Today was a good day.
My math final exam went pretty well - there were only three questions on the test that I didn't remember how to do and there were probably thirty questions total - and I spent all morning writing it. I finished watching Simon Birch in religion and we are being interviewed by Mr. Kobelsky tomorrow with questions he gave us today to ponder.
I am excited that the first semester of my last year of high school is almost over (in eight days, I will officially be done; there are only three more diplomas, two of which I write on the same day back to back, and one final left).
In Sherwood Park, I apparently got a letter from Lakeland College, which I originally assumed to be a letter of acceptance though I had only applied a week and a half ago. It turned out to be a receipt for the cheque my mother had paid for my application with. Oh well. Hopefully soon I will know. It's the waiting that's killing me.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Milestone
Yessir, I believe I've hit a milestone. Right now, at 12:39 in the afternoon, I have successfully completed one third of the second draft of my novella. HOORAY, party time.
Chapter 5
Once downtown, Bryn walked around. She didn't care that the rain had soaked her sweater, or that her hair and makeup were messed.
How can she do that? Just go around and live with herself after saying shit like that?
She began to shake, but for a few blocks, kept walking.
Maybe I'll catch pneumonia. That'll show her.
Bryn discarded the thought and entered the nearest building. The warmth held her and she basked in it. She crossed her arms and noted the name of the shop, Just Flowers.
She couldn't help but smile. She backed up to avoid a table of sunflowers and hit, instead, into a metal shelf lined with white daisies. Bryn watched as one pot fell to the floor and shattered, expelling the helpless flowers and the dirt it rested in.
"Can I help you with something?" a middle aged woman asked, emerging from a door near the back.
"Uh... the flowers... I bumped... I guess I'll buy them."
The woman moved closer, saw the chaos of dirt and petals and smiled. "Would you like a new pot?"
Bryn halfheartedly smiled. "Sorry about the mess," she said as the woman bent in front of her.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I own a flower shop. I'm used to getting my hands dirty." She retrieved a broom and dustpan from behind the register and returned. Bryn inched her way across the room.
"I think you've restored my faith in humanity."
"What?" Bryn asked, looking up from her hands.
"Most people would have left if they broke something."
"I wouldn't feel right."
"I admire your honesty. That's hard to find in people these days." The woman swept the mess into the dustpan and examined its contents. "You don't have to buy these flowers. They're pretty much done for anyways."
"Thanks."
The woman dumped the soil into a trash can behind the front counter. She dropped the dustpan and leaned the broom against the wall. Looking at Bryn, she crossed her arms.
Bryn could feel her judgment. What is she thinking about me?
"Do you have a bathroom in here? I need to dry off," she asked, touching her drenched sweater.
"It's right at the end of the room on the right." She smiled politely as the girl walked by.
Bryn closed the bathroom door. She took off her sweater and washed her face. The cool water felt strange against her face, which, from her reflection in the old mirror in front of her, she could see was red. She thought she had imagined the burning. Bracing herself on the edge of the sink, she looked again into the mirror.
"This isn't happening."
Yes it is.
"All this is one long dream."
You're lying to yourself.
"God, I miss her."
She started, watching her eyes change from green to blue green back to green. She splashed her face once more with cold water then left the bathroom.
"If you don't mind me asking, why were you crying?" the woman asked, touching the petals of a rose.
Bryn paused. Why not tell a stranger everything? What have I possibly got to lose?
"I had a fight with my mom."
"Ah, I hate those."
"I was screaming at her as if it would solve any of my problems. And I was screaming, I mean really screaming. My throat is still sore."
"Wow."
"I even told her I hated her. I mean, I didn't tell her as nicely as I'm telling you, but I still can't believe I said it. I've wanted to say it so many times, you know, and really mean it. But, just never had a really good reason to. Well, there was one reason, but now, life is just so messed."
"Hmmm." The woman touched her hand to her chin in thought. "All I can say is as bad as you think you have it, there's someone out there who has it worse."
"I guess you're right."
"Also, try to appreciate what she's done for you-" Bryn scoffed, but the woman continued, "and try to remember she loves you. I lost my mother when I was eleven. There's so much I wish I could have said and done. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I wasted so much time not being in her company every second I could."
"It's not silly. It's right. I know exactly what you're talking about."
"Well," the woman said, undoing her apron, "at least I'm not alone."
I'm not alone.
"I want to buy some flowers."
The woman smiled and laughed. "What kind? Daisies again?"
"Yes, actually." She picked up a pot off the shelf and handed it to the woman who took it to the register. Bryn reached absentmindedly into a pocket which wasn't there. "Oh, my money's in the bathroom."
Bryn returned to the bathroom and found her sweater hanging on a hook on the back of the door. She pulled her wallet from the pocket and folded the sweater over her arm. No point in putting this on.
She went back out to pay for her flowers when a familiar voice said, "Bryn, thank God."
Turning around, Bryn saw Will standing, his shirt speckled with raindrops and his hair dripping water into his eyes. "Will, what are you doing here?" She stopped between a table with bouquets of flowers and a stand of mini foil balloons.
"Your mom called looking for you. She was crying and freaking out. She asked me to help look for you. By the way she sounded, I figured you were gone a few days."
"I didn't think she would've cared," Bryn lied. She walked past him nonchalantly. At the register, she paid for the flowers. The owner of the store raised her eyebrows at her customer, but got no reply.
"Why do you say sh-" Will started, noticing the woman behind the register, then continued, "stuff like that?"
"You won't understand."
"Why, because I don't have a mother?"
Bryn shook her head, took her plant and left the store. Will followed.
"Well?" he asked through the rain.
"Well what?"
Will stopped. "I'm sorry that you hate your mother for whatever reason, but you don't have to take it out on me. I just came here to find you."
Bryn bit her lips together. "Why did you come find me Will?"
"Your mother asked."
She looked at the sidewalk, disappointed.
"And I was worried."
Bryn tried to hide a smirk. "Why would you be worried about me?"
Will approached her. "I don't know what I would do if that pretty smile got hurt," he said, leaning in for a kiss.
When they parted, Bryn pressed her cool fingers to her cheek and bashfully looked beyond him at some unimportant spot in the distance. He held her shoulders and walked her to his car. "I have a present for you," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah. You're really gonna want to kiss me and do other things that I can't say in public," he said, sticking the top half of his body in through the back window of his car.
Bryn looked around. I can't believe this is happening to me. She smiled brushing a wet assemblage of hair from her forehead. "Hurry up," she said, swaying from side to side to stay warm.
He pulled himself out and said, "You know, I could just not give it to you."
"No, c'mon."
"Fine. You've convinced me." He plunged back into the car and came out holding a small cardboard box. Will held it close to himself with one hand and sifted through it with the other. "It's some of Jen's things. I haven't gone through it all yet, but I know she'd want you to have it." He passed her the box.
