Текст книги "Delayed Penalty"

Автор книги: Sophia Henry

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 26

“What’cha doing?” Kristen asked, sliding a lemonade across the table to me and setting down a drink and a small salad for herself. She had just finished up her shift at Peak City. I’d come over straight from band practice to wait for her shift to end.

“Thanks.” I shoved my empty glass to the side and pulled the new one closer. “I’m trying to write a letter to my grandparents.” I looked up with heavy eyes. “It’s for an assignment, but instead of making up some bullshit thing, I wanted to use real life.”

“You’re the only person I know who puts any thought into their assignments.”

“It’s kind of a requirement for my major.” Which was somewhat true. Most people could take themselves out of the equation. Though my ultimate goal was to help others, especially children affected by a traumatic event, I sometimes wondered if I chose to major in social work as a way to heal myself. Probably should have picked psychology.

“What’s got you stumped?”

“Can’t think of the right thing to write.”

“You’re speaking to them now, aren’t you?”

“Um.” I sunk my teeth into a roll, then pointed to my mouth and shrugged. The old can’t-talk-when-I’m-chewing excuse.

“Can I be honest with you without you pushing me away and never talking to me again?”

I nodded, though my stomach lurched in preparation of what she’d say. So far, only Aleksandr and Kristen could call me out without me blowing up. So far.

“Seriously?” She stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork. I felt bad for the poor iceberg leaf, but was glad it hadn’t been my hand.

I nodded again, the dry roll scraping my throat as I tried to swallow the large chunk I’d bitten off.

“You should write an apology for being such a jerk to them about this Jason thing.”

“What?”

“Look, I agree with you to an extent. How they handled it was shitty. I get that you’re hurt and upset, but you can’t push them away and pretend like you can live without them. Because you can’t. They are your rock. Your tie to family. Your everything. And, not to be morbid, but they won’t be around for much longer. So get over it.” She shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth as if emphasizing her point.

“I don’t know how.”

“Don’t know how to apologize?” She hadn’t finished swallowing before spewing her irritated interjection, and bits of lettuce sprayed onto the table. She brushed her hand across it. “Sorry.”

“I don’t know how to start. I’ve been a jerk since they first took me in,” I admitted before taking a sip of lemonade.

“Well, that’s understandable, considering what happened, Aud,” she told me, her tone softening.

“Yeah, but I was totally two-faced. I was this good student who never got into trouble and would go out of my way to help everyone at school, and then turned into Medusa when I came home. I felt like my grandparents ignored everything I felt when I tried to talk about it. Everything they did ticked me off.”

“I’m sure they were just trying to make life as normal for you as possible. I can’t imagine it was easy to raise you when they were still grieving their daughter. There have been thousands of parenting books written, but I doubt there were any books on how to raise you.” Kristen smiled, but it was hollow and sad. “I’m sure they were trying to do the best they could with the resources they had, you know?”

“How could I have never thought about that before?” I asked, rubbing my eyes with my fingers.

My heart ached for my grandparents in a way it never had before. I was selfish. So wrapped up in my anger about growing up without my mother that I never stopped to think about how it affected them.

That they hadn’t been able to protect my mother must haunt them every day. All the time and effort they’d spent as parents worrying and sheltering their daughter when she was young didn’t stop her from being murdered. It was suddenly easy to understand why they were excessively protective of me.

Why hadn’t they learned? Worrying hadn’t made a difference. They couldn’t stop it. All their protective intentions couldn’t save her. Or me.

“Because you were a child. Children are selfish. Teenagers are selfish. The world revolves around them, right?” Kristen smiled again at me, shaking her head. “We all thought that way, not just you. You’re pretty mature, but you were still a child, Auden.”

“I should have realized. Should have given them a break.” I pulled my glass back to my lips to cover the fact that my eyes were filling with tears. “I was such a complete jerk to them.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You wouldn’t have realized any of this at the time. You can’t see the full picture until you’ve taken a step back and looked at it from the outside.”

“It makes so much sense.” I marked a huge X through the superficial words I’d written. I couldn’t work on it now. I’d have to figure it out once I got a handle on the emotions flooding me.

“And just think, you still have time to make it right.”

“Thanks,” I told her, closing my notebook and shoving it in my bag.

“What else can I solve for you? World peace? Global warming? I’m on a roll.” Kristen held up her drink, and I clinked my glass with hers.

“I’ll let you decide where we’re going out tonight.”

“How about tomorrow? Tonight you’re going to Detroit.”

