Scarred (8 page)

“Well
, yes.” My voice was tight and low.

“How could you?” She looked at me in shock. “You can’t go
, I tell you.”

“She is over eighteen
now, Mrs. Lord,” Anna laughed, not sensing the tension in the air.

“You can’t go
, Lexi. How could you?” My mom ran out of the room and out the front door. We heard her car screech as she pulled out of the driveway and we all stood there in silence.

“
Uhm ... is she okay?” Anna looked at me, confused.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,
” I sighed.

“Anna, why did you have to go and open your big mouth about the party?” Luke frowned at her. “I swear you can’t read any situation.”

“How was I to know that her mom was going to freak out?” Anna’s voice sounded hurt.

“
You should have looked at Lexi, it was obvious she didn’t want us to say anything.”

“Sorry, I can’t read her mind like you can
, Luke.” Anna made a face.

“Guys, it’s okay.” I rubbed my temple. “Maybe you both should go.”

“I can stay, Lexi.” Luke sidled up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He, more than anyone, knew just how tempestuous my relationship with my mother was.

“No,” I sighed,
“It’s okay. I just need to be alone.” I looked at them both and felt tears coming to my eyes. “I need to go to the bathroom. You can let yourselves out.”

I ran upstairs
and into my room, falling onto my bed in tears after I locked the door. Just when I thought that something was finally going to go right in my life, it all came crashing down. Just like it always did. I closed my eyes trying to ignore the voices in my head that told me I wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t entitled to a happy life. I wanted to thump my hands against my walls in frustration.

I wasn’t even sure I should go to the party. I mean
, nothing could come of a relationship with Bryce, even if he was interested in me. My mother wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not after everything. And I didn’t know if I wanted to be the one to hold such deep, dark secrets from him. I didn’t know if I could do it.

I hadn’t told anyone—not even Luke—
about my mother’s past. It haunted her every day and, in a way, it haunted me as well. I tried to pretend that it didn’t matter, that I wasn’t bothered, but inside I still felt raw.

There was no
where that I could go that would eradicate those memories from my mind. It was almost a waste of time for me to even think about Bryce, we could never be. Not even if he wanted me.

Chapter 8

As much as things change, they stay the same. Some wise man said that.
That same wise man didn’t have any great sayings about how to get private information though. I was on my own for that. I felt restless and upset when I got back home. Eddie’s mom had called me, she wanted to see me and invited me over. I told her I was busy this week, but would make time for her next week. I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t stand to see her and her photos of Eddie plastered all over her house. But I was the closest thing she had to her son now. But I didn’t need another anxious and neurotic mom. I didn’t need another worrier to add to my already heavy head.

“Mom, I’m going out,
” I called out as I ran down the stairs.

“You’re going out
, Bryce?” She looked at me with a sad face as she came out of the kitchen. “Your dad might stay for dinner.”

“Tell him I had to go out.” I gave her a big smile.

“Are you going to hang out with your friends?” She rubbed my head the way she did when I was a little boy and I gave her a hug.

“Yeah. I’m
going to catch up with the crew,” I lied.

“But you’ll see them all tomorrow at the party.” She hugged me back
, tightly, and I felt guilty for leaving her alone in the house when I knew that all she wanted was for me to be in the house somewhere.

“That will be impersonal.” I paused. “But I will try and get home early.”

“We could watch a movie together,” she said, eagerly, like a puppy looking for some love. “You could stop on the way home and pick something up.”

“I’ll try
, mom.” I gave her a big hug and hurried out of the house, my heart tight. It upset me to see that my mother was even more of a frazzled mess than I remembered. She used to be strong, with a keen confidence that made many women envy her. Now, well, now I didn’t even want to think about the way my mother was.

I jumped into my car and turned on the radio. The loud
, heavy metal music distracted me from my thoughts and I drove quickly to my old spot, fifteen minutes from town. I was anxious to get to Harpers Creek, so that I could finally relax and enjoy my surroundings without feeling cloistered.

Harpers Creek
was a spot that not many people went to, it basically consisted of an old barn, next to a creek, in the middle of a bunch of fields. Old man Harper had died about forty years ago and had left the property to his sister’s kids, who lived in New York. They didn’t sell it, but they didn’t take care of it either, so it was overgrown and desolate. I loved it.

I frowned when I arrived. There was a car parked under the big oak tree and I listened to see if I could hear any noise as I shut off my engine.

My surroundings were silent and all I could hear was the sounds of the crickets and frogs, and the silence of the still night. I figured that maybe it was someone’s old car that they had left there. It looked pretty old so it wouldn’t have surprised me if it had broken down or something. I got out of my car eagerly, anxious to get down to the riverbank so that I could lie and watch the stars as I listened to the sounds of the water flowing. There was nothing that could soothe me more than Harpers Creek.

I walked
, quickly and nimble footed, over the branches and pebbles until I came to the creek and took a deep breath of pure ecstasy. I was finally here; the place I had gone to in my mind every single day while at war.

“Hello?” a
female voice called out to me and I nearly jumped.

“Hello?” I answered with a grunt, not wanting to make conversation.

“Are you safe?”

“Am I safe?” What was she going on about?

“You’re not going to kill me are you?’ she sighed. “I’ve had an awful night.”