In it there were a few things, but what she was immediately drawn to was a notebook with two familiar words on it.
"Her notebook? I thought you said she wouldn't want me to read it."
"Hey, even I can be wrong."
Bryn looked as if she were unable to decide whether she was happy or sad. She half hugged Will and let her wet eyes dampen his shirt. She moved back and balanced the box on one arm and placed the flowers in it.
Will went to the driver's side of the car and turned to her before getting in.
"Maybe we can go out some time. Like a real date. Why bother playing this kissing game if it's just a game, right?"
"I'd love to."
"Cool. Hey do you want a ride home?"
"Nah, I want to think some things over. Besides, the rain's letting up."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Last chance."
"Goodbye Will," Bryn laughed, walking away. She put her sweater over the top of the box and headed toward her home. When she met the corner of the street, Will pulled up beside her.
He rolled down the window and held out his jacket. "Take it."
"I don't need it. I'm fine."
"As fine as you are, you still might get cold. I don't need you getting sick before our date."
A car honked behind him, and he shook the jacket to hasten her decision. Bryn took it and Will drove away.
When she got to the sidewalk leading into her house, Bryn paused.
I really don't want to face her right now. Maybe I should go over to Will's- no, Mr. Currant is there. He's as much to blame as Mom is. I could go to Connor's. Oh who am I kidding? I have nowhere to go. Every place I think of has a reason not to go to. This isn't fair.
"Bryn?" Angelica called from the porch, waving her over.
"Shit."
Her mother, having caught the fugitive, stood, hero stance, arms akimbo in the door's opening.
Bryn plodded to her impending destiny.
"We need to talk," she said, pushing hair from her forehead.
Damn right we do.
She didn't know how draining the day had been until just then, and as if making up for lost time, exhaustion took over.
"Now, please."
"I'm coming," Bryn mocked.
She walked past her mother and dropped the box at the bottom of the stairs.
"What's that?" her mother asked.
"Nothing you need to know about."
"Fine. Be a child. Your sister is waiting in the kitchen. We're going to talk about what happened today."
She walked away.
Bryn rolled her eyes and followed her into the kitchen, thinking of a thousand things she would rather do. Ellie was hunched over at the table leaning on her hand.
"So the prodigal daughter returns," she sneered.
"Shut up, slut," Bryn snapped. Ellie looked down.
"Bryn," her mother said, staring with her piercing eyes. "Sit down please."
"You don't have to direct me every little step of the way Mom. I'm not retarded."
"Sit."
Angelica looked at the girls and squinted, as if the sun was in her eyes. "I didn't think I had to talk to you two about sex. I figured you were being responsible and abstaining altogether."
Bryn shot a look to her sister but was refused a reply.
"You're young ladies now," she continued, sitting across from them, placing her hands together. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. You get all these feelings bombarding you and because you have no experience, you go with your gut, and let them in.
"Now, I have experience on the subject. I felt many things in the course of my life and love was one of them. I needed something to compare it to though. I didn't go around-"
"Wait a minute," Bryn interrupted. She shook her head, confused. "Is this about Ellie or you?"
"Both you girls. I want to teach you how to control yourselves-"
"Are you serious? Are you actually saying that? You're the one who has to learn self control!"
"Shut your mouth!"
"Fuck you!" Bryn yelled, starting towards the stairs. Her mother caught her by the shoulder and turned her around.
"You listen to me, if you want to continue living in this house, you better learn some respect."
"How respectful is it to screw someone whose daughter just died?"
Angelica let go and crossed her arms, moving back to the table.
"Maybe you should lead by example, then you can yell at me," Bryn added. She hovered in place, wanting so badly to hit the woman.
"Go to your room," she hissed.
"Oooo."
"Go!"
Bryn muttered something under her breath and, scooping up the box as she went, stomped to her room. When she closed the door, she yelled, "You know he's back with his wife."
"Keep your goddamn mouth shut," came the response.
Bryn laughed to herself knowing she'd hit a nerve, but no amount of pleasure she got from her mother's anger could comfort her.
How dare she say control ourselves when she's out there sleeping with the first guy she sees.
She screamed, stamping her feet. She threw a picture frame across the room and watched the glass break into large jagged pieces. Falling back on her bed, Bryn covered her eyes with crossed arms.
She breathed shakily, stuck in a strange state. She wanted to cry, but couldn't. Her body began to tremble and she brought her arms down to her sides for stability.
Her vision was blurred and she could only hear the song Jen used to sing.
"If you fall will you get up
You're stuck in a dream, will you wake up
And if you fell in love, would you hold onto it
And if it's cold will you stay warm
You drift too far, will you swim towards the shore
And if you fell in love would you hold onto it."*
*Azure Ray's If You Fall
Once downtown, Bryn walked around. She didn't care that the rain had soaked her sweater, or that her hair and makeup were messed.
How can she do that? Just go around and live with herself after saying shit like that?
She began to shake, but for a few blocks, kept walking.
Maybe I'll catch pneumonia. That'll show her.
Bryn discarded the thought and entered the nearest building. The warmth held her and she basked in it. She crossed her arms and noted the name of the shop, Just Flowers.
She couldn't help but smile. She backed up to avoid a table of sunflowers and hit, instead, into a metal shelf lined with white daisies. Bryn watched as one pot fell to the floor and shattered, expelling the helpless flowers and the dirt it rested in.
"Can I help you with something?" a middle aged woman asked, emerging from a door near the back.
"Uh... the flowers... I bumped... I guess I'll buy them."
The woman moved closer, saw the chaos of dirt and petals and smiled. "Would you like a new pot?"
Bryn halfheartedly smiled. "Sorry about the mess," she said as the woman bent in front of her.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I own a flower shop. I'm used to getting my hands dirty." She retrieved a broom and dustpan from behind the register and returned. Bryn inched her way across the room.
"I think you've restored my faith in humanity."
"What?" Bryn asked, looking up from her hands.
"Most people would have left if they broke something."
"I wouldn't feel right."
"I admire your honesty. That's hard to find in people these days." The woman swept the mess into the dustpan and examined its contents. "You don't have to buy these flowers. They're pretty much done for anyways."
"Thanks."
The woman dumped the soil into a trash can behind the front counter. She dropped the dustpan and leaned the broom against the wall. Looking at Bryn, she crossed her arms.
Bryn could feel her judgment. What is she thinking about me?
"Do you have a bathroom in here? I need to dry off," she asked, touching her drenched sweater.
"It's right at the end of the room on the right." She smiled politely as the girl walked by.
Bryn closed the bathroom door. She took off her sweater and washed her face. The cool water felt strange against her face, which, from her reflection in the old mirror in front of her, she could see was red. She thought she had imagined the burning. Bracing herself on the edge of the sink, she looked again into the mirror.
"This isn't happening."
Yes it is.
"All this is one long dream."
You're lying to yourself.
"God, I miss her."
