First Loves: A Collection of Three YA Novels Page 18

  My heart’s beating way harder than I want it to, and my bag slips in my hands a few times as I scan the circle and try to find a seat where no one will notice me. A stupid thing to try and accomplish in a circle, especially because I don’t want to be the girl just standing alone in the middle of the room.

  “Your hair is amazing,” the older woman says.

  “Thanks.” I sit and pull my phone out of my pocket so I can be busy while I wait for this thing to start. Tension from being here, and not wanting to be here, tingles in my chest. I lean forward, letting my curly hair fall down around me, knowing my makeup probably doesn’t do as good of a job as I want it to in covering the bruise on my face.

  How cliché for me to step into this kind of class while still bruised up. I wish I could put a sign across my chest that says, This bruise was all a ridiculous misunderstanding. Really, my dad’s making me come, or I wouldn’t be here because I don’t have to be.

  I scroll through my texts. There are a lot from Shawn. The first one I look at was the one from after Thanksgiving where he apologized for not remembering the night before. I hit erase. I keep reading. How didn’t I see that all he was ever trying to do was make me feel bad?

  SHAWN: Hope you’re enjoying play practice. Wish I didn’t have to work, but you know…

  SHAWN: Wish I saw you more. Cut back my hours, but you’re so busy…

  SHAWN: Where are you? Didn’t rehearsal finish like ten minutes ago?

  SHAWN: I know this is your thing, and I wish we could do more stuff, but you should get to do what you really want to.

  I hit erase over and over and over.

  LUKE: Dress rehearsal was amazing. You were perfect. All your hard work paid off. So crazy proud of you.

  My eyes close. Luke. I miss him, like this comfortable everyday part of me that just isn’t here anymore. But more than that. More than just comfortable. Like I learned I loved him too late, and was too stupid about it when I did figure out I loved him.

  “It looks like we’re ready to start.” A grey-haired woman in a too-large pair of navy slacks is standing in front of her chair. “This class is once a week for the next eight weeks, and I hope we all get a chance to get to know one another.”

  My eyes float around the room. No one looks weird, or crazy, or like they should be in jail. Not that you have to look a certain way to be in jail or anything. I don’t know. It’s just not what I expected. They’re all so normal.

  A few more women are sitting next to people they’re chatting with, friends I guess. I wonder, do they just keep coming, even though they’ve done the six-week course before? Do they come back again and again? I’m not sure.

  We go around the circle and introduce ourselves. Easy enough. No one has to stand up and say, I’m Ronnie. My boyfriend hit me a few times. None of that.

  “We’re just getting warmed up here.” She smiles. I’m mad at myself for letting everyone’s names wash through me without paying more attention. At least when I’m forced to come again next week I would have been able to use a few names—not that I’d want to talk to anybody.

  “Close your eyes. I want you to think of someone you know who makes you feel safe.”

  My phone is still clutched in my left hand. I force myself to slide it back in my pocket. It also gives me some time to look around and see if people are actually closing their eyes. They are.

  Just before I relax enough to close mine, I see a girl across the circle watching me. We smile. She closes her eyes first and then I let mine follow.

  “Okay, I want you to find your safe place. Somewhere you love. Someone you trust. Anything.”

  I see Dad first, and then I see Ben. Funny. Guess I do trust my brother, even though he generally irritates the crap out of me.

  “Somewhere you always love to be. Or someone you love to be with. Someone who is good for you.”

  My brain fills in the rest. Someone who knew my secret before I understood it.

  Luke.

  He’s it. He’s there.

  Juliet loved Romeo. But Ronnie loves Luke.

  How long have I not been in love with Shawn? I’ve loved Shawn, but was it really Shawn? Or just the idea of him? The kid I met at the beach when our parents got together, and the guy who was part comfort because I’d known him so long, and part mystery because we didn’t live near one another for years.

  More importantly, how long have I loved Luke, really? I can’t think of a time when I didn’t love Luke in some way or another.

