Never Eighteen (3 page)

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Authors: Megan Bostic

BOOK: Never Eighteen
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"It's okay, Mrs. Briggs."

"I really need to finish getting ready for work now."

"Okay."

She looks at me thoughtfully, then grabs the picture of the talent show and the Rage Against the Machine CD. She hands them to me and says, "He would want you to have these."

I smile and say, "This means a lot to me." It must be hard for her, entering this room, disrupting it, giving part of it away.

She walks me to the door, shows me out. I thank her, and leave her to her life, hoping that she will indeed have one.

Chapter Five
 

"So, what did you do in there?" Kaylee asks as soon as I shut the car door.

"Just talked," I answer.

"Talked? About what?"

"It's personal," I say. She looks at me as if I've just punched her in the gut. I know I've hurt her feelings—we're best friends and tell each other everything—but I think if I talk about it I might break down. I held it together for Mrs. Briggs, but I don't think I could for another second. It's been two years, but it's still hard, especially now.

"Well, how did it go?" she asks.

"Good, I think." I slide the talent show picture inside Kaylee's car's sun visor.

"Oh my God, I remember that day," she says. "You guys were so horrible; I pretended I didn't know you. That was truly embarrassing." She turns the key in the ignition, sparking Candy back to life.

"Thanks a lot," I reply, slipping the CD into the player. I go straight to track number two, "Bulls on Parade," Jake's favorite.

Kaylee laughs when the music starts. "Oh my God!" she squeals. "I haven't heard this song in forever. I always hated it. It sounds so angry."

She's silent for a moment, listens intently to the rough, metallic chords as if hearing the song through new ears. She sighs and says, "I guess it's not that bad. Where next?"

"I want to see Juliana."

"What if Ben's there?"

"He's not. I checked. I'm not stupid."

"Are you sure about that?"

"That I'm not stupid? Yeah, I'm sure."

Kaylee stares at me and shakes her head in disbelief.

"Oh," I say. I feel like an idiot. "You mean am I sure Ben isn't there." She grins and nods. "Yeah, I told you, I checked. He's with Kyle today, doing some football player stuff. Whatever that is."

"Let's go then," she says as she pulls out of the dead-end street and heads east down Forty-Eighth.

Juliana is my ex-girlfriend. Yes, I've always loved Kaylee, but when the person you love doesn't love you back, you make do. I made do with Juliana. We dated most of our freshman year. She's the first girl I really made out with, copped a feel, even got naked once or twice, but that's as far as it went—no actual sex. She's a nice girl, pretty, nice body, but totally lacking in self-confidence, which was a big turnoff. It's part of the reason I broke up with her. She drove me nuts with the clinginess, constantly trying to please me, and apologizing for every little thing. It wasn't worth the headache. Her boyfriend now, Ben, is a total dick. He treats her like shit and hits her. I know because he brags about it in the locker room after PE. And we all just sit around and listen. We don't say anything or do anything, thinking it's none of our business. I'm going to try to do something now, to make it my business. She doesn't deserve to be treated that way.

I exit the car, turn back to Kaylee, and say, half joking, "Leave it running, just in case."

I shut the door and it muffles Kaylee's cry of "Not funny, Austin!"

I ring the bell and wait. A few moments later Juliana answers the door.

"Hi, Juliana," I say.

"Austin!" She grabs my sleeve and pulls me into the living room. "What the hell are you doing here? Ben finds you here, he'll kill us both."

I shrug my sleeve from her grasp and say more harshly than I intend, "I just want to talk to you."

She looks out the front window, up and down the street, as if searching for some invisible eye, some Big Brother. "Does Kaylee have to sit out front? Can she go take a drive or something?" she asks.

"Ben's with Kyle, isn't he?"

"Well, yeah, but sometimes he's unpredictable. You know him."

"Fine." I pull out my cell, ring Kaylee, and tell her to take a few trips around the block, or maybe go to Starbucks. She lets out an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line but drives away anyway.

Juliana lets out a breath and her shoulders lower. She's relaxed, if only a little. "What do you want, Austin?" she asks. She keeps her back to me, her eyes on the street beyond the window.

I don't really know how to approach it. Can you just blurt out "I know your boyfriend beats you up"? I don't think so. I start out slow: "How've you been?"

"Good, I guess."

"Really?"

Now she turns toward me, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed, arms crossed over her chest. This won't be easy. She says, "Yes, Austin, really. Cut the shit. What's up?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Why?"

"Because of Ben. I know how he treats you, Juliana. What he does to you."

"Mind your own business, Austin."

"I care about you. He brags about it, you know. He's proud of the way, as he calls it, he keeps you in line."

"You lost your right to care when you broke up with me. What? You didn't want me, but you don't want anyone else to have me either?" She's getting angry, and her eyes well up with tears.

"It's not like that. You deserve better than to be treated the way Ben treats you."

"What? I don't deserve this?" She lifts her sleeve and shows a yellowing bruise right below her shoulder. "Or maybe you're referring to these." She lifts her shirt and turns her back, which is covered with more bruises, some old and yellowing like the one on her arm, some fresh and purple, as if from no longer than a couple hours ago.

"Jesus. Why do you let him do that to you?"

She doesn't have an answer. Stays silent.

"I'd like to help you," I tell her.

"I loved you, you know, Austin? You broke my heart."

"I never meant to hurt you."

"Well, you did. I never want to feel pain like that again. Ben loves me. He won't break my heart."

"But he might break your arm, or your nose. You don't need the kind of love he's offering. It's no good. It's dangerous. He could really hurt you, Juliana."

"I've heard enough. Get out."

"Come on. Let me help."

