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Authors: Stephanie Kuehnert

Ballads of Suburbia (21 page)

BOOK: Ballads of Suburbia
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7.


I
S YOUR MOM AS HUNGOVER AS
my dad this morning?” Christian joked between bites of his Grand Slam.

We'd met up for brunch at Punk Rock Denny's the day after Thanksgiving.

Punk Rock Denny's was a regular Denny's, but for some reason, the one in Oak Park employed mostly punks and skinheads, hence the nickname. The staff was very cool, letting us take over the smoking section for hours on end and only charging us for half of what we ordered. It was our cold-weather hangout. Once November hit, everyone stopped going to Scoville. Winter arrives fast in Chicago. One day all the leaves fall and next thing you know everything is blanketed in snow. It hadn't snowed yet, though, so Liam had run off to the park to skate first thing in the morning. I didn't blame him.

“Facing my mom today was really awkward,” I told Christian as I pushed my plate away and lit a cigarette. “She kept apologizing and offering to make breakfast, but I could tell that would make her puke. I made her toast and reassured her that she was a good mom, so she'd stop beating herself up. I'm glad she's not normally a big drinker because I don't know how I'd deal with her morning-after remorse all the time. Now I know where I get it, though,” I added with a wry laugh. “Every time I get too drunk or high, I wake up hating myself.”

Christian leaned across the table and asked in a concerned whisper, “You didn't wake up regretting things this morning, did you?”

I reached for his hand, shaking my head. “Not the things we did. The thing
I
did before that…” I pointed at my left arm with my cigarette and sighed. “Waking up with cuts is worse than waking up hungover. I don't cut because it's fun. I always tell myself I won't do it again. This morning when I saw those cuts, I was so pissed at myself that I wanted to cut again. It's a fucked-up cycle.”

“You didn't cut, though, did you?” Christian squeezed my hand so tightly my fingers throbbed.

“No.”

“Good.” He released his grip and kissed my fingers. The sweet gesture made me smile. “I don't want you to cut anymore. I want you to call me or Maya. Or think about Florida and how we're all gonna live on the beach as soon as we finish high school.”

“As soon as Liam finishes high school,” I corrected. Ever since the night that Christian and I had bumped into Liam and Maya at Scoville when they were talking about running away to Florida, it had become our group fantasy. Whenever things were rough for one of us, we'd talk about the house on the beach that we'd escape to one day. Liam was two years younger than the rest of us, so we always reassured him that we wouldn't leave him behind like Wes had done to Maya and Cass.

“Maybe we can kidnap Liam and homeschool him or something,” Christian suggested with a grin. His gaze drifted over my head, so I turned to see my brother and Maya approaching.

Liam nodded earnestly. “I'm all for that. Get me out of Oak Park as soon as possible, please.” He and Christian slapped hands.

Christian stood so Liam and Maya could take his side of the booth and he could sit beside me. When he wrapped his arm around me and I leaned my head on his shoulder, Maya exclaimed, “Aw! Now why are you two extra cute today?”

My face flushed and Christian cleared his throat. I threw my lighter at Maya, hissing, “Shut up!” and indicating Liam. Fortunately, he was too engrossed in the menu to notice Maya's teasing. I really doubted that he wanted to think about his sister sleeping with his best friend.

Of course Maya knew. I'd called her first thing in the morning and told her about it. I'd omitted the part about the cutting and the fight over Adrian. I wanted to forget that had happened. I wanted to fall in love with Christian. I wanted to be that girl he'd been looking for since the night his stepmom left.

I'd explained to Maya, “I never wanted to be a party girl. I just wanted good friends and the John Cusack movie boyfriend.”

“Christian is totally the John Cusack movie boyfriend,” Maya'd agreed. “And I bet he's gonna give you that ring for Christmas.”

8.

C
HRISTIAN INVITED ME TO HIS HOUSE
on Christmas Eve to exchange presents. We sat beneath the Christmas tree in his living room. It didn't matter that the tree was fake, prelit like something you'd find in a mall, because Christian looked so genuine when he handed me a little box with shaking hands.

My hands were just as unsteady as I pulled the top off to reveal his mother's ring, a gold band with his parents' birthstones, garnet and sapphire. “Oh my god, are you sure you want to give this to me?” I gasped.

It had been exactly one month since we'd slept together for the first time. In that month the following things had occurred:

I hadn't cut myself. Not once. The week before Christmas had been hard because I was preparing for another Thanksgiving disaster. Mom promised that we'd have a peaceful day at my grandma's, though, and Christian talked me through all of my anxiety.