Chapter 27

Face-planting was not how I usually started my days. Evidently I was so startled by the loud rapping on my door, and disoriented by my surroundings, that I’d rolled right off my bed. I lifted my head and wiped the drool off the side of my mouth, before realizing I had fallen onto the familiar hardwood floor of my childhood bedroom.

When I’d arrived at my grandparents’ house last night, they hadn’t been home, which was odd, because they didn’t have a very active social life. I waited up until eleven p.m. before I’d wandered into my old room and collapsed.

Reluctantly, I got to my knees and lifted myself up. When I opened the door, Grandpa stood in front of me with a sandy brown shoe box in his hand. I stepped aside, and he swept past me. He looked around my room before taking a seat on my bed. I couldn’t remember the last time Grandpa was in my room. Standing in the doorway, a hundred times, but in my room? Not since I was a child.

He patted the bed next to him, and I sat down. He seemed calm. At least I wasn’t getting yelled at—or smacked.

Grandpa removed the lid of the box and pulled out a picture. My mom stood behind a microphone on a stage at Our Lady of the Lakes High School, the place we’d both attended. The wall behind her was blurred out since she was the focal point of the picture, but I could make out a banner, balloons, and streamers.

“Your mom was in a band when she was in high school,” Grandpa finally spoke. “This was her playing at a school dance. Probably one of her first times on stage.”

I sat without speaking, without moving, in shock because my grandfather sat on my bed about to tell me a story I’m sure he never had any intention of sharing with me.

“She loved music and she had a beautiful voice. She and some friends from school got together to play. Just kids having fun. She fell in love with one of the boys in the band. His name was Vince. I thought he was a good kid.” Grandpa rubbed his lips with the palm of his hand, before cupping his chin and taking a deep breath.

“Vince got your mother pregnant when she was fifteen. She shut us out at first, too scared to tell us. But she knew she couldn’t raise a child at fifteen. Vince told her she should have an abortion. But your mother didn’t want that. She wanted to give the child up for adoption. So your grandmother and I took her to a Catholic social services group. Together we interviewed and chose the family who would get the baby.

“And on the day the baby was born, she signed the papers and gave him up. It wasn’t easy for her. But she made the decision because she couldn’t give the boy a life.”

Grandpa rummaged in the box again, pulling out another picture of my mom. This time she was in a hospital bed, her pale lips pressed to the forehead of a tiny, red face peering out of the blanketed bundle in her arms.

“That’s the only picture we have of Baby Boy Berezin. Valerie didn’t name him, of course. A few minutes after that picture was taken he was given to his new parents, who were waiting in the hospital.”

“So this is Jason?”

“Jason? That’s a strong name.” Grandpa looked down, silent for a moment. “Was he the one in the diner when your grandmother and I were there?”

“The one you wouldn’t stop staring at?” I asked.

Grandpa nodded.

“Yeah, that was him. Did you know?”

“No. It never crossed my mind. But he looked familiar. I was trying to place him.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

Grandpa ignored my comment and handed me the shoe box. “These were some pictures of your mom’s. Maybe you’d like to keep them.”

“Can I give this one to Jason?” I held up the one of him and my mom from his birth.

“It’s yours now. You can do whatever you wish.” Grandpa started to get up.

“What about me?” I asked quickly. Since I’d already staged the big confrontation, I wanted all the skeletons out of the closet.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, that’s Jason’s story. What about mine? Did you know my dad? Was he an idiot like Vince?”

“He was.” Grandpa sat back down. “In fact, it was the idiot Vince.”

“What?” I almost snapped my neck, as I instantly turned my attention from the shoe box in my lap to my grandpa’s face.

“She was young and in love.” He chuckled, but the sound was distant and weary. “He said all the right things and she took him back. She was out of the house at that point, so your grandmother and I didn’t know she was seeing him again. We didn’t know they got married.”

“What?” I asked. I felt my eyes bulge from my head. I didn’t know my mom had been married to my sperm donor.

“Yes, well, it didn’t last. As soon as he found out she was pregnant, he left and never came back. Your mom had taken on three jobs before she even told us about her pregnancy, just to prove that she could take care of you on her own.” Grandpa took my hand and looked into my eyes. His expression was soft but pained. I couldn’t imagine what he thought when he looked at me. Probably that I ruined everyone’s life: my mom’s, my sperm donor’s, my grandparents’.

“She loved you, Audushka,” he said, his eyes glassy, as if he’d read my mind. “She loved you so much.”

