To See You Again (14 page)

  "Um, hello, Mrs. Jackson. I'm Raven…er uh,
Rachel. Everyone calls me Raven. You can call me either." All of her attention
has shifted to me and I feel Collin's hand glide from my shoulder down to my
back, as though he's supporting my spine in case I pass out. "It doesn't
matter. Anyway, thank you so much for having me. The food smells wonderful.
Your house is just incredible." She's still staring at me blankly. I thrust the
bouquet of flowers in her direction. "These are for you." I feel dumb as I
stare down at my pathetic flowers that look like something a five-year-old put
together compared to the many ornate arrangements throughout the house. She
reaches for them and all her features soften slightly. She smiles.

"It's Ruthersford, not Jackson." She doesn't sound
irritated, just matter-of-fact.

"Oh, my God, of course, I'm so sorry." I start to
cover my face with my hand and then immediately pull it away and instead clutch
the back of my blouse tightly in my fist. I'm an idiot. I feel Collin's warm
hand cover my own. He gently tugs my shirt out of my grasp and clasps my hand
in his, giving it a tight, reassuring squeeze.  

"Oh don't worry about it, dear." Something passes
between her and Collin so fast that if I'd blinked, I would've missed it.

She takes a few steps toward us and openly
appraises me. I ponder briefly if I'm going to suddenly find myself off the
dinner list.  My face warms under her evaluation and I'm thankful for the
physical connection with Collin. My gratitude is short-lived however, because
as soon as she notices our adjoined hands, Collin lets go. She and Collin share
another lightning fast exchange that I can't interpret, and then she smiles
tightly at me. "Well aren't you just darling! Thank you for the flowers, dear.
Let's get them in some water." She hands them to a person in a catering uniform
without breaking eye contact with me. "So, you prefer to go by Raven?" I nod my
head. "Well, Raven," she takes my now free hand in both of hers. It certainly
is good to meet you. I had no idea Collin had a friend as lovely as you." I
glance nervously at Collin, but something is going on with him. His expression
is flat and devoid of any discernable emotion. "Please make yourself at home. I
think we shall be eating in about twenty minutes."

"Thank you." I smile warmly at her.

"C'mon," Collin says, gesturing with his head to
the doorway. I follow him into what he refers to as a "little sitting room".
When he says "little" he could only mean in comparison to the rest of this
ginormous home. This "sitting room" is easily the size of my mother's family
room, the biggest room in her house. Collin slumps down on a couch and I
follow, sitting in an armchair across from him.

I scrunch my skirt in my hands, still reeling from
whatever the hell that was, but decide I need to get Collin talking. He's my
only ally here and I can't lose him now. "Your family eats early. I'm not sure
I'm even hungry yet."

He shrugs. "Lost your appetite, did you?"

I don't respond to his joke, there's a darkness to
it that makes me feel sad. I glance around. Where are all the family photos? I
haven't seen a single one in any of the rooms we've been in. Most people
usually have at least one up. I'm afraid to ask Collin about it. His house
feels more like a museum than a home.

"Where's your brother?"

He shrugs again. "Dunno. Upstairs, I'm guessing.
High or passed out, probably."

"Is that, like, allowed?" I can't hide my shock.

"Not exactly. More like ignored. Denial is
powerful thing." He's quiet for a minute, picking at imaginary lint on his
pants. Then he shakes his head. "I'm really sorry. Sometimes I forget how awful
it is here. I'm just used to it. Sitting around alone in your apartment
probably sounds pretty awesome right now." His eyes flit to mine and then he returns
to staring at his lap.

"Collin, please don't worry about anything. Every
family has their dysfunction. I can handle it; trust me. I still think it's
incredibly kind of you to invite me here." He gives me a half-smile.

I feel a renewed sense of purpose. If I can help
Collin survive his weird family dynamics, then that will be a Thanksgiving
miracle. My family is bizarre and messed up, but even on my worst days with my
parents, there has easily been ten times the warmth between us compared to what
I just observed between Collin and his mother.