"Help? What can you possibly do?"

I haven't thought it through. I have no idea what to do. I hesitate a little too long.

"That's what I thought. I don't need your empty promises. He'd kill you anyway," she says. "And then he'd kill me. He already hates you because you're my ex. I don't need your help."

"You need to break up with him."

"Yeah, then what? Go into the Witness Protection Program?"

"You tell your parents, the school counselor."

"Fuck off, Austin."

"Fine. I'll go, but my offer still stands. If you need anything call."

"Buh-bye," she says as sarcastically as she can through the crying, the anger, the hurt. I leave, walk down to the corner, just in case, and call for Kaylee to pick me up.

Chapter Six
 

"What happened in there?" Kaylee asks, handing me a decaf white mocha. Her voice sounds weird. I can't place the tone. She sounds kind of mad, or—wait, could it be jealousy? She never did seem to like Juliana all that much.

"I just tried to talk some sense into her, tried to help."

"And did you? Help, I mean?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I hope you didn't make things worse," Kaylee says.

"How would I have made it worse? Shit, Kaylee! Ben won't even know I was there. What's wrong with people? They just don't get it."

"Get what?"

I feel bad that I've raised my voice, but I struggle, every day. I struggle with the whys in life. Why her? Why him? Why me? And I know for some there's no good answer. I get frustrated with the things that are out of my control and I wonder why people don't deal with the things they can control. I take a breath, calm down. "Nothing, never mind," I say.

After a moment of silence, Kaylee asks, quietly, almost in a whisper, "Where to now?"

"Peggy's."

Kaylee turns to face me, one eyebrow raised, and asks, "Why?"

"Because I visit her every Saturday. I just want to pop by for a few."

"Really? That's so sweet. How did I never know this about you?"

"I'm a man of mystery. What can I say?"

"Whatever," she says.

I chuckle. "Just drive, Kaylee."

"Your wish is my command." She rolls her eyes at me. She's so cute when she rolls her eyes. Again, I want to kiss her, but I'm scared, such a chickenshit. She puts the car in drive and we head across town.

Peggy's house is one degree less than a mansion, its presence felt on either side by much smaller homes. This is as close to an estate as you will get in the city of Tacoma. Peggy's grandfather, the lumber king, built it with his own hands—oh, and the hands of fifty employees.

"Should I stay out in the car again?" Kaylee asks.

"Do you mind? I'll only be a minute."

"Nope, I don't mind," Kaylee says as I once again step from the car.

I take the front steps slowly, counting each one as I cross. I always wondered but never counted how many steps led to that deep red front door. What seemed like a million when I was younger now seems to be only maybe, I don't know, five hundred thousand.

Three sets ... six, seven ... next set, fourteen, fifteen ... last set, thirty-five, thirty-six. When I reach the top, my lungs feel as though they'll burst. I can't imagine Peggy being able to walk these steps much longer. She doesn't take very good care of herself; she eats like crap, sits on her ass all day, and drinks way too much. But what does she care? She's got money. It bugs me when people don't take care of their bodies, because sometimes your body doesn't take care of you.

I bend over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath. Kaylee leans over in her car, peers out the passenger window, checks on me, making sure I don't collapse. I try to smile between gasps, reassure her. She doesn't buy it. She darts out of the car and sprints up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and is by my side within seconds. Showoff. She rubs my back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say. I straighten up, take a breath.

She puts an arm around me. "I'm coming in," she says. There was no point in arguing. I would only lose.

A few more steps up the massive porch and we're in front of the giant red door I've stood in front of so many times before. Big red doors seem a bit ostentatious to me, but it suits Peggy's big, boisterous personality. I ring the bell; it chimes Beethoven's
Fur Elise.
I only know this because Peggy told me. I can't stand classical music. I tell Kaylee, "If I had a musical doorbell, it would play 'New Slang' by the Shins. That'd be cool."

"Mine would play 'Lollipop.' "

"What's that? Never heard of it."

"Lil Wayne? 'Lollipop'?"

"Nope."

"You don't listen to the radio much, do you?"

"Not really."

Helen, Peggy's housecleaner, answers the door. She's actually more like a companion than a housecleaner, and not in a gay way, just in a friendship way, a best friend way. She's been around for as long as I can remember.

"Good morning, Austin." She greets me with a peck on the cheek. "Come in." I'm no farther than the entryway when Peggy blasts in like a tornado through a mobile home.

"Austin!" Peggy greets me with a bear hug. She's crushing me, and it hurts, but it also feels good to be hugged like that. I remember being afraid of her when I was younger. She's huge, the size of a car, or so it seemed when I was little. She's not a very pretty woman, her face always overly painted with makeup. And she's loud, so loud. I grew out of my fear, grew to love her. Of course, she bribed me with cookies, and I think children will do anything for cookies.

"Nice to see you," she says upon releasing me. "Ah, you've brought Kaylee with you."

"Hi," Kaylee says. Peggy ushers us out of the open foyer, through the fancy-schmancy living room and the pretentiously decorated dining room, and straight to the chrome kitchen. She's very proud of her décor, can talk for hours about it, and has on occasion. She's put me to sleep a few times over it.

Peggy automatically grabs a plate, places four cookies on it, and pours two glasses of milk, just as she does every time I visit. Kaylee and I sit down at the counter.

"So, Austin, how are you doing?" she asks. She places her elbows on the counter and leans in as if I'm the most interesting person on the face of the earth.

"Some days are good. Some aren't. Today is okay. How about you?"

"Some days are good. Some aren't. Today is better now that you're here," she says. "I'm getting old, you know. Gravity and pain are taking me over."

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