  “If your person is a man, and is not your brother, cousin, father, or granddad, finds someone else.” She chuckles. A few women chuckle along with her.

  Okay. No Luke. I bring myself to the beach. That’s easy. The small house we rent when Mom and Dad can afford it. The problem is that as soon as I’m in that house and on the beach, Luke’s there too. Or, Shawn is.

  We’re asked to open our eyes. Two women share stories. They’ve both come to the six-weeks before. One talks about how her boyfriend was drinking and tried to take things too far, but she just stood up and walked away. Women around the circle gasp.

  I almost open my mouth to tell her that’s nothing. Shawn did worse to me the night he ripped my underwear off. Just as I’m about to speak—I don’t.

  Whoa, another wave of something big and unfamiliar blows through me. I have a story.

  My eyes scan the room again. I belong here. I can’t believe I belong here. Now there’s not enough air in the room, but I force my lungs outward enough to not panic. Passing out on my first day here would be a bit over the top.

  When class is over I can’t stand up and leave soon enough. I don’t want to be part of this group, part of these people. I just want to be Ronnie Bird. High school student. Sometimes high school actress. Daughter of good parents. Sister of Ben. Friend to Mindy. Simple. Me.

  Instead, I’m Ronnie—the girl who let a boy hit her because she was stupid enough to love him.

  I don’t have words when I get home. What do I think? I have no idea. It’s just another experience that sort of puts me into shock.

  “How was it?” Dad asks quietly as I step inside the house.

  I glance behind him to see Mom and Ben watching a movie on the couch. My feet force me to stop, but there are really no words in my head right now. Not for Dad. Not for anyone.

  We stand still, just watching one another for a moment. Then I walk to my room and close the door. How am I supposed to explain how hollowed out, shocked and humiliated I am to my father?

  I turn on my computer, such an ordinary thing to do. But I don’t feel ordinary. Not anymore. Did the group help? Make it worse? I don’t want to be one of those women, but the reality of it all is that I am. I am one of those women. Why is it that I can sit there and listen to their stories and know exactly what they should have done, but had no idea what to do in my own story? My story that’s my LIFE. If it’s so important, why didn’t I know what to do?

  Even though the thought is terrifying, and all I can see of him is how I broke him in my driveway, I decide to send Luke an email.

  Luke –

  It sucks that I’m afraid to write you. Not your fault. All mine. You were right. I wasn’t acting. I love you. It kills me to think about how much I love you, how many ways I love you. I’ve loved you as a friend since you’ve been my friend, and I wasn’t there for you, not when it mattered. Even this year, on Thanksgiving, I should have really heard what you said about your dad. Instead, all I could think about was how much I didn’t want to talk about Shawn.

  I wanted so much more from you and didn’t see it. When I think about that day lying with you on the floor, I wish I could change it. I wish I could have had your arms wrapped around me, and mine around you. I wish that the first time we kissed as Romeo and Juliet I would have told you that I didn’t feel like Juliet in that moment. I felt like Ronnie. I did that whole play as Ronnie, the girl in love with Luke. And I guess, just like them, we don’t get the happy ending we deserve. I guess that
means I’m not your happy ending, and it hurts. It hurts more than losing Shawn. Way more.

  I loved you both and it wasn’t fair to any of us.

  Shawn hit me hard when I tried to break up with him. I didn’t go to his house the night you dropped me off. The night you told me you loved me, so many parts of me wanted to run with you and never look back, but I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself for that either. I spoke to your mom, and I swear my heart dropped when she said you were gone. I didn’t go see Shawn until after.

  He put me in the hospital, Luke. Concussion. I’m okay. He’s in jail. I missed you over Christmas. Mom made her chocolate popcorn, and it just wasn’t the same without you here. I know I’m just unspeakably selfish.

  There are a million better ways I could have handled everything. So, for whatever it’s worth, I love you. I hope you and your dad come to a good understanding. I hope your first semester of college is as amazing as it should be. I can’t believe we won’t share our senior year. But I guess that’s the point, right? That I screwed up so badly you don’t want your senior year here?