She started, watching her eyes change from green to blue green back to green. She splashed her face once more with cold water then left the bathroom.
"If you don't mind me asking, why were you crying?" the woman asked, touching the petals of a rose.
Bryn paused. Why not tell a stranger everything? What have I possibly got to lose?
"I had a fight with my mom."
"Ah, I hate those."
"I was screaming at her as if it would solve any of my problems. And I was screaming, I mean really screaming. My throat is still sore."
"Wow."
"I even told her I hated her. I mean, I didn't tell her as nicely as I'm telling you, but I still can't believe I said it. I've wanted to say it so many times, you know, and really mean it. But, just never had a really good reason to. Well, there was one reason, but now, life is just so messed."
"Hmmm." The woman touched her hand to her chin in thought. "All I can say is as bad as you think you have it, there's someone out there who has it worse."
"I guess you're right."
"Also, try to appreciate what she's done for you-" Bryn scoffed, but the woman continued, "and try to remember she loves you. I lost my mother when I was eleven. There's so much I wish I could have said and done. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I wasted so much time not being in her company every second I could."
"It's not silly. It's right. I know exactly what you're talking about."
"Well," the woman said, undoing her apron, "at least I'm not alone."
I'm not alone.
"I want to buy some flowers."
The woman smiled and laughed. "What kind? Daisies again?"
"Yes, actually." She picked up a pot off the shelf and handed it to the woman who took it to the register. Bryn reached absentmindedly into a pocket which wasn't there. "Oh, my money's in the bathroom."
Bryn returned to the bathroom and found her sweater hanging on a hook on the back of the door. She pulled her wallet from the pocket and folded the sweater over her arm. No point in putting this on.
She went back out to pay for her flowers when a familiar voice said, "Bryn, thank God."
Turning around, Bryn saw Will standing, his shirt speckled with raindrops and his hair dripping water into his eyes. "Will, what are you doing here?" She stopped between a table with bouquets of flowers and a stand of mini foil balloons.
"Your mom called looking for you. She was crying and freaking out. She asked me to help look for you. By the way she sounded, I figured you were gone a few days."
"I didn't think she would've cared," Bryn lied. She walked past him nonchalantly. At the register, she paid for the flowers. The owner of the store raised her eyebrows at her customer, but got no reply.
"Why do you say sh-" Will started, noticing the woman behind the register, then continued, "stuff like that?"
"You won't understand."
"Why, because I don't have a mother?"
Bryn shook her head, took her plant and left the store. Will followed.
"Well?" he asked through the rain.
"Well what?"
Will stopped. "I'm sorry that you hate your mother for whatever reason, but you don't have to take it out on me. I just came here to find you."
Bryn bit her lips together. "Why did you come find me Will?"
"Your mother asked."
She looked at the sidewalk, disappointed.
"And I was worried."
Bryn tried to hide a smirk. "Why would you be worried about me?"
Will approached her. "I don't know what I would do if that pretty smile got hurt," he said, leaning in for a kiss.
When they parted, Bryn pressed her cool fingers to her cheek and bashfully looked beyond him at some unimportant spot in the distance. He held her shoulders and walked her to his car. "I have a present for you," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah. You're really gonna want to kiss me and do other things that I can't say in public," he said, sticking the top half of his body in through the back window of his car.
Bryn looked around. I can't believe this is happening to me. She smiled brushing a wet assemblage of hair from her forehead. "Hurry up," she said, swaying from side to side to stay warm.
He pulled himself out and said, "You know, I could just not give it to you."
"No, c'mon."
"Fine. You've convinced me." He plunged back into the car and came out holding a small cardboard box. Will held it close to himself with one hand and sifted through it with the other. "It's some of Jen's things. I haven't gone through it all yet, but I know she'd want you to have it." He passed her the box.
In it there were a few things, but what she was immediately drawn to was a notebook with two familiar words on it.
"Her notebook? I thought you said she wouldn't want me to read it."
"Hey, even I can be wrong."
Bryn looked as if she were unable to decide whether she was happy or sad. She half hugged Will and let her wet eyes dampen his shirt. She moved back and balanced the box on one arm and placed the flowers in it.
Will went to the driver's side of the car and turned to her before getting in.
"Maybe we can go out some time. Like a real date. Why bother playing this kissing game if it's just a game, right?"
"I'd love to."
"Cool. Hey do you want a ride home?"
"Nah, I want to think some things over. Besides, the rain's letting up."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Last chance."
"Goodbye Will," Bryn laughed, walking away. She put her sweater over the top of the box and headed toward her home. When she met the corner of the street, Will pulled up beside her.
He rolled down the window and held out his jacket. "Take it."
"I don't need it. I'm fine."
"As fine as you are, you still might get cold. I don't need you getting sick before our date."
A car honked behind him, and he shook the jacket to hasten her decision. Bryn took it and Will drove away.
When she got to the sidewalk leading into her house, Bryn paused.
I really don't want to face her right now. Maybe I should go over to Will's- no, Mr. Currant is there. He's as much to blame as Mom is. I could go to Connor's. Oh who am I kidding? I have nowhere to go. Every place I think of has a reason not to go to. This isn't fair.
"Bryn?" Angelica called from the porch, waving her over.
"Shit."
Her mother, having caught the fugitive, stood, hero stance, arms akimbo in the door's opening.
Bryn plodded to her impending destiny.
"We need to talk," she said, pushing hair from her forehead.
Damn right we do.
She didn't know how draining the day had been until just then, and as if making up for lost time, exhaustion took over.
"Now, please."
"I'm coming," Bryn mocked.
She walked past her mother and dropped the box at the bottom of the stairs.
"What's that?" her mother asked.
"Nothing you need to know about."
"Fine. Be a child. Your sister is waiting in the kitchen. We're going to talk about what happened today."
She walked away.
Bryn rolled her eyes and followed her into the kitchen, thinking of a thousand things she would rather do. Ellie was hunched over at the table leaning on her hand.
"So the prodigal daughter returns," she sneered.
"Shut up, slut," Bryn snapped. Ellie looked down.
"Bryn," her mother said, staring with her piercing eyes. "Sit down please."
"You don't have to direct me every little step of the way Mom. I'm not retarded."
"Sit."
Angelica looked at the girls and squinted, as if the sun was in her eyes. "I didn't think I had to talk to you two about sex. I figured you were being responsible and abstaining altogether."
Bryn shot a look to her sister but was refused a reply.
"You're young ladies now," she continued, sitting across from them, placing her hands together. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. You get all these feelings bombarding you and because you have no experience, you go with your gut, and let them in.
"Now, I have experience on the subject. I felt many things in the course of my life and love was one of them. I needed something to compare it to though. I didn't go around-"
"Wait a minute," Bryn interrupted. She shook her head, confused. "Is this about Ellie or you?"
"Both you girls. I want to teach you how to control yourselves-"
"Are you serious? Are you actually saying that? You're the one who has to learn self control!"
