Breaking Free (18 page)

OMG! I’m dying over here.  You’re telling me everything after school.

“What did you find?” Elise asks, as she enters the room, carrying a ladder.

“Notes we passed in school.”

“Must be a good one, you’re smiling.”

“I was telling Jenna about my first time having sex.  It was terrible.”

“First time always is,” she says, climbing the ladder.

I
chuckle at her words.  If I told Sheila that, she’d scold me for having sex and say I was a major disappointment to both her and my dad.  There was a reason I spent more time here than at home.

I continue reading through notes as Elise scrapes the stars from the ceiling. When she finishes, I glance out the window and see that Marta is still sitting outside.  She
looks like she’s on her phone and doesn’t seem bothered, but it’s been over an hour.

“I should probably go,” I say.

“So soon?”

“
My nanny is waiting outside.”

“Nanny?” sh
e asks, walking to the window.

“So I don’t off myself.”

She turns around and watches me.  “Are you going to off yourself?”

“Probably not.”

“Come see me first if you think about doing it.  Okay?”

Nodding, I grab my box and then she walks me to the front door.  When I step outside, she
puts her hand on my shoulder.  “Thanks for stopping by.  It’s hard enough losing Jenna.  I don’t want to lose you, too.”

I
give her a sad smile and turn to leave.

“Hey Kelsie?”

“Yes?” I ask, rotating back around.

“I’m thinking about renovating Jenna’s room on my own.  DIY project.  Would you like to help?  I think it might be therapeutic.”

“Do you know how to renovate?”

She picks a dead bloom from a hanging flower pot and tosses it on the ground. 
“No.  I don’t even know how to use a hammer.”

I smile again
as I picture what a fiasco this could be.  “Sounds like fun.”

“
Be here Monday morning nine am.  I’ll have donuts and coffee.”

Chapter 28
:  August 25

“How was it
?” Marta
asks as I slide into the car.

“Fine.”

“Did you tell them you felt it was your fault?”

I buckle my seat belt and say, “It was just her mom, but yes.”

“What’d she say?” Marta asks, as she pulls away from the curb.

“That I shouldn’t feel responsible.”

“Does that help?”

I stare straight ahead as she heads past my house and towards the exit of the
country club.  “Where are we going?”

“There’s someone else you need to talk to.”

There’s only one person that could be.  “I don’t want to see my shrink.”

“It’s not your shrink.”

“Who is it then?”

“I’ll tell you when you answ
er my question.  Does it help knowing Jenna’s parents don’t hold you responsible?”

I bite my lip.
That’s a hard question to answer.  It definitely helped seeing someone else cry as much as me, but I’m not sure I’ll ever feel better about this, even if they don’t hold me responsible.  “It’s hard not to feel guilty.”

“I know.  We’re always our own worst critic.”

“Where are we going?”

“T
he cemetery.  Have you been since the funeral?”

My heart rate speeds up at just the thought of going there.   I’m wor
ried I’ll picture Jenna in the casket like I did the day of her funeral.  I’d rather never go back to that place.

“I don’t want to
.”

“Why
not?”

“It’s too sad.”

“Have you talked to Jenna since she died?”

“She’s dead.  I can’t talk to her.”

“She might be able to hear you.”

When I don’t say anything, she continues, “
Let’s do this and then we’ll go get dinner, wherever you want.  How long has it been since you’ve eaten in a restaurant?”

“You’re bribing me to go to the cemetery?”

“I suppose I am.”

As much as I don’t like her approach, the thought of eating out is appealing.  I haven’t eaten in a restaurant
since before the camping trip over a month ago.  “Can we get sushi?”

“
Sure.”

We’re silent the rest of the way and when we pull into the cemetery,
Marta follows the circular drive to right in front of Jenna’s grave.  I have no idea how she knew where it was.

“Take your time.  I’ll stay here.”

I slowly open the door and lower my feet to the ground, wondering what I’m supposed to do.  Marta wants me to talk to Jenna, but I don’t know what to say.  As I’m about to close the door, I spot the box with the notes, stars, and flashlight on the floor.  I pick it up and take it with me.

The dark headstone is pretty, but kind of formal.  I trace her name with my fingertip and then sit down on the concrete slab, my back against the granite.

“So, my nanny says I’m supposed to talk to you, Jenna.” I open the box and rifle through the notes, pulling one out and opening it up.  “In case you’re not following me from heaven or another dimension or wherever you are, there are a few things you need to know about my life.  Things pretty much took a nosedive after you left.”