The tension harbored in my shoulders for fourteen years released in a massive slump. I didn’t realize a simple sentence could be so powerful. My stoic, seemingly unaffectionate grandpa was the first person to tell me my mom loved me. I’m sure everyone assumed I knew how she felt, but since I couldn’t even remember one minute with her, hearing him say it was extraordinary.

“I’m sorry about the way your grandmother and I reacted when you told us about Jason, Audushka. We were startled and didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry we never told you about him. We should have. In all these years, he’d never tried to find us, so we never thought you needed to know.”

The newly confident part of me wanted to ask why they would only tell me if my brother came looking for us. Why didn’t they think having a brother was something I should be aware of no matter what the situation? Though Grandpa and I turned a corner in our relationship, I knew my questions would start a fight, and we’d come too far for me to take it there.

“It just doesn’t seem right,” I said, abandoning my questions and looking at the picture of my mom and Jason instead.

“She loved you, Audushka,” Grandpa said again, squeezing me against his side. “She never once thought about giving you up. She said she could never do that again, which is why she worked her ass off. We helped, of course, if she needed it, but she rarely did. She was a strong, stubborn girl. That’s where you get those qualities, in case you were wondering.”

“Funny, I thought I got them from you.”

Grandpa laughed, which made me happy. I was sick of fighting with my grandparents. Sick of being mad at them. Sick of anger and withdrawal always being my first reactions. I didn’t want to live that way anymore.

But how do you begin to change after being ingrained with ideas for almost twenty years? Maybe I already had changed, because even with Kristen’s insistence, I never would have come here if I hadn’t.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I’m sorry about how I brought it up and how I acted. It was childish and immature.”

“Well, so were we. We should have been prepared. We knew it might come up someday. I promise to be better next time.”

“Next time?” My shoulders stiffened as I wiggled out of Grandpa’s half embrace. “More secrets?”

“No, Audushka, no more secrets. I meant next time we find ourselves in a highly emotional situation, I need to react better.”

“Well, I hope we don’t find ourselves in too many more.” I scavenged through the shoe box, flipping through photos and concert ticket stubs with my index finger. “As long as we’re being honest…”

“Yes?” Grandpa’s tone lowered.

“I, um, I went through that envelope with articles about mom. The one in your locked cabinet upstairs. Sorry for snooping. I was just curious.”

He nodded. “And?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to know what happened.”

“It’s very hard for your grandmother and me to talk about.” Grandpa cleared his throat. “But you can ask us questions if you have any.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it and shook my head.

“You sure?”

I nodded. “I just wanted to be honest.”

“Thank you. You have grown up, Audushka. Your mother would be very proud of the woman that you are.”

With that, I buried my face into Grandpa’s shoulder, wrapping both arms around him in a massive bear hug. I almost felt bad soaking his navy blue Michigan University Language Department polo with tears. Almost.

Your mother would be very proud of the woman that you are.

Every kid wants to hear their parents say they love them and are proud of them, but it’s especially crucial for those of us who don’t have parents. Like forgotten fish, we race to the top of our bowl, desperately chomping the water for flakes of love to fill us up.

Chapter 28

“Here.” I threw a candy necklace at Kristen. The candy necklace was a prop we’d used in our younger days when we were on the prowl for men. What hot-blooded male wouldn’t want to nuzzle up to a girl and bite a piece of candy off her neck?

“Auden, I don’t think we should use these tonight,” she warned, twirling the necklace around her index finger.

“Come on, KK. You’re the one who said I needed to get back out there.” Though I dreaded using the necklace myself, I knew Kristen would in order to help me get over Aleksandr. Even if I had to pull out the big guns to make it happen.

“This isn’t what I meant.”

I ignored her and ran my straightener through the final section of my hair before sliding smoothing serum over the strands. I checked my outfit in the mirror as I wiped the greasy hair product remains on a towel.

Once Kristen and I had both finished getting ready, we grabbed our drinks and walked to the apartment next door where Scott, Lacy’s boyfriend, lived with three other guys. I had forgiven Scott for the whole bringing-a-friend-who-tried-to-drug-me fiasco, but I was still leery of him. It was business as usual to keep my guard up around him again.

“Damn, ladies!” one of Scott’s roommates called out when we walked in the apartment. He hit a button on his CD player and the mellow hum at the beginning of Blackstreet’s “No Diggity” filled the room. It was Kristen’s favorite song. Yet another reason we’d become best friends—our shared love of nineties music.