Something about her voice was vaguely familiar
, but I didn’t quite recognize it. “I don’t know that I’d tell you if I was going to.”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” s
he sighed.

I looked around the bank
, but couldn’t see where she was sitting. “Where are you, anyways?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “Well I’m going to sit down and not look for you, so you should be okay.”

“Thanks.” She let out a deep breath and I stood still
, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. I couldn’t tell and shrugged my shoulders as I sat down. What did I care where she was or who she was? I had come here for solitude and was grateful that she hadn’t wanted to talk.

I lay back in the grass and looked up at the sky. It was a dark navy blue in color and the stars were shining brightly
, as if each and every one of them wanted to lead me on a journey. I saw some constellations, but I wasn’t quite sure which ones they were because I hadn’t paid close attention in my astronomy class in high school.

“Catch a falling st
ar and put it in your pocket,” sang the girl, wistfully, and I tried to ignore her. She sounded as depressed as I felt and I really didn’t need anyone else’s worries to bring me down.

“I’m a real boy,” s
he said, in a squeaky voice and I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m a real boy.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit confused.”

“It’s from Pinocchio.”

“Okay.” I wanted to say
,
and you are quoting Pinocchio because?
But I didn’t care.

“Just a spoonful of s
ugar helps the medicine go down,” she sang out again and I sighed.

“It’s…” s
he began.

“I know it’s from Cinderella.”

“No, it’s from Mary Poppins.” Her voice was aghast at the fact that someone could have gotten the song reference wrong.

“Whatever.” I said
, under my breath.

“No need to be rude.” Her voice seemed closer to me now and I looked back and fort
h. I saw a figure lying about ten feet away from me. I couldn’t really see what she looked like because it was so dark.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Her voice was low and I fought the urge to ask her what was wrong. “Do you like songs from movies?”

“No,
” I sighed.

“Sorry
, do you want to be left alone?”

“Yes.”
That’s why I came here,
I thought.

“I did
, too, until I got here,” she sighed. “Life can be soo complicated sometimes, can’t it?”

“I suppose so.”

“It’s like there is a battle in the universe controlling my life and, just when I think the good guys are winning, someone goes and finds the kryptonite.”

“Well, that’s not good,
” I sighed.

“No
, it’s not.” She paused. “Do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar.”

“No. I’m not from around here.” I lied.

“Are you sure?” She started to get up.

“I’m sure.” My voice was gruffer than I would normally speak. “Please
, I just need to think right now—in silence.”

“Point taken.” She laughed and I saw her lie back down. I lay back down and stared at the stars. I was irritated that I didn’t know what constellation I was staring at. I wanted to ask her
, but I knew that would just open up the door to conversation. I decided to close my eyes instead. I heard her start singing again, a song I didn’t know. But it didn’t irritate me. In fact it soothed my nerves.

“Last night you slept in a goose-feathered bed with the she
ets turned down so bravely-o,” she sang and I was comforted by her tone. She had a nice voice. I actually wanted to sing along with her. I almost wished I had brought my guitar.

“I’m off w
ith the wraggle taggle gypsies, oh.” She sang and laughed to herself and I wanted to ask her what was so funny. I also wanted to see her face, see if I did recognize her. Something about her personality made me realize that she wasn’t part of my old crew. None of those girls would have come to the creek by themselves, there was no way. I laughed out loud, thinking about Susannah lying in the dirty grass and getting her clothes wet.

I rolled ove
r onto my side, facing the girl and opened my eyes slowly to peek at her. I don’t know why I peeked; there was no way she was going to know that I was looking at her. I could barely make out the shape of her body in the darkness. I rolled my eyes to the strangers of the night. Only I would want to know who some stranger was when I had come here to relax and think about what I was going to do next.

How was I going to find Miss? There was no point
in my being back in Jonesville if I didn’t get to find out who she was. I needed to know. Something in my heart told me that she could be—no, would be—the one to soothe my broken heart. So much had happened in the last five years. I didn’t know if I could take much more. Something had to give. The shock of finding out that my father was a cheat, and then my mom losing it. It had been too much to take. I had gone down a bad path. And then Eddie and I had done some stupid things.

I hadn’t expected him to follow through on half of the things we had said. And then that night happened. And it was all because of me. But
, instead of looking like the villain, I came off as the hero, and now Eddie was dead. I opened and closed my eyes, but I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. My dear, dear Eddie. He hadn’t been such a bad guy. Not underneath it all. The marines would have sorted him out.

I thought back to my first days at basic training. I had thought I was going to die, which had shocked me. I was fit, in good shape. I thought it would all be easy for me. But it wasn’t. Not one part of it was easy. I’d still been too
hardheaded then. Everything had been too much. All I could think of was Lexi’s face on that night. The way she had looked at me as her hero with such genuine and open affection. Just like the way she had looked at me at Steak N Shake and the library.

She was too innocent.
Too beautiful. I’d never noticed it before in high school, but she had an ethereal presence about her. She was the sort of girl you wanted to protect. The sort of girl who got your heartstrings tugging. It seemed to me that she was the sort of girl that could get a man on the right path. But I had to dismiss her from my thoughts. She and I would never have a future after I told her the truth. And I could never truly date anyone without knowing who Miss was.

I bit my lip
, thinking about the short story Miss had written for me. I had read it to two of my closest friends in Afghanistan, while we were keeping watch for suicide bombers at our camp.