen to gossip. Who knows if it’s true, but I figure if it is, I at least owe him this.

Emery puts a hand on her stomach and my eyes are briefly drawn there. “So he likes you or what? And you hurt him and he’s upset, so now you feel guilty?”

“No…he doesn’t like me. And I don’t think I hurt him, I was just a bitch to him. I don’t know if that’s why he had a bad day but—”

“Brynn,” she interrupts me. “I mean this in the best possible way, but not everything is about you. You might not be the reason he lost it, as you say.”

My cheeks heat when I realize she’s right. Christian sort of said the same thing to me earlier—that I make everything about me. “When you put it like that…”

“I’m not saying it is or isn’t the reason, but don’t beat yourself up too much unless you know it is, ya know? I’m pretty sure you’re a lot like me. And we have enough to worry about that we don’t need to create new reasons if we don’t have to.”

Again, she’s right. It makes so much sense when she says it that I wonder why I didn’t think of it on my own. “Still.” I look away from her. “That doesn’t mean it was right to treat him like crap.”

“True. I hear apologies go a long way.” She raises a brow.

“You’re being sarcastic,” I tell her.

“No, I’m being funny.”

So many more admissions beg to come out, but they’re locked in a lot tighter than this one was. Talking to Emery was a step, though.

No matter how small it is, it makes me smile.

Chapter Eighteen

Now

I decide to take Emery’s advice. I mean, for months I’ve been wishing I had friends to talk to, right? And now I kind of have Emery. If she had been Ellie or Diana, I would consider what they had to say, so I should do the same with her. Apologize to Christian. It shouldn’t be that hard.

Ha. Yeah, right.

On my way home, I stop by the store to grab some chocolate. I’m not a huge candy person but there are times in a girl’s life when we all need a little sugary energy.

I scan the candy aisle for a good three minutes before deciding on a king-size Twix. I’m going all-out today. Or stalling. There’s a possibility I’m doing that as well.

I’m almost to the end of the row when I spot the bag of gummy bears hanging from a peg. My hand lingers for a second before a voice in my head reminds me it’s a silly thing to stress over. If I’m going to apologize for being bitchy, there’s nothing wrong with getting him some gummy bears, too.

I’m able to go through the express line, so it takes no time at all to get through checkout. As I walk out the door, my eyes are glued onto my Twix wrapper as I try to open it. When a hand comes down on my shoulder, I jerk my head up.

“You should watch where you’re going, Red. You’ll run someone over.”

My fingers fumble with the package in my hand, my stomach going sour as though I ate too much chocolate when I haven’t had any yet. “Don’t call me that, Jason.”

I wait for him to try to stop me when I step around him, but he doesn’t.

“Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

For some reason, his statement makes me stop.

“Go to the side of the building with me. I just want to talk.”

Before the words leave his mouth, I’m already shaking my head. “No.”

He steps toward the edge of the store, brushing my arm with his as he does. “I just wanna talk with you, real quick. No one has to know. You’re not scared to talk to me, are you?”

“No,” I snap.

Jason sighs. “I’m going over there. I hope you come, but I won’t wait long.” And then he shrugs before walking down the sidewalk.

People move past me, in and out the door, as I watch Jason until he gets to the edge of the building. Watch him as he walks around the corner and out of sight. My hands tremble, but still I take a step forward, then another one.

I’m not stupid. In my head I know what’s going on here. A person can be smart enough to know when someone is playing her, but if your heart wants to believe it enough, that’s all that matters. Emotions are a powerful thing. Way stronger than knowledge or experience, because there’s always that hope. Hope that he’ll apologize and admit he lied. Hope that the warning in your head is wrong.

Hope is probably the most dangerous emotion we have.

Jason’s leaning against the wall toward the back of the building. I count my steps, forty-eight of them, until I stop in front of him.

“I miss you.” He reaches out to touch my hair, but I jerk my head back.

“No, you don’t.” Anger burns through me, singeing the palm of my hand, making me wish I had the courage to slap him
.
He’s a liar. Nothing out of his mouth is ever the truth. “You just called me—you were an asshole. And now you miss me?”

Jason’s arm falls to his side. He ignores my question. “Is your dad still freaking out about me? Does he still talk about me and stuff?”

“No. He’s over it. We’re both over it. We never even think about you.”

Jason frowns at that. “Well, I think about you.”

“Oh, God.” I shake my head. “I can’t believe you just said that.” How did I fall for him so easily before? I think it was hope again. Hope that what he said could be real and that he could love me. “You can’t trick my anymore.”

He studies me for a second, chewing on his bottom lip. “That sounds like a challenge.”

My heart speeds up. “It’s not. Like I said, I’m over you. You’d better leave me alone or I’ll tell someone. You’ll get in trouble for talking to me.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “No, you won’t. If you wanted to tell someone, you would have done it when I called. If you didn’t want to see me, you wouldn’t have come over here.”

The shell I tried to build around myself starts to crumble.

“You’ve always been like that. You pretend you don’t want something when you do so you can play nice little Brynn. I see you, though, Red. I always have. You miss me. Even if you hate yourself for it, you miss me.” There’s a calm, almost angry edge to his voice.

My eyes squeeze shut when Jason reaches out, pushing my hair behind my ear. By the time I open them again, he’s rounding the corner.

My stomach cramps and I lean against the wall. There’s something wrong with me. There has to be, because some of what he said was true. And the fact that I have no idea who the man is who just walked away from me. I have no idea who I am, for that matter. Maybe I don’t know anyone.

I pause at the trash can on the way back to my car. A second later I throw the gummy bears inside.

Chapter Nineteen

Early October

Now

Glancing at the speedometer, I see the needle edge closer and closer to 105 miles per hour. When something scary or exciting happens, people always say their hearts raced. I’ve said my heart has raced, but it’s not been
anything
compared to the rapid-fire rounds it’s shooting off right now. So fast I can’t even count the beats. So fast I can’t catch my breath. Jason’s always liked to drive fast. His car is his prized possession, but this is beyond fast. This is a death wish.

“Jason…” I manage to squeak out, but nothing else emerges.

Obviously he knows what I want because he says, “Relax, Red. I know what I’m doing. Let loose a little, huh?”

I nod, trying to do what he says, but I can’t help clutching the armrest. That’s one of the things I love most about Jason. He knows how to have fun. He likes to have fun with me, and if I can just make myself chill out and enjoy the way his car speeds around each turn, I’ll have fun, too.

Closing my eyes, I try to concentrate on my heart rate, willing it to slow down. Willing myself not to have a stupid heart attack. Jason’s dad taught him to drive and according to him, his dad’s a great driver. It’s the one thing they’ve always had in common…fast cars.

When a scream breaks through the car, I twist, a gasp caught in my throat when I see a baby in the backseat. Never, ever mention your heart can’t beat faster, because it can.

“Jason! Stop, slow down! There’s a baby in the backseat!” My hands beg to grab him, to jerk him until he listens to me, but I know I can’t. That will just make us wreck.