Lacy and the guys were playing “I Never,” a drinking game in which someone says they’ve never done something and everyone who has done it must drink. There were two ways to play. We could say something we thought was outlandish to see who had done it. Or we lied and said something everyone has done so the group got drunk quicker. The latter seemed to be the case with tonight’s game.

“I’ve never been drunk,” Scott lied, and tipped his beer back along with the rest of us.

“I’ve never been to a party.” Kristen raised her beer so we could all toast before taking another long drink.

“I’ve never fucked an—” Bobby began. I didn’t hear him finish because Brett, the guys’ fourth roommate, pushed through the door.

“Hey, man! Pull up a seat.” Scott slid Brett a chair from the kitchen table with his foot.

Brett was one of Central State’s star rugby players. I’d known him since freshman year because he lived on the floor below Kristen and me in the dorms.

“Drink, Auden. We all know you’re fucking a hockey player,” Chad teased me.

“I didn’t even hear what Bobby said.” I’d laughed at the previous responses in the game, but scowled when Chad mentioned a hockey player.

“I said, I’ve never fucked an athlete,” Bobby repeated.

Oh good, now everyone was listening.

“And I said drink because you’re fucking Varenkov.” Chad saluted me with his beer. I know the guys didn’t mean any harm. They didn’t know Aleksandr and I had broken up.

“Was. I was fucking a hockey player,” I mumbled, and tried to drop the subject by lifting my beer to my lips.

“What?” Bobby and Chad asked in unison.

“Lace, did you remember to get more milk?” Kristen asked, steering the conversation from Aleksandr to our grocery needs.

Worst diversion ever.

“I’m single and on the prowl.” I pulled the candy necklace away from my neck with my thumb and shimmied in my seat, feigning excitement about it.

“You should fuck Brett,” Scott said with a wink. “I hear he’s good.”

So had I, but hearing Scott say it was just plain comical, since his current girlfriend was the one who’d told me all about how good Brett had been in bed. Lacy had slept with Brett before she’d started dating Scott, of course. It was all so soap-opera incestual in our group of friends. Kristen dated Scott freshman year. Lacy hooked up with Brett around the same time. That had been before Scott and Brett joined the same fraternity and met each other, but still. The guys we knew were like a joint, everyone took a turn and passed it on.

“Leave her alone,” Brett said, snapping his Heineken bottle cap at Scott.

“Ow, dude!” Scott winced as the green cap bounced off his forehead.

I couldn’t deny Brett was hot. Dark blond hair, bronze eyes, a square jaw, and a large, muscular rugby player’s body—what’s not to like? Instead of staring at the rock-hard thighs I’d previously been between, I downed my beer and opened another. The “I Never” game continued.

Did I forget to mention my being between Brett’s rock-hard thighs before? Freshman year was my wild and crazy, I’m-away-from-my-overprotective-grandparents-for-the-first-time part of my life. I’d been ecstatic when Brett invited me to his dorm to watch a movie. Unbeknownst to me, “watching a movie” was eighteen-year-old boy slang for heavy making out on a lumpy futon. It was the first time I’d ever made out. It was the first time I’d ever kissed a guy. Being nestled between Brett’s hard—but not as hard as their current state—thighs, kissing and exploring, was pretty damn awesome. Until he wanted to go further, and I didn’t. Having his palm on my boob was further than I wanted to go, but I let it happen anyway.

I spilled every ounce of my guts to Kristen when I got back to our dorm. I couldn’t stop talking about Brett. We made plans A and B for how I should act when I saw him next. We made plans C and D for what to say when he asked me over again. But Brett didn’t invite me over again. In fact, he barely even spoke to me when I saw him in the elevator or dining hall.

Kristen said not to worry about it. He was a prick for expecting me to have sex with him on our first date. Except that it turned into a bit of a pattern with men. When I thought a guy liked me, I agreed to go out with him, and make out and not have sex, because I wasn’t ready to have sex. I’d even tried a no-kissing-on-the-first-date rule. Same result. The second date never came.

That’s when I realized it was me. It had to be me, right?

After we’d finished pre-partying, Kristen and I split from Lacy and the boys because we wanted to hang out at a party at my bandmates’ house. Plus, we wanted to stop at a few places on the way because I needed to find guys to bite the candies off my necklace. It was sad and desperate to need a man, other than Aleksandr, to find me attractive.

–

It was almost two in the morning when Kristen and I stumbled in the door of the house my bandmates shared. We’d gotten slightly caught up in parties, and may have taken a detour to have a drink at the Thorne before hitting up the guys’ house.