  I’m trying to figure out who I am without Shawn, and who I am without you. And I’m still the same girl, but hopefully I’m a little smarter than the girl who got into this mess. And it is a mess.

  Take care of yourself, Luke. You are special and amazing. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it until it was too late.

  I love you. Ronnie

  It’s five torturous hours before I get an answer—almost midnight. The whole time I’m angry at myself for not just calling, but I’m too afraid of what he’d sound like. Heartbroken. Indifferent. Angry. I can’t handle it. I wonder if everything would be easier if I knew Luke was three hours West, missing and loving me the way I am him.

  Ronnie –

  I’m so sorry you got hurt. It’s like I should have been there or something. I’m an idiot for not telling someone about Shawn right away, I just couldn’t stand the thought of you being angry at me. I wanna kill him. Let me know when you’re ready to talk again and hopefully I will be, too. Even though I miss you, I need a little more space.

  I’m glad you have a chance to figure things out while you’re on your own. I can’t imagine not having you in my life in some way or another. I miss you in a way that I shouldn’t. It’s probably not good for either of us right now. It’s killing me to stay away. Guess that doesn’t really make sense when I just said I needed space, huh? But you know what it’s like to be filled with confusion to overflowing. You chose him over me—it just sucked and still hurts.

  I’m taking eighteen credits and working almost a full workweek. I know I’ll be sort of running myself into the ground, but it’ll help. I feel better, slowly. I’m glad you’re getting back on track. I guess I am, too. It’s like I still don’t know how to take a deep breath. I hope you get what you need in order to feel like yourself again. I'm not there yet.

  Luke

  Luke’s letter is a rejection. Let him know when I’m ready to talk and hopefully he will be, too. Space? How am I supposed to take that? Tears make thick, silent trails down my cheeks. Of course he needs space. Everyone should want space from me. I obviously ruin everything I touch.

  I roll out of bed. No way I’m sleeping right now. My first day back at school is tomorrow, and I’m sure rumors are flying. Dad suggested I come up with a simple explanation that would satisfy curiosity. There is no simple explanation.

  The house is dark and quiet as I step through the living room. Hushed voices carry from the kitchen.

  “I should know what to do,” Dad whispers.

  “Maybe she just needs time,” Mom replies.

  I take two more steps and see a faint light. I stop.

  “How did I not see it?” Mom sniffs.

  “I mean, this is my job,” Dad says. “I knew something was up. I just…I didn’t know.”

  And isn’t this even more confirmation that I’ve hurt everyone around me? My silence over the past few days affected them more than I thought. I turn quietly around and go back to my room. There will be no sleeping tonight.

  ~ 22 ~

  “Thanks for picking me up.” I flop down in Mindy’s car. Just a few weeks ago, I was still walking with Luke and Shawn.

  “Of course.” She smirks. “I shouldn’t have to endure the first day back at school alone.”

  “Where’s Paul?” I ask.

  “Taking his own car.” She shrugs. “I don’t want to be with him every second, you know? I need my own stuff.”

  “Right.” Only all I’ve ever done is find ways to be close to Shawn. So I really don’t understand.

  “I can barely see your bruise through your makeup, and I’m totally looking for it.” She leans forward.

  “Is that supposed to be encouraging?” I ask, checking my reflection, again, and still wishing I never had to go back to school.

  “Yep.” She grins and sits up taller, looking smug.

  I let out a breath. “Thanks.”

  My eyes follow the familiar houses along the familiar route to school. But it all feels surreal, unfamiliar. I’m different. Life is different. Like I’m not really Ronnie, I’m the broken up shell of whatever’s left of Ronnie.

  “Don’t worry.” Mindy’s eyes try to catch mine. “It won’t be that bad.”

  “Right.”

  She’s silent. She has no idea.