Fifteen awkward minutes later we are all seated at
the table waiting for Collin's stepdad to arrive. Reba is across from me still
listening to her headphones. My step-mom would freak. Collin's mother takes
notice and gestures for her to remove them, which she does, with a petulant
sigh. Collin's brother, James, is seated adjacent to the head of the table next
to Victor's empty chair. His eyes are half-mast and Collin wasn't joking. He
definitely looks somewhere between high and asleep. In fact, he looks as though
he's moments away from a face plant in the cranberry sauce.

Collin's mother must take notice of me observing
him, because she eyes me while she speaks to James. "James, honey, how is your
back today?"

"It hurts," he murmurs, sounding more
disinterested than pained. He flops some of his hair out of his eyes and shifts
in his chair. He looks like a gaunt, male version of Reba only with bed-head
and dark circles under his eyes. He's wearing a stained t-shirt and jeans.
Double standards around here must be the norm. Poor Collin.

"James," she says, while looking directly at me,
"has some problems with his back that require pain medication."

"Oh," I reply, trying to sound sympathetic. A
simultaneous snicker from both Reba and Collin drowns me out, however. James
doesn't seem to notice, and Collin's mother's expression becomes a mix of
irritation and embarrassment, but she doesn't correct them. I examine Collin's
profile. He can't possibly think that his brother's drug use is funny, can he? He
turns his face toward mine and I know instantly that that isn't it at all.
His
laugh at least—I can't speak for Reba's—was the sad sarcastic kind, and it was
directed at his mother. The truth is there in his eyes; Collin doesn't find
humor in any of this.

Suddenly, the man who must be Collin's stepfather
emerges. The impact of his presence in the room is palpable immediately. It
shocks me to see how someone who is so short, inches shorter than me in fact,
could be so imposing without even speaking. On his face he wears a stern
expression and a weird sort of smirk. He reminds me of my burned-out high
school principal, Mr. Troy, who tried to garner the student body's respect
through over-the-top discipline of a handful of boys he'd targeted and
regularly referred to as "trash". Collin, who is seated between his stepdad and
me, stands up greeting his step-dad formally. I notice Reba and Collin's mom
have shifted in their seats, as though everyone is on alert. Well, not
everyone,
James still appears as though he's taking a holiday on another planet.

"Sir," he says, shaking Victor's hand in a most
obligatory way.

"Collin," he replies flatly. He turns and eyes me.
"And who do we have here?"

 "This is Raven. She's a friend of mine from
school."

I stand nervously. I can't remember another time
that I felt this on edge. The tension in this room is ridiculous. I shake his
hand. "It's very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me."

Collin's mother pipes up. "Raven brought us a lovely
bouquet of flowers. They're in the kitchen."

"That was very kind of you, Raven. Thank you,"
Victor says, taking his hand and running it over his slicked back, dark hair.
He sits and I quickly follow suit.

"You're very welcome." I look over at Collin who
gives me a supportive smile.

We are about halfway through the most awkward,
silent meal of my life when Victor turns his attention to me. "Raven, why don't
you tell us about yourself."

All eyes shift to me, even James perks up
slightly. From across the table Reba give me a smug smile that's full of
hostility. Super. I've gone from the misfit guest to dinner entertainment. 

I clear my throat and stare at a painting behind
Reba's head. "Well, uh. I'm in the same major as Collin. We have a lot of the
same classes. Um…and I'm from southern Illinois." Jesus. How lame am I? Should
I throw in I like the color blue?

"All right then," he cuts me off before I can
stammer out any other boring anecdotal information. "What do you do besides
classes to keep busy?"

His tone sounds accusatory, and for a moment I
contemplate if I
am
guilty of some kind of illegal recreation or
shameful pastime. I struggle to respond, but my brain is devoid of anything
worth uttering. Then, I hear Reba snicker. Her glee in my discomfort is obvious
as she stares at me smugly. I hold eye contact with her for a moment, and
neither of us backs down. Her unsubtle play to intimidate me has the opposite
effect she's hoping for. A sudden surge of confidence rises within me. I take a
sharp breath and fully revive myself.