"Shut your mouth!"
"Fuck you!" Bryn yelled, starting towards the stairs. Her mother caught her by the shoulder and turned her around.
"You listen to me, if you want to continue living in this house, you better learn some respect."
"How respectful is it to screw someone whose daughter just died?"
Angelica let go and crossed her arms, moving back to the table.
"Maybe you should lead by example, then you can yell at me," Bryn added. She hovered in place, wanting so badly to hit the woman.
"Go to your room," she hissed.
"Oooo."
"Go!"
Bryn muttered something under her breath and, scooping up the box as she went, stomped to her room. When she closed the door, she yelled, "You know he's back with his wife."
"Keep your goddamn mouth shut," came the response.
Bryn laughed to herself knowing she'd hit a nerve, but no amount of pleasure she got from her mother's anger could comfort her.
How dare she say control ourselves when she's out there sleeping with the first guy she sees.
She screamed, stamping her feet. She threw a picture frame across the room and watched the glass break into large jagged pieces. Falling back on her bed, Bryn covered her eyes with crossed arms.
She breathed shakily, stuck in a strange state. She wanted to cry, but couldn't. Her body began to tremble and she brought her arms down to her sides for stability.
Her vision was blurred and she could only hear the song Jen used to sing.
"If you fall will you get up
You're stuck in a dream, will you wake up
And if you fell in love, would you hold onto it
And if it's cold will you stay warm
You drift too far, will you swim towards the shore
And if you fell in love would you hold onto it."*
*Azure Ray's If You Fall
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Almost there
My dreams may have been crushed today. Well, not as much crushed as confirmed. The boy I wanted to ask me to grad admitted to already having a date.
I figured that even if he was looking for a date in our grade 12 class, I would be very close to last on his list. Now I am sure that if one of the guys we hang out with (which are not so choice) doesn't ask me to grad and there is nobody left for a last resort, I'll have to go alone.
I can't ask the other guy I wanted to because of things going on with my sister.
I hate that boys hate me.
I have a field test tomorrow in math. I really hope it is a snow day, so that the woman doesn't come to school, and neither do I.
The semester's almost over.
Just two more weeks...
I figured that even if he was looking for a date in our grade 12 class, I would be very close to last on his list. Now I am sure that if one of the guys we hang out with (which are not so choice) doesn't ask me to grad and there is nobody left for a last resort, I'll have to go alone.
I can't ask the other guy I wanted to because of things going on with my sister.
I hate that boys hate me.
I have a field test tomorrow in math. I really hope it is a snow day, so that the woman doesn't come to school, and neither do I.
The semester's almost over.
Just two more weeks...
Saturday, January 6, 2007
Just Flowers Chapter 4
I'm not gonna check all the italicized stuff (from what I could see, it didn't transfer) so just use your imagination as to what should be the character's thoughts.
Chapter 4
Later that week the principle, Mrs. Dann, decided that it had would be appropriate for the grief stricken student body to participate in a memorial.
At half past one, everyone assembled into the gym.
Mrs. Dann tapped the microphone. “Excuse me, everyone. Your silence would be appreciated.” She looked around while the room quieted. “Thank you. We have come together this afternoon to take a moment and remember one of your peers who has recently passed on.
“I’d like to start off with an Our Father.”
They prayed, and Bryn was called upon.
The room erupted in clapping, more for an excuse to make noise than cheering for her. She walked quickly to the front of the room and breathed deeply as she unfolded the piece of paper she had been given that morning. Her eyes moved rapidly over the words – I’ll always remember…she was the best friend a person could have…she loved it here – and she was disheartened. She couldn’t say those words.
“I didn’t really know what to say, I mean, what do you say when this kind of thing happens?” She looked around at the faces, those stupid, blank faces. They knew nothing about Jen. They could care less.
“I wrote a poem.”
She cleared her throat, brushed the hair out of her eyes and, looking at her own paper, read.
“When I have gone away,
too far to call or touch
I hope you don’t forget me
and recall at least this much:
our hands once came together
and stayed in an embrace
I looked into your eyes
and touched your tired face.
We sang together on the beach
as the waves swam round our feet.
Don’t cry, for I’m not really gone
and once again there we shall meet.”
Bryn touched her face to find it was wet. She had been crying. I didn’t notice. Oh God, I was crying in front of the whole school, oh God. Looking around, she saw that others were crying, girls mostly, but she was not alone.
Her face had flushed, though, and she went quickly back to her seat. Mrs. Dann hurried to the microphone and thanked her. She then called Connor up.
“Jen was my best friend. She was more to me than anything in the world.” He looked up for a dramatic second and returned his gaze to the paper he held. “I know that if she could see just how many people in this room care about her, she would have-” Connor closed his eyes, holding back tears it appeared. Bryn looked to the floor. She didn’t want anyone to feel as bad as she did.
“Well, maybe things would’ve been different.”
He left for the seat beside Bryn. As Mrs. Dann took the microphone, Connor took his friend’s hand.
“To close this afternoon, our religion teacher, Mr. Pertalsky has a prayer for all of us. If we could all stand,” she said, waiting until the whole student body had stood.
Mr. Pertalsky was a shriveled man, small and hunched over with black hair and a five o’clock shadow. He nodded to his colleague as she stepped back.
“Good afternoon everyone. I know we’ve all experienced a tragic loss. Jen Currant was a valued member of our school and she will be forever missed.” He looked up from his paper and paused, holding his hands together as if he were praying. “Forgiveness is something that the world needs more of. Of course, some things are unforgivable. Unfortunately, suicide is one of them. It is a mortal sin, and you can pray until your hands fall off, but she’s in Hell-”
The phys ed teacher pulled him from the microphone. Nobody moved and just as the door to the gym fell shut, there could be heard yelling from the other side. There was no doubt that Mr. Pertalsky would be berated for this.
Mrs. Dann sprinted to the microphone and, frazzled and still shocked, said, “Uh, everyone go to your classes.”
Everyone rose and pushed their way to the doors. Connor grabbed Bryn’s hand and pulled her to the fire escape doors that led outside.
“Come with me,” he said, and they disappeared through the river of people.
They were walking a long time before either spoke. Connor was leading; he seemed to have a destination in mind and Bryn didn’t disagree. Her face was far back in the hood of her sweater and she could feel it burning as the tears subsided.
How could he say that about Jen?
She hated him, wanted to hurt him. She knew he would get punished, though, and that gave her solace enough. Bryn locked her jaw to keep from screaming.
They walked on.
As ten minutes grew to fifteen, and fifteen to thirty, Bryn became impatient. She stopped walking.
“Where are we even going Connor?”
He turned to her, saying, “When you see it, the walk will make up for it.” He returned his attention to a spot straight ahead and started again. The sounds of traffic faded and now only the soft sounds of nature could be heard.
Connor finally stopped.
“Here.”
“Here?”
“Here.”