We stopped going to parties. The weekend after Thanksgiving, Christian suggested to me, Maya, and Liam that we skip Shelly's for a concert at the Fireside. That became our new routine on the weekends.

Aside from Maya and me sneaking the occasional drink in the Denny's bathroom and Liam's pot habit, we remained sober. As
far as I was concerned, my make-out sessions with Christian provided a much better buzz.

Christian and I slept together five times. We didn't fight afterward at all. In fact, after the third time, Christian cupped my face in his hands and said, “There's no falling anymore, Kara. I'm definitely in love with you.”

He repeated that again after insisting that he wanted me to have his mother's ring. “You deserve it. Won't you let me put it on?” he asked with a soft smile. Since Christian knew I hated wearing things on my fingers, he'd strung the ring on a delicate gold chain.

I glanced down at all the crap that crowded my neck. Was I really going to let beautiful jewelry mix in with beads, guitar picks, plastic hearts, and silver pot leaves?

“Wait,” I told him. “I want to take all of this off first.”

“You sure?”

He knew that those necklaces were my security blanket. Before the cutting, I'd had them to play with when I was upset. Now I wouldn't have scars to pick at or necklaces to nervously twist. I'd be putting all my trust in Christian. But that's what his giving the ring to me was all about. He was saying he trusted me one hundred percent and I should do the same. I nodded slowly.

He scooted closer to help me disentangle all of my necklaces. Ten minutes later, he finally closed the clasp on my new necklace. He opened his mouth to say “I love you,” but I put my fingers to his lips.

He'd said “I love you” at least thirty times to me over the past few weeks. I always parroted it back, but worried that I hadn't really meant it. I wanted to say it first to prove to myself that I did. I kissed Christian gently and whispered “I love you” as I pulled away. And I meant it. I really did. He made me happy, he made me healthy.

But I hadn't forgotten about Adrian.

9.

A
DRIAN'S FAVORITE DINER WAS A TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR
dive in Forest Park called Ambrosia's. I hadn't been there since I'd stopped hanging out with him. Everyone else preferred Punk Rock Denny's because of the waitstaff, or Jedi's Garden because they gave you a bread basket even if you only ordered coffee. Ambrosia's was seedy and depressing by comparison.

The only other person I knew who loved it was Maya. She said it had character. She adored the multitiered, spinning display case that housed the desserts and provided some of the only light in the place. She also swore it was mob-run because this beefy Sicilian guy always stood at the back with his arms crossed. She nicknamed him Al after Al Capone. It was the place to take Maya if you needed to make her smile.

Maya called me at ten on Christmas night in desperate need of cheering up.

“I hate Christmas,” she said, sulking. “The house is finished. That was my present. My dad took me over there and we had this fancy dinner in a big empty dining room. I mean, there was all this new furniture, but the house
feels
empty. He says it'll be better once my stuff is there, but…” I heard her swallow a sob.

“Oh, Maya, I'm sorry.” I tried to highlight the positive. “It'll be nice to get out of the hotel after a year, though.”

“No,” she choked. “At the hotel I could pretend it was temporary. That eventually we'd go back to Florida and my mom would be there. Now I have to face reality. How am I gonna do that, Kara?”

Christian or Liam would have been better at consoling her with the right words, but she still hadn't told either of them about her mother. It was up to me to lift her spirits. “You'll face it at Ambrosia's with lemon meringue pie and rice pudding.” Our favorite desserts. “And if that doesn't work, we'll hire Al to torch the new house.”

That coaxed a laugh from her. “You think they're open on Christmas?”

“They never close,” I assured her. “I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes?”

“Sure,” she agreed. “But can we talk about things besides my mom?”

So when we arrived at mostly empty Ambrosia's, we discussed my Christmas instead of hers. Of course, the primary focus was the ring from Christian. Maya practically unzipped my coat for me so she could get a peek at it.

“It looks beautiful on you!” she exclaimed, sliding into her seat.

“You obviously knew he was giving it to me.”

“Who do you think helped him pick out the chain?”

“Well, you should have warned me to get him something nicer than a couple of CDs. I felt kinda stupid,” I said, turning over my coffee cup. The unoccupied waitress immediately filled it. Maya and I paused our conversation to order our desserts: rice pudding for me and lemon meringue pie for her.

When the waitress shuffled off to the kitchen, Maya told me, “Christian was afraid you wouldn't be surprised at all because he'd told you about the ring before.”

“Yeah, but I didn't think he would give it to me after we'd been dating, like, two months. It's a big deal.”

“It is.” Maya nodded. “He really loves you.”

