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.

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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.

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