“We’re in the woods.”
“I know.”
“This is what we walked for almost an hour for?”
“No.” He shook his head, walking further. “Past here, just after the bushes. There’s a spot me and Jen drove to a couple times.”
“It’s not make out creek or anything like that, right?”
“No,” he sighed, smiling. “C’mon.”
He took her hand once more and pushed away some branches that lead to a small clearing that had been hidden.
What’s so special about this place? She wondered, seeing only brown patches of grass, tire treads to the middle of the area, and more dead trees. She stepped in and saw what Connor had been talking about.
Just beyond two naked trees that touched to make an arch at the crest of the hill they stood on, was a small field of wild flowers. A thousand little multicoloured hands waved to her in the wind.
“Connor,” she breathed, bringing her hand to her chest.
He appeared beside her. “I know. When I’m here, it feels like there is only this, only now. No matter what, I’m content here.”
Bryn stepped closer to the trees. “How did you find this place?”
Connor smiled. “I used to play here when I was younger. My dad used to own the field, but when he sold it, I guess the people didn’t keep it up and the flowers took over. Every spring I would come to watch them bloom. And the fireflies. There are fireflies at night.”
She looked at her hands, saddened. “Did she see it?”
“Who?” he asked, approaching her carefully.
“Jen. Did you show this – did you bring her here before she died?”
“Yes.”
“I bet she loved it.”
Connor turned from her. “Actually she didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I guess she just didn’t appreciate it.”
“I’m sure she did. Maybe she just couldn’t really tell you how she felt. You know how she was.” Bryn winced at her words. “I mean-”
“I know. But I sincerely think she didn’t like it. She didn’t really appreciate anything I did for her.”
“Connor,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t mean it that way, but she wasn’t the best at accepting things. I gave her a necklace that day, and she flat out refused it. I don’t even know why.” He sighed, walking the perimeter of the clearing. He stopped beside her and smiled. “But that doesn’t matter. I know that you can appreciate it here the way nobody else could.”
“What d’you mean?” Bryn asked, speaking towards the flowers, thinking hard to remember something. The necklace, where have I heard that before. Something about a necklace. She was still mesmerized by the field, unable to look away, unable to focus.
“What I mean is that you’re something special, Bryn. You’re just, I dunno, just really great. And I know that the timing is right.”
“The timing for what?” Bryn took her eyes from the field and focused on Connor. “What are you talking about?”
“Well… we’re on the same level now. We’re at the same point. We can just … be.”
Her heart fell.
“Were you in love?”
Connor sighed and sat on a fallen tree. “Why do you keep talking about her, Bryn? I thought we were having a good time.”
“I didn’t realize I had to forget her so soon after she died,” she said crossing her arms.
They were quiet. Bryn waited for a reply.
She wanted to hate him. He didn’t deserve to talk about Jen like she was nothing, like she had been some person met in passing and nothing more. Something wouldn’t let her, though. She pitied him, maybe because he had lost her too.
The wind blew and it started to spit.
“I did love her.”
Bryn looked at him. She saw he had been hurt by what she said and she wished he hadn’t.
“But I love you more,” he whispered.
Bryn’s eyes grew wide. She stood perplexed. “You-”
“Yeah.”
“Since when-”
“A while.”
“How long is a while?” she asked, moving closer. “A month?”
“Longer.”
“Two?”
“Longer.”
“A year?” she laughed.
He was quiet.
“A year?” Bryn asked, shocked. “You’ve…loved me… for a year? And you didn’t say anything?”
“I couldn’t. I mean, I was with Jen then. I still loved her. I knew that if I tried to break it off with her, you would be automatically off limits so I stuck it out. Time started to run out and grad is in a few weeks and then we’d all be going away, so I was gonna do it after the spring dance. You know, have one last good memory before the end.”
Bryn looked around helplessly. “You were going to break up after the dance?”
“We both knew it was over.”
“But – a year?”
“I know. I should have said something earlier and maybe things would have turned out different-” Connor cut himself off sharply and stared at Bryn. He swallowed loudly.
“What could be different? You mean with Jen?” She approached him and demanded, “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing!” he yelled. “I was doing nothing. I sat on my ass and watched her come to school with cuts and scars. I ignored it because she hated to talk about it and I thought that if I pretended it wasn’t happening, then it wasn’t.” He sat back on the tree stump and rested his forehead on the heels of his palms. “She was sick and… and I didn’t do anything to help her. I didn’t even try. It’s all my fault.”
Bryn was filled with a mix of relief and pity. “Will, I know how you feel.”
He looked up, red faced, confused. “Will?”
“What?”
“You said Will.”
“You know what I meant.” She stood beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder. He was strong, she could feel it. Her stomach fluttered, but she pushed the feeling aside. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. I must have known for years and I didn’t get her help. I wanted to, but she didn’t want any.”
He wet his lips with his tongue slowly, all the while looking into her eyes. “So I didn’t kill her?” he whispered innocently.
“No.”
She waited, breathing unhurriedly, for anything to happen. I’ll take words, any words. The tension is killing me.
He stood, taking her by the waist, and kissed her. She took him in, his taste, his smell.
Suddenly, something clicked.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this.
She pulled back. “Where are you going?” Connor called through the trees as Bryn ran from him.
When she made it home, out of breath and drained, she leaned up against the door as she closed it.
“Oh God,” she whispered, wondering what she should do.
There’s just too much going on. And what was that at the clearing with Connor? Is there something there I just didn’t see before? I’m really only used to seeing the Connor with Jen. But now without her he’s a completely different person. He’s so…so… sensitive. And he smells great.
But what about Will?
Oh Jesus, I’m in way over my head here. God is Chris gonna be jealous-
Bryn looked at the ceiling, responding to the loud noise that had just thumped above her. She waited for it, and when it thumped again, she started up the stairs carefully. She expected to see her mother through her bedroom door trying to feng shui her room.
“Do you need some-” she began, pushing open the door and stopped dead when she found her mother and Danny Currant naked on her mother’s dirty sheets.
Their necks were craned to see who had interrupted them. For a moment nobody moved.
Somebody spoke, but Bryn didn’t stick around to listen. She slammed the door and ran down the hall to the room she shared with Ellie.
She jerked the handle and ran into the locked door.
“Ellie open the fucking door!” she screamed. She kicked it and pushed it open, sending an old wooden desk chair halfway across the room.
As the door creaked to a close upon its return after hitting the wall, Bryn caught a glimpse of her sister and Lucas quickly buttoning up their clothes and flattening down their make out hair.
“Is everyone having sex?” She yelled doing an about face to the stairwell. She looked back just in time to see both her mother’s and Ellie’s faces as they figured out what the other had been doing.
“Bryn wait!” Ellie called, leaning over the railing on the landing at the top of the stairs.
Bryn looked up at her sister and loathed her. “Why the hell should I? You’re busy, Mom’s busy. Maybe pretend to care after the guilt is gone.”