"I'm very active with school newspaper, and
actually I secured a record number of new advertisers this year. I also like to
write and had a story featured just last week. Besides that, I work part-time
and play guitar and piano," I say in a voice that finally sounds like my own.

"Advertising!" Victor declares. "Very
respectable."

I smile at Reba who is looking noticeably
deflated.
Take that, bitch.

"Collin?" Victor's voice is curt, and I hear the
same accusatory inflection I was just subjected to, only much harsher.

Collin is sipping water from his glass, but shifts
his eyes to look at Victor. Setting his glass down, he answers, "Yes."

"How are your grades?" I squirm in my chair; all
the victorious sensations I was just having have completely evaporated.

"About the same." He continues eating and doesn't
return Victor's vicious gaze.

"Keep it up Collin and they'll kick you out of
that school, as they should. Remember there are zero free rides in this house."
I look across the table at a near-incapacitated James and entitled Reba, and
find that statement hard to believe. "You will not be receiving any funds for
living expenses until you bring home grades worthy of it." He pauses, eyeing
Collin with an expression so hostile that I feel my eyes water in response.
"Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Collin answers.

"It's incomprehensible to me that you can't just
put forth
some
effort, Collin. Do you want to be a bum your entire life?
Is that your plan?" Victor demands. All eyes are on Collin, but he doesn't even
flinch.

Seemingly not getting the response he's hoping for,
Victor turns to me. "You see, Raven, we used to think that perhaps Collin here
wasn't that bright and
that
was the explanation for all of his poor
grades. Then, he took one of those standardized tests and blew all of his
classmates out of the water. His school claimed he was gifted. Does he seem
gifted
to you, Raven?" Victor points his dirty fork in my direction and I'm paralyzed
with fear
.
I have no idea what to say or do. The last thing I want is to
make anything worse for Collin, but every fiber in my being is telling me to
shout at this table full of crazy people what a smart, fantastic guy Collin is.
But before I can say anything, Victor backs off. "It was rhetorical, Raven, you
don't have to answer."

My heart aches. I reach under the table carefully
and find Collin's leg, gently patting it. He captures it in his own and gives
it a brief squeeze before releasing it back to my lap. Being here with Collin
like this, in his crazy household has completely shifted the way I see him. The
odd thing is this: it's as though he finally makes sense. It's like all the
little aspects of his personality that didn't add up before, finally do. There's
an odd satisfaction in it all, as though all the pieces of him have now slid
into place, the Rubik's cube solved. He glances at me again and gives me a smile
that is somewhere between an apology and a thank you, and that's the moment
that I realize it. I think I might be falling for him.

Later that evening, we're in his basement aka the
entertainment room, watching a movie on the biggest TV I've ever seen. Collin
seems more like himself; a lot of the earlier tension is gone from him, and I
can't help but notice what I already knew: Collin is
hot.
A few minutes
ago, he'd gone upstairs for snacks, and when he returned he sat down next to me
on the couch placing my outstretched legs onto his lap, as he settled in. He's
done this sort of thing before, but tonight it feels different. I wouldn't say
we are affectionate with each other necessarily, like we don't hug a lot or
anything, but we do touch each other sometimes. The handholding in the kitchen
this morning was a first. It's always seemed really natural, and I never felt
like something more was about to happen between us. I glance at his face and he
turns and smiles at me, patting my legs.

"Can I get you anything else?"

I shake my head and turn back toward the TV. I
can't really focus on the movie; instead all of my attention shifts to the feel
of his hands touching me. I imagine what it would be like if
this
touching led to
more
touching and my heart accelerates. Is that what I
want? His hands shift slightly on my legs and it's like electricity shooting up
through them to the rest of my body. So, that answers that.