I scan the words on the note and laugh.  “I’m glad you saved our no
tes. This one details our plans for the corporate holiday party my dad threw two years ago.  I’ll never forget the look on Sheila’s face when the Ex-Lax kicked in during his big speech.”  I fold up the note and drop it back in the box.  “I’m still not convinced she made it all the way to the bathroom since we never saw her again that night.  Our poor driver.  That must have been some ride home.”

I pull a star out of the box and twirl it between my fingers.  “This is when you’re supposed to laugh and remind
me of something else stupid we did.”  I push the star to the gravestone, but it’s not sticky enough and falls right off.

“I’m a mess, Jenna.  I miss you.  I hate myself for making you go to the beach that night.
  I’d do anything to take that back.”  I push the star against the granite once more, but it falls again.

“Hey, Marta?” I yell.

She rolls down the window.  “Yes?”

“Do you have any superglue?”

“No, but I can get you some.  Would you like that?”

I nod and she heads to the drugstore down the road, leaving me alone with Jenna.

“I’m surprised she left.  I have most adults freaked out right now.  I guess you can tell why,” I say, running my fingers over my arm.  “Well, these marks are actually from JC.  I lost him, too.  You would’ve liked him.  He was hot and smart and caring.  He’s probably the first guy you would’ve approved of for me.”  I skim a few more notes, but none of them contain anything interesting.

“Turns o
ut I think I might have loved JC.  Go figure.  My first love, but I didn’t even realize it until he was gone.  I guess I just needed some help to figure it out.  Would have been nice to have my best friend around for that.  Not that it matters now anyway.”

After a few minutes,
I rest my arms on my knees and wriggle my toes through my flip flops.  My nails look awful.

“I could use one of your pedicures right now,” I say, pulling the purple polish out of my pocket.  “
I suppose I’m on my own from now on.”  I open the container and apply a coat to my big toe.  “I’m sure you’re wondering, so I’ll just tell you.  JC and I didn’t sleep together.  I tried, but he was a gentleman.”

I move on
to the next toe.  “If kissing him was any indication of what it would have been like, then I really missed out.  There would have been no faking with him.”  After a moment I add, “Kind of makes you wonder if he’s really that good or if it was a result of my unknown feelings for him.  Maybe all the mediocre sex I’ve had before was because it never really meant anything to me or the guy.  I always wanted it to mean something, but it never did.  You knew that.  That’s why you told me they were assholes.”

Marta returns and brings the superglue to me.  I apply a little to the back of the star and push it against the
corner of the headstone next to her name.  This time it finally sticks.  “Is this considered vandalism?”

“Will her parents mind?”

“No.”

“Then, I think you’re okay.
  Are you ready to go?”

“I need to finish my nails.”

She smiles and says, “Take your time.  I’ll be in the car.”

She circles around to the driver’s
side and crawls back in the Subaru, pulling out her knitting needles as soon as the door closes.  “Marta’s pretty cool.  She treats me different than everyone else.  Like she trusts me or something.  I like her.”

I finish the firs
t coat and move on to the second, but cringe at the bright color.  “This really is awful.  What were you thinking?  It’s not going to match any of my clothes.”

When I finish the last toe, I screw the brush back into the bottle and face her headstone. 
It’s starting to get dark and the star is already glowing.  “Goodnight, Jenna.  I’m sorry and I miss you.”  I lightly kiss the cold stone and then rejoin Marta in the car, taking a deep breath as I settle into the seat.  The vise is there, constricting my chest, but the pain’s not as unbearable as before.  I can still breathe.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sad.  I must be due for more drugs.”

“It’s okay to be sad.”

I nod as she exits out of the cemetery.  Instead of turning towards the commercial area with restaurants, she heads back towards my house.  “What about sushi?”

“
We have to stop at your house first.”

I rest my feet on the
glove box and wave my hands trying to get the polish to dry.  “Why?”

“We’re going on a little trip.”

“Trip?”  Lowering my feet, I turn to face her in the dark car.  “To where?”

“To see my daughter.”

“Is she okay?”

When we slow down for a
traffic light, the red glare reflects off her face, showing me a small smile.  “Yes, but I miss her.”

“Where is she?”

“We have to take a plane.”

“Plane?”

“Your father offered his.”

We start moving again and turn off the main road onto the side street.  A middle-aged guy is walking
with his cute little white dog.  “When did you talk to my dad?”

“While you were at Jenna’s
house.”

“He just offered it out of the blue?”

“I told him I wanted to visit her for a few days and he suggested I take you with me.  He thought it’d be good for you to get out of the house.”

We turn into the country club
and wait for the gate to open.  “Where are we going?”

“North Carolina.”