“Bryn stop right now!” her mother yelled, pulling her terry cloth housecoat together at the throat.
“No!” she screamed, running out the front door.
There was a moment where, as Bryn stood helplessly confused and angry in the middle of the street deciding where to go, everything made sense. The birds were singing and the sky was blue, and those weren’t tears in her eyes, they were a sign that she was human after all.
But upon the realization that nothing made sense, Bryn collapsed. The front door opened and a line of people sprinted in her direction. She saw her mother whip around and yell at Ellie, “Get back inside. I’ll deal with you later.”
Bryn stood and started down the street, first as a limping run, then at full speed. She didn’t care where, she just needed to run.
She heard a car behind her and as she slowed to let it pass, it stopped beside her. She recognized the make and model and the woman who was getting out. Angelica left the door open as she went after her daughter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her teeth gritted. She had caught Bryn by the arm and made sure not to loosen the grip.
“What am I doing? You were the one fucking my best friend’s father-”
“Your dead best friend.”
“Fuck you.” Bryn jerked her arm away and walked faced paced to the end of the street.
“Get back here now.”
“Why do you even care Mom? Your good daughter was at home this whole time doing the same thing you were and you had the nerve to tell me that I should go on birth control.”
“You’re not being rational.”
“No you’re not being rational. He’s married. Married. I thought you would’ve had more class than that,” Bryn yelled, bawling.
Her mother came closer. “Don’t you ever-”
“And don’t ever talk about Jen that way. You fucking bitch! I hate you!” she screamed.
Bryn turned and ran out of sight, leaving her mother standing in the street, hand over mouth and crying.
<><><>
March 13
Jen tried to keep herself calm. She slammed the door of Connor’s car and hoped he would just drive away. She got to the door, quietly unlocked it and heard his voice from across the yard yell something. She quickly closed the door and bolted the lock.
As if it’ll do anything, she thought.
Jen concentrated on Connor’s car driving away slowly. He was watching her and she felt disgusting.
She was cold. The night had been cold. The boy had been cold.
Her breathing increased, as did her pulse and she was sure she would collapse right then. Jen grabbed onto the side of a desk and closed her eyes.
“It’s over,” she told herself. The words provided no solace. They were only words.
What if it isn’t over? What if he wants to try something like that again? He can’t. But he would. I know he would.
There was an unmistakable voice of a woman cooing some French line. There then was a grumbling laughter of a man who seemed to need to clear his throat.
“Dad?” Jen asked out loud to herself.
“I think there’s someone there,” the woman said.
“Nah, no one’s there. C’mon, keep moving.”
“Dad?” Jen asked the room on the verge of tears.
“Shit. Jen is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on up to your room. You’re past curfew.”
“I was going anyways,” she grumbled.
“Then do it.”
“That’s not very nice,” the woman said.
“What? D’you want an introduction? Jen this is Candy. Candy, Jen.” He laughed.
Jen was still leaning against the wall and couldn’t see either of them. They whispered and Jen couldn’t make it out, then came the laughter.
God, they’re laughing at me.
“Well are you going to bed or what?”
Jen ran up the stairs, keeping her eyes on a spot at the top as to avoid seeing her father with another stripper. She got to her room and fell backwards on her bed, her arms spread out like an angel.
“Soon,” she said, thumbing her soft sheets. “Soon.”
She sat up suddenly and grabbed her journal.
It seemed that the pen’s ink moved too slow, that the pen itself was stuck and her thoughts were leaving her mind so quickly.
I need to get it all down. I need some proof. He’s not gonna get away with it. He can’t.
An hour later, she gave up. She needed sleep. After everything that happened that night, she deserved rest.
Maybe it’ll all be different tomorrow. Maybe.
<><><>
Chapter 4
Later that week the principle, Mrs. Dann, decided that it had would be appropriate for the grief stricken student body to participate in a memorial.
At half past one, everyone assembled into the gym.
Mrs. Dann tapped the microphone. “Excuse me, everyone. Your silence would be appreciated.” She looked around while the room quieted. “Thank you. We have come together this afternoon to take a moment and remember one of your peers who has recently passed on.
“I’d like to start off with an Our Father.”
They prayed, and Bryn was called upon.
The room erupted in clapping, more for an excuse to make noise than cheering for her. She walked quickly to the front of the room and breathed deeply as she unfolded the piece of paper she had been given that morning. Her eyes moved rapidly over the words – I’ll always remember…she was the best friend a person could have…she loved it here – and she was disheartened. She couldn’t say those words.
“I didn’t really know what to say, I mean, what do you say when this kind of thing happens?” She looked around at the faces, those stupid, blank faces. They knew nothing about Jen. They could care less.
“I wrote a poem.”
She cleared her throat, brushed the hair out of her eyes and, looking at her own paper, read.
“When I have gone away,
too far to call or touch
I hope you don’t forget me
and recall at least this much:
our hands once came together
and stayed in an embrace
I looked into your eyes
and touched your tired face.
We sang together on the beach
as the waves swam round our feet.
Don’t cry, for I’m not really gone
and once again there we shall meet.”
Bryn touched her face to find it was wet. She had been crying. I didn’t notice. Oh God, I was crying in front of the whole school, oh God. Looking around, she saw that others were crying, girls mostly, but she was not alone.
Her face had flushed, though, and she went quickly back to her seat. Mrs. Dann hurried to the microphone and thanked her. She then called Connor up.
“Jen was my best friend. She was more to me than anything in the world.” He looked up for a dramatic second and returned his gaze to the paper he held. “I know that if she could see just how many people in this room care about her, she would have-” Connor closed his eyes, holding back tears it appeared. Bryn looked to the floor. She didn’t want anyone to feel as bad as she did.
“Well, maybe things would’ve been different.”
He left for the seat beside Bryn. As Mrs. Dann took the microphone, Connor took his friend’s hand.
“To close this afternoon, our religion teacher, Mr. Pertalsky has a prayer for all of us. If we could all stand,” she said, waiting until the whole student body had stood.
Mr. Pertalsky was a shriveled man, small and hunched over with black hair and a five o’clock shadow. He nodded to his colleague as she stepped back.
“Good afternoon everyone. I know we’ve all experienced a tragic loss. Jen Currant was a valued member of our school and she will be forever missed.” He looked up from his paper and paused, holding his hands together as if he were praying. “Forgiveness is something that the world needs more of. Of course, some things are unforgivable. Unfortunately, suicide is one of them. It is a mortal sin, and you can pray until your hands fall off, but she’s in Hell-”
The phys ed teacher pulled him from the microphone. Nobody moved and just as the door to the gym fell shut, there could be heard yelling from the other side. There was no doubt that Mr. Pertalsky would be berated for this.
Mrs. Dann sprinted to the microphone and, frazzled and still shocked, said, “Uh, everyone go to your classes.”