I smiled and kept one hand on the ring as we ate and talked about everything except Maya's new house. Then Adrian walked in with a guy and a chick I didn't recognize. They took the booth by the rotating dessert display. I let go of the ring and my palm thudded to the tabletop.

Maya followed my gaze. She shook her head, said “Ignore him,” and continued to talk about the skateboarding lessons that Liam had promised her as part of her Christmas present. I'd stopped listening. Eventually Maya waved her hand in front of my face. “Kara, you're staring.”

“I'm not staring. I'm glowering.” I narrowed my eyes further to emphasize this.

“You're staring and he's going to notice and think you want him to come over and talk to you.” Maya stabbed her lemon meringue pie a little harder than necessary, but the clang of fork against plate didn't cause my ruthless glare to waver.

“No, he's not.” Maya and I sat in the booth closest to the darkened banquet area. Adrian might have spotted us if he'd looked to his right when he came in, but he hadn't. “Who are those people? Did he ditch Cass and Quentin?”

“Why do you care? You ditched him and you're happier now, aren't you?”

Guiltily, my fingers fluttered to Christian's ring again. “Yeah, but I still wonder who those people are.”

Maya shrugged, but her curiosity got the best of her and she glanced over her shoulder. “Harlan introduced me to that guy once. He's a dealer. No shock there.”

“Really? But Harlan's just into hallucinogens. So he's an acid dealer, right?”

“Kara, who cares!” Maya slammed her fork down so hard that the meringue on her pie wobbled and I was forced to give her my full attention. “He's your ex,” she growled. “And now you're with someone who cares about you in ways Adrian wasn't even capable of. Forget about him.”

I hung my head in shame. “You're right.”

For the next hour, I kept my eyes on Maya and my focus on our conversation, but when we were exiting the restaurant, Adrian finally noticed us. “Kara,” he called.

I should've ignored him and kept walking, but I couldn't help it. I turned and said, “Oh, hey,” like I'd just spotted him.

“Come here a sec.”

Maya dramatically cleared her throat, but I pretended not to hear and took a few steps in Adrian's direction.

He asked, “You gonna be at Shelly's for New Year's Eve? Cass complains that she only gets to see you in gym class now. Everyone misses you.”

I fought off a huge grin. I'd been telling myself that I didn't need parties or a gaggle of friends, but hearing that they missed me made me miss them, too. Not to mention the implication that Adrian missed me. I managed to keep my expression and tone cool when I said “I'll probably be there.”

The corners of Adrian's lips curved slightly. “See ya then.”

I followed Maya outside, but she headed in the direction opposite the parking lot. I grabbed her wrist. “Whoa, where are you going?”

She wrenched out of my grip, snapping, “I'll walk home, thanks.”

“Why?”

Maya whirled around, cheeks blazing. “You're my best friend, but Christian's a really good friend, too. He gave you his heart last night and you're flirting with your ex? I thought you were better than that!”

“What? I wasn't flirting. I exchanged two sentences with the guy. And yeah, we have a history, but friendship was part of that history. Adrian understood me in ways no one else has. If I want to be friends with him—”

“How do you think that would make Christian feel?” Maya interrupted viciously. “Do you ever think about other people, Kara? Or only yourself?”

I shook my head slowly, angry tears forming in my eyes. “All of my friendships matter to me, Maya. And you know why? Because before I met you, I had one friend.
One
. You probably don't know what that's like because you have no trouble making friends. You're not shy. You walk into a room and everyone wants to know you. But I'm the wallflower, the girl no one notices or cares about. It felt good to know that Adrian and my other friends miss me and I'm looking forward to seeing them on New Year's. If you and Christian can't understand that…”

Maya apologetically reached for my hand. “I understand. I haven't always had a ton of friends either. When I left Florida I didn't have anyone.”

“Seriously?” I asked, shocked because I'd watched Maya easily befriend so many people over the past year. But suddenly I realized that when Maya talked about missing Florida, the only things she mentioned were the beach and her grandmother.

Maya's gaze dropped to her feet and she scraped snow off one boot with the other. “It's a long story and I don't really want to talk about it any more than I want to talk about my mom.” She exhaled, her breath hanging in the air like smoke, and looked up again. “Sorry I snapped at you. It's just Adrian…well, my grandmother would say he's the fox that could charm the chickens right out of their coop.” Maya squeezed my hand between hers. “I've seen him hurt you before, Kara, and I don't want that to happen again because this time it would hurt Christian, too.”

“I won't let that happen,” I promised.

“Thanks.”

Maya smiled and threw her arm around my shoulders. My words reassured her enough that she allowed me to drive her home, but didn't keep her from airing her concerns to others, namely my brother.

BOOK: Ballads of Suburbia
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