Aaron and Greg sat on the atrocious, light green couch littered with gaudy pink flowers. A large, black beanbag sat on the floor between the front door and the couch. I knew it was black because I’d been here before, but I could barely see it at the moment, since Josh and whoever he had pinned down covered most of it.

“Better late than never, eh, Aud?” Aaron looked up from the guitar he was strumming. It was a relief to be in the company of guys I trusted, rather than a guy who had friends who drugged me and a guy who stopped speaking to me when I wouldn’t fuck him.

Though I knew the beanbag was there, I still tripped over it on my way to the couch. Thankfully I hadn’t interrupted Josh eating the face off what I’d assumed was a girl, and not a shiny, brunette mop. Taking a huge step to clear the beanbag, I collapsed onto the spot Aaron and Greg had cleared between them.

“Jesus, Auden,” Greg said, helping me straighten up. “I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I drink,” I said as I wiggled into the couch cushion. “Just not much. Usually.”

“Come on over, KK.” Aaron set his guitar on the floor, leaning it against the arm of the couch. He patted his thighs. “You know you want to sit on my lap.”

“You know it, A-A-Ron.” Kristen laughed but joined us on the couch, avoiding Josh’s love bag by mere inches. She took her spot on Aaron’s lap, as a joke, I think. She’d never mentioned an interest in Aaron.

My head fell back against the couch and I closed my eyes. I probably could have passed out if the room hadn’t been spinning. I opened my eyes to focus on Greg. “You don’t look as drunk as the rest of us.”

“I’m not. My mom’s in town. We did the whole dinner-and-a-movie thing.” Greg tipped his beer back.

“Aww, date night with Mom.” I smiled.

“Looks like you did well tonight.” Greg pointed his bottle at the few candy rings remaining on the necklace.

“Not gone yet,” I told him, pulling the elastic string away from my neck and holding it out to him. “Wanna help?”

Kristen leaned over. “Don’t do it, Greg.”

I knew she was looking out for me, and I appreciated it. But how could I get past Aleksandr if I never got back into the singles scene?

“I’m all here, KK,” I assured her, trying to tap my temple and poking myself in the eye instead. “Don’t worry about me.”

Greg ignored Kristen’s warning and leaned over to bite a piece of candy off, teeth grazing my neck as he nuzzled. It made me tingle. He looked up at me, chewing slowly.

“Don’t you want to finish me off?” I asked.

Greg nodded, eyes glowing like a cat’s in the dark.

I groaned when someone’s full body weight crushed my stomach. Kristen crawled across my lap and situated herself between me and Greg.

“No!” she said, her head swiveling between us. “You”—she poked Greg in the chest—“don’t touch her candies.”

“She can do what she wants, Kristen.” Greg pushed her hand away.

“She’s fucking drunk, Greg. She wouldn’t be all over you any other way.”

Greg shot up from the couch, his brown eyes narrowed at me.

“Aw, shit,” Aaron hissed.

“Fucking drama. That’s all you’ve been,” Greg spat at me.

“What?” I asked. A giggle escaped my lips.

“You come here drunk and lead me on, but bring your friend as a fucking cock block. What’s that all about?”

“It’s just candy, Greg. Don’t get your panties in a wad because I don’t have feelings for you.” I yawned.

“Your fucking boyfriend punched me.”

“Dude, stop,” Josh interrupted. He’d unwound himself from his girl but was still sprawled across the beanbag. The girl he’d been mauling stared at us with wide eyes, obviously bewildered a fight had started amid her ecstasy.

“You tried to kiss me right in front of him!” I stood up, meeting him eye-to-eye. “And you showed him that fucking poem that was none of your business.”

“Oh, yeah, that was all my fault. The poem you wrote that you blamed me for.”

“Calm the fuck down,” Aaron said, trying to help Josh defuse the situation.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” I shook my head. “Come on, KK.”

“You know what, Auden?” Greg ignored his friends. “We don’t need your drama.”

“My drama? My drama?”

“I think we should take a break.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Josh spoke up, letting go of his girl this time.

“Exactly what I said. The band needs a break from Auden.”

Stunned into silence, I could only stare at Greg. The usually unnoticeable crunch of the beans were deafening as Josh’s girl shifted on the beanbag in the soundless room.

1.  Dad

2.  Mom

3.  Soccer team

4.  Aleksandr

And this would be major abandonment number five.

Not that I’m counting.