Chapter 29
:  August 25

At home, I throw
a few days’ worth of clothes into my bag and consider how I feel about returning to North Carolina.  For starters, it’s an unbelievable coincidence.  I’m surprised Marta never mentioned that to me when she knew that’s where I was for the camping trip from hell.  At least we’re not going to the mountains.  She said we’re going to one of the best medical centers in the country and it’s in the Triangle, which is in the middle of the state.  I’ve never heard of the Triangle before, but I’m happy I won’t have to face memories of Wilderness Therapy while I’m there.

An hour later,
we’re flying thousands of feet above the ground and sitting across from each other on my dad’s corporate jet, buckled into our seats with sushi in front of us.

“Did you remember your meds?” Marta asks,
picking up her California roll with her fingers.

“Yes.”  I open the pack
age of chopsticks and grab a piece of hamachi like a pro.  After dipping it into wasabi, I stuff it into my mouth.  “Mmm … I’ve missed this,” I say.  “Want to try one?”

“I prefer cooked meat.”

“More for me then,” I say, trying something different.  “What’s your daughter’s name?”

“
Kristen.”

“Does she know we’re coming?”

“Yes.  I called her while we were at the cemetery.”

“She doesn’t mind that I’m tagging along?”

“On the contrary.  She said she’d like to see you.”

I give her a quizzical look, wondering why her daughter would want to see me.  I’m about the most depressing person I know.  If she’s healing from a
n illness, she doesn’t need that.  She needs someone positive and uplifting.

After a few moments
of silence, I ask, “Does Sheila know what we’re doing?”

“I left that up to your father.  I’m not sure what he told her.”

“I’m supposed to see my shrink the day after tomorrow.”

“I canceled the appointment.”

I smile.  “Can you cancel the rest of them for eternity?”

“You don’t like him?”

I stare out the window at the disappearing lights.  We’ve crossed over the mountains and left signs of civilization behind.  “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m sure you could get a different psychiatrist.”

“I doubt I’d like any of them.  I’m not really into spilling my guts to someone I don’t know.”

Her mouth twitches like she wants to say something, but she keeps it closed.

Once I finish eating, I open up my bag to get JC’s journal.  There are still a few pages left that I haven’t read.  I rifle through the makeup, tissues, and magazines, but can’t find it.

“Dammit,” I mutter, pulling things out and putting them on the table in front of me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I left JC’s journal at home.”

She reaches into her tote bag and draws out the familiar notebook with the blue cover.  It’s bubbly on the corner where it must have gotten wet.  There’s also a splattering of brownish red dots along the binding.  I never considered what those were until now.  Blood.  I shudder at that realization.

“I saw it on the counter and figured you might want it with you,” she says,
turning on a tablet and settling in for the flight.

Flipping towards the back, I find where I left off and prepare myself for what will most likely be a
depressing end to his journal.

Day 15:  I shouldn’t have told her to go.  If something happens to Mal, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.  It’s not that I don’t think they can make it—I do—but it’s dark and stormy and the rivers are flooding.  It’d be difficult for anyone let alone someone with questionable mental stability.  If Mia isn’t able to keep her distracted the entire time, I’m not sure what she’ll do.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, JC,” I murmur. Marta glances in my direction and offers a small smile, but remains quiet.

I can’t believe I care for someone so much after such a short amount of time.  What’s worse is I have a nagging feeling tugging at the back of my mind, worrying me that I may never see or hear from her again.  There was so much I should have told her before she left.  We didn’t have much time, but a simple “I love you,” would have worked.  What if I never get that opportunity again?  What if she never knows how I feel?

He knew he loved me.  Why didn’t he tell me?  Maybe if he had told me, I would have realized my own feelings.  I wipe
my eyes before the tears can fall.  There have been enough tears for one day already.

“
I know, JC,” I say, talking to the dead for the second time today.

Marta may think she’s helped me, but I imagine my shrink is going to
be disappointed if I tell him I’m having regular conversations with my dead best friend and quite possibly the only boy I’ve ever loved, who happened to have drowned in a river weeks ago.  I may earn myself another ticket to the padded room.  With a sigh, I return to his journal.

At least she’s away from Bling.  I never liked him being near her.  It seems he’s either scared of me or devising a new plan to hurt me because he’s staying in his tent.  I can’t believe he didn’t even help us free Chris from the tree.  Not that I blame him.  If he showed his face, I’d beat the shit out of him.  Now there are just more reasons.

Update:   Things have taken a turn for the worse.  No time to write, other than: I love you, Mal.  No matter where we are or what you do.  Never forget that.