Everyone rose and pushed their way to the doors. Connor grabbed Bryn’s hand and pulled her to the fire escape doors that led outside.
“Come with me,” he said, and they disappeared through the river of people.
They were walking a long time before either spoke. Connor was leading; he seemed to have a destination in mind and Bryn didn’t disagree. Her face was far back in the hood of her sweater and she could feel it burning as the tears subsided.
How could he say that about Jen?
She hated him, wanted to hurt him. She knew he would get punished, though, and that gave her solace enough. Bryn locked her jaw to keep from screaming.
They walked on.
As ten minutes grew to fifteen, and fifteen to thirty, Bryn became impatient. She stopped walking.
“Where are we even going Connor?”
He turned to her, saying, “When you see it, the walk will make up for it.” He returned his attention to a spot straight ahead and started again. The sounds of traffic faded and now only the soft sounds of nature could be heard.
Connor finally stopped.
“Here.”
“Here?”
“Here.”
“We’re in the woods.”
“I know.”
“This is what we walked for almost an hour for?”
“No.” He shook his head, walking further. “Past here, just after the bushes. There’s a spot me and Jen drove to a couple times.”
“It’s not make out creek or anything like that, right?”
“No,” he sighed, smiling. “C’mon.”
He took her hand once more and pushed away some branches that lead to a small clearing that had been hidden.
What’s so special about this place? She wondered, seeing only brown patches of grass, tire treads to the middle of the area, and more dead trees. She stepped in and saw what Connor had been talking about.
Just beyond two naked trees that touched to make an arch at the crest of the hill they stood on, was a small field of wild flowers. A thousand little multicoloured hands waved to her in the wind.
“Connor,” she breathed, bringing her hand to her chest.
He appeared beside her. “I know. When I’m here, it feels like there is only this, only now. No matter what, I’m content here.”
Bryn stepped closer to the trees. “How did you find this place?”
Connor smiled. “I used to play here when I was younger. My dad used to own the field, but when he sold it, I guess the people didn’t keep it up and the flowers took over. Every spring I would come to watch them bloom. And the fireflies. There are fireflies at night.”
She looked at her hands, saddened. “Did she see it?”
“Who?” he asked, approaching her carefully.
“Jen. Did you show this – did you bring her here before she died?”
“Yes.”
“I bet she loved it.”
Connor turned from her. “Actually she didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I guess she just didn’t appreciate it.”
“I’m sure she did. Maybe she just couldn’t really tell you how she felt. You know how she was.” Bryn winced at her words. “I mean-”
“I know. But I sincerely think she didn’t like it. She didn’t really appreciate anything I did for her.”
“Connor,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t mean it that way, but she wasn’t the best at accepting things. I gave her a necklace that day, and she flat out refused it. I don’t even know why.” He sighed, walking the perimeter of the clearing. He stopped beside her and smiled. “But that doesn’t matter. I know that you can appreciate it here the way nobody else could.”
“What d’you mean?” Bryn asked, speaking towards the flowers, thinking hard to remember something. The necklace, where have I heard that before. Something about a necklace. She was still mesmerized by the field, unable to look away, unable to focus.
“What I mean is that you’re something special, Bryn. You’re just, I dunno, just really great. And I know that the timing is right.”
“The timing for what?” Bryn took her eyes from the field and focused on Connor. “What are you talking about?”
“Well… we’re on the same level now. We’re at the same point. We can just … be.”
Her heart fell.
“Were you in love?”
Connor sighed and sat on a fallen tree. “Why do you keep talking about her, Bryn? I thought we were having a good time.”
“I didn’t realize I had to forget her so soon after she died,” she said crossing her arms.
They were quiet. Bryn waited for a reply.
She wanted to hate him. He didn’t deserve to talk about Jen like she was nothing, like she had been some person met in passing and nothing more. Something wouldn’t let her, though. She pitied him, maybe because he had lost her too.
The wind blew and it started to spit.
“I did love her.”
Bryn looked at him. She saw he had been hurt by what she said and she wished he hadn’t.
“But I love you more,” he whispered.
Bryn’s eyes grew wide. She stood perplexed. “You-”
“Yeah.”
“Since when-”
“A while.”
“How long is a while?” she asked, moving closer. “A month?”
“Longer.”
“Two?”
“Longer.”
“A year?” she laughed.
He was quiet.
“A year?” Bryn asked, shocked. “You’ve…loved me… for a year? And you didn’t say anything?”
“I couldn’t. I mean, I was with Jen then. I still loved her. I knew that if I tried to break it off with her, you would be automatically off limits so I stuck it out. Time started to run out and grad is in a few weeks and then we’d all be going away, so I was gonna do it after the spring dance. You know, have one last good memory before the end.”
Bryn looked around helplessly. “You were going to break up after the dance?”
“We both knew it was over.”
“But – a year?”
“I know. I should have said something earlier and maybe things would have turned out different-” Connor cut himself off sharply and stared at Bryn. He swallowed loudly.
“What could be different? You mean with Jen?” She approached him and demanded, “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing!” he yelled. “I was doing nothing. I sat on my ass and watched her come to school with cuts and scars. I ignored it because she hated to talk about it and I thought that if I pretended it wasn’t happening, then it wasn’t.” He sat back on the tree stump and rested his forehead on the heels of his palms. “She was sick and… and I didn’t do anything to help her. I didn’t even try. It’s all my fault.”
Bryn was filled with a mix of relief and pity. “Will, I know how you feel.”
He looked up, red faced, confused. “Will?”
“What?”
“You said Will.”
“You know what I meant.” She stood beside him and rested her hand on his shoulder. He was strong, she could feel it. Her stomach fluttered, but she pushed the feeling aside. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. I must have known for years and I didn’t get her help. I wanted to, but she didn’t want any.”
He wet his lips with his tongue slowly, all the while looking into her eyes. “So I didn’t kill her?” he whispered innocently.
“No.”
She waited, breathing unhurriedly, for anything to happen. I’ll take words, any words. The tension is killing me.
He stood, taking her by the waist, and kissed her. She took him in, his taste, his smell.
Suddenly, something clicked.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this.
She pulled back. “Where are you going?” Connor called through the trees as Bryn ran from him.
When she made it home, out of breath and drained, she leaned up against the door as she closed it.
“Oh God,” she whispered, wondering what she should do.
There’s just too much going on. And what was that at the clearing with Connor? Is there something there I just didn’t see before? I’m really only used to seeing the Connor with Jen. But now without her he’s a completely different person. He’s so…so… sensitive. And he smells great.
But what about Will?
Oh Jesus, I’m in way over my head here. God is Chris gonna be jealous-
Bryn looked at the ceiling, responding to the loud noise that had just thumped above her. She waited for it, and when it thumped again, she started up the stairs carefully. She expected to see her mother through her bedroom door trying to feng shui her room.
“Do you need some-” she began, pushing open the door and stopped dead when she found her mother and Danny Currant naked on her mother’s dirty sheets.