  ~ ~ ~

  We’re sitting in first period art and I’m afraid to look at anyone, as if they’ll know by my eyes everything that happened.

  “Hey, Ronnie.” Alan calls from the back. “I heard Shawn’s in jail because of you.”

  My gut sinks. That’s pretty much as bad as it gets.

  “No, asshole.” Mindy swivels in her seat. “They got in a fight. Shawn’s in jail because he’s a big prick and Ronnie isn’t.” She sticks out her tongue. Maybe hoping some amount of immaturity will diffuse the tension.

  It works.

  I grab her in a sideways hug, not looking back, and kiss her on the cheek.

  ~ ~ ~

  When I walk in from school, Dad’s on the couch in front of the TV. This is new. He’s supposed to be at work.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Your mom is almost done with her current project, so she’ll be late.” His eyes only meet mine briefly.

  “Not with Mom, Dad. With you.” I drop my pack and sit next to him.

  “Just needed a day. We all do sometimes.” His eyes slowly float to me. I hate seeing the sadness there.

  “Please stop this.” Dad being home like a bum in front of the TV is somehow about me, I just know it, and it’s a reminder that I messed up.

  “What?”

  “I heard you talking to Mom the other night.” That should be enough to prompt some sort of explanation.

  He looks down. “I should have seen, Ronnie. Been more forceful. And there’s no way I should have let you go to Shawn’s house by yourself.”

  “You were trying to give me the space I needed, Dad. Nothing wrong with that.” It’s so weird being in the position of trying to make him feel better.

  “There is when it ends in something like this.” His wide fingers touch the outside of my eye.

  “Dad, I didn’t think it would end like this.”

  “If you hate your group…” he breathes out. “I mean, I know it would be good for you, but if you hate it and want to push it off, you can. But you have to know I’ll be over-protective of you in the meantime.”

  “Dad, I’d rather just go than have you feel all weird about it. I don’t want home to be uncomfortable.” I pull my legs onto the couch and stare at my knees as I wrap my arms around my calves.

  “I know you don’t want to do it, Ronnie. But the class will help you way more than seeing someone like me.” Dad’s eyes are on me, but it’s too much. Too intense right now.

  “I know.” I think again about that lady’s story, and how I almost stood up and told mine because hers seemed so tame. It’s so weird that
this part of my life is slowly becoming real—something that actually happened.

  ~ ~ ~

  I shake up the last of the caramel popcorn before bringing it out to watch TV with Mom, Dad and Mindy. One week of school down. Group therapy tomorrow. Life is not at all how I expected it to be last semester, but I’m living it, and we’re okay.

  “What is this?” I wrinkle my nose at the TV.

  “Some new courtroom thing.” Mindy rolls her eyes. “My parents love it, too, but your house comes with popcorn.”

  “Right.” I sit next to her and she and I dig in like we always do; like if it takes us longer than five minutes to eat the bowl, the rest of the popcorn may disappear. But as I watch, a thought occurs to me.

  “What happens if Shawn wants a trial?” My eyes find Dad’s.

  He swallows once (never a good sign) and exchanges a brief glance with Mom. “Then you’ll be asked to testify.”

  “Right.” My body goes numb. Bad, icky, tingly numb. “This all just sort of sucks, doesn’t it?” I’m so glad Mindy’s here right now.

  “It pretty much does.” Her blonde head rests on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll help ya.”

  Right. I have Mom, Dad, Mindy, and even Ben if I ever asked him for something. The thought of sitting in the witness chair and talking about what happened between Shawn and me pretty much goes on a list of things I never, ever want to put in my notebook. Funny that most of the things on my never-ever list are things I didn’t even know should be there until they happened.

  ~ ~ ~

  After a few weeks at school the questions are gone; the looks are starting to fade. I spend more time on my homework than I ever have. I do theater again. Arsenic and Old Lace this time around. I’m playing one of the old ladies. I have no desire to play someone in love. And this time, when I step into rehearsal, I know people. I get smiles and congratulations on my role.