Their necks were craned to see who had interrupted them. For a moment nobody moved.
Somebody spoke, but Bryn didn’t stick around to listen. She slammed the door and ran down the hall to the room she shared with Ellie.
She jerked the handle and ran into the locked door.
“Ellie open the fucking door!” she screamed. She kicked it and pushed it open, sending an old wooden desk chair halfway across the room.
As the door creaked to a close upon its return after hitting the wall, Bryn caught a glimpse of her sister and Lucas quickly buttoning up their clothes and flattening down their make out hair.
“Is everyone having sex?” She yelled doing an about face to the stairwell. She looked back just in time to see both her mother’s and Ellie’s faces as they figured out what the other had been doing.
“Bryn wait!” Ellie called, leaning over the railing on the landing at the top of the stairs.
Bryn looked up at her sister and loathed her. “Why the hell should I? You’re busy, Mom’s busy. Maybe pretend to care after the guilt is gone.”
“Bryn stop right now!” her mother yelled, pulling her terry cloth housecoat together at the throat.
“No!” she screamed, running out the front door.
There was a moment where, as Bryn stood helplessly confused and angry in the middle of the street deciding where to go, everything made sense. The birds were singing and the sky was blue, and those weren’t tears in her eyes, they were a sign that she was human after all.
But upon the realization that nothing made sense, Bryn collapsed. The front door opened and a line of people sprinted in her direction. She saw her mother whip around and yell at Ellie, “Get back inside. I’ll deal with you later.”
Bryn stood and started down the street, first as a limping run, then at full speed. She didn’t care where, she just needed to run.
She heard a car behind her and as she slowed to let it pass, it stopped beside her. She recognized the make and model and the woman who was getting out. Angelica left the door open as she went after her daughter.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her teeth gritted. She had caught Bryn by the arm and made sure not to loosen the grip.
“What am I doing? You were the one fucking my best friend’s father-”
“Your dead best friend.”
“Fuck you.” Bryn jerked her arm away and walked faced paced to the end of the street.
“Get back here now.”
“Why do you even care Mom? Your good daughter was at home this whole time doing the same thing you were and you had the nerve to tell me that I should go on birth control.”
“You’re not being rational.”
“No you’re not being rational. He’s married. Married. I thought you would’ve had more class than that,” Bryn yelled, bawling.
Her mother came closer. “Don’t you ever-”
“And don’t ever talk about Jen that way. You fucking bitch! I hate you!” she screamed.
Bryn turned and ran out of sight, leaving her mother standing in the street, hand over mouth and crying.
<><><>
March 13
Jen tried to keep herself calm. She slammed the door of Connor’s car and hoped he would just drive away. She got to the door, quietly unlocked it and heard his voice from across the yard yell something. She quickly closed the door and bolted the lock.
As if it’ll do anything, she thought.
Jen concentrated on Connor’s car driving away slowly. He was watching her and she felt disgusting.
She was cold. The night had been cold. The boy had been cold.
Her breathing increased, as did her pulse and she was sure she would collapse right then. Jen grabbed onto the side of a desk and closed her eyes.
“It’s over,” she told herself. The words provided no solace. They were only words.
What if it isn’t over? What if he wants to try something like that again? He can’t. But he would. I know he would.
There was an unmistakable voice of a woman cooing some French line. There then was a grumbling laughter of a man who seemed to need to clear his throat.
“Dad?” Jen asked out loud to herself.
“I think there’s someone there,” the woman said.
“Nah, no one’s there. C’mon, keep moving.”
“Dad?” Jen asked the room on the verge of tears.
“Shit. Jen is that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on up to your room. You’re past curfew.”
“I was going anyways,” she grumbled.
“Then do it.”
“That’s not very nice,” the woman said.
“What? D’you want an introduction? Jen this is Candy. Candy, Jen.” He laughed.
Jen was still leaning against the wall and couldn’t see either of them. They whispered and Jen couldn’t make it out, then came the laughter.
God, they’re laughing at me.
“Well are you going to bed or what?”
Jen ran up the stairs, keeping her eyes on a spot at the top as to avoid seeing her father with another stripper. She got to her room and fell backwards on her bed, her arms spread out like an angel.
“Soon,” she said, thumbing her soft sheets. “Soon.”
She sat up suddenly and grabbed her journal.
It seemed that the pen’s ink moved too slow, that the pen itself was stuck and her thoughts were leaving her mind so quickly.
I need to get it all down. I need some proof. He’s not gonna get away with it. He can’t.
An hour later, she gave up. She needed sleep. After everything that happened that night, she deserved rest.
Maybe it’ll all be different tomorrow. Maybe.
<><><>
The End
Well, it is the last Friday of Christmas Break.
I'm not sad. I enjoyed wasting my time, because I knew that if I didn't enjoy it, I would end up being mad that I wasted it. I've accepted that I wasted it.
I mostly played the Sims 2.
I got bored after a while (yesterday, er, maybe this morning) and I have just completed Just Flowers' Chapter 4.
Laura and I watched the Omen (the one with Gregory Peck, not Julia Stiles). I bought the new Brand New CD. I really like it, and I didn't like their earlier work, but I did like their last album. I guess the term "it can only get better from here" was true in this case.
I met a guy, had feelings that I mixed up with other feelings and was depressed for a day or two. It was weird though, because I had the idea for a story that had a similar plotline (I thought of it in the summer, so it's not like I copied what happened). I didn't realize this until the day after I got home, though. But that was something I found interesting.
I did not have my period on Christmas as I originally thought (that means a total of 3, count 'em, 3 days - a record short for my, ahem, cycles).
I have to finish all my crap for applying for college or else it'll be too late.
I hope I get in.
I hope I pass my diplomas.
I hope I pass high school.
Oh God, I'm insecure.
I'm not sad. I enjoyed wasting my time, because I knew that if I didn't enjoy it, I would end up being mad that I wasted it. I've accepted that I wasted it.
I mostly played the Sims 2.
I got bored after a while (yesterday, er, maybe this morning) and I have just completed Just Flowers' Chapter 4.
Laura and I watched the Omen (the one with Gregory Peck, not Julia Stiles). I bought the new Brand New CD. I really like it, and I didn't like their earlier work, but I did like their last album. I guess the term "it can only get better from here" was true in this case.
I met a guy, had feelings that I mixed up with other feelings and was depressed for a day or two. It was weird though, because I had the idea for a story that had a similar plotline (I thought of it in the summer, so it's not like I copied what happened). I didn't realize this until the day after I got home, though. But that was something I found interesting.
I did not have my period on Christmas as I originally thought (that means a total of 3, count 'em, 3 days - a record short for my, ahem, cycles).
I have to finish all my crap for applying for college or else it'll be too late.
I hope I get in.
I hope I pass my diplomas.
I hope I pass high school.
Oh God, I'm insecure.
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