That was the day I lost a piece of myself. The day I lost him.
I blink my eyes, remembering where I am. When I am. My face is wet. I reach up and wipe my cheek. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s a distant memory now. I whisper his name into the darkness of my room just so I can hear it.
~*~
Two days later, as talk of Shelby Borelli’s death spreads like wild fire through our small town, I feel nothing but sadness. Old Mrs. Barnes, who owns Barnes’ Fabrics, rants to Mom about “What an awful mother Shelby had been to those poor children,” and “Shelby’s own father is rumored as refusing to attend the memorial,” and “Shelby’s daughter never had much respect for her mother.” But I can’t think of an unkind thing to say about the woman.Not anymore anyway. After all, Shelby Borelli conceived, carried, and gave birth to Benjamin Borelli. Someone capable of blessing the world with his presence could not be all that bad and should surely be missed. The horrible grief I’m feeling for Benji is sitting in my chest like a lead weight.
I wish I could hug him and tell him how sorry I am. I wish I could just see him, know he’s okay. I wish… I wish too much.
I turn away from Mrs. Barnes as she spews her venomous gossip all over Mom. Staring out the window, I see Kameron coming out of Borelli’s Grocery. I call to Mom and duck out the door. The sun is bright and I shield my eyes with one hand while I wave the other at Kam.
She notices immediately and makes a mad dash across the street right for me, her chestnut curls bobbing up and down. She’s panting, her cheeks pink and her gray eyes bright with excitement. “You will never, ever believe what I just found out,” she says breathlessly.
“Not more gossip. Kam you’re seriously going to end up like Mrs. Barnes. Do you know she just ‘adopted’ another cat? Her yard is turning into one giant litter box. Is that what you want your future to look like?” I thrust my thumb over my shoulder, pointing toward the store where my mom nods her head repeatedly while Mrs. Barnes’ arms wave erratically.
With nothing short of pure horror evident on her face, Kameron’s mouth drops open and she swats her hands at me. “Look, Briar, this is some deep down juicy bit of info I came across and I thought you, in particular, would find it quite interesting. But, alas, I will zip my lips and not burden you with the recent developments regarding one Mr. Benjamin Borelli.” She swipes her hands across each other, dusting them clean, and pretends to zip and lock her lips before throwing an invisible key over her shoulder.
My mouth drops open with a pop. I can feel my eyes grow wide as I stare at her. My stomach churns at the mere utterance of his name. With the speed of a snake striking its prey, my hand shoots out, clutching Kameron’s arm.
“Close your mouth before you catch a bug,” she says smugly.
“I didn’t mean it, Kam. I’m sorry. Spill your guts.”
She scrutinizes me with dangerous eyes. “I don’t know if I should. You really hurt my feelings, Briar.”
“Oh, shut the hell up. You know I love you. Now don’t torture me. Not about this.”
Kam flips her hair, sighing dramatically. “All right, but first, I think you need to remind yourself who your best friend is.”
“You are,” I say immediately.
“And even though we’ve watched other BFF’s break apart over the years, dropping the extra F, whose friendship has stayed closely intact?” She licks her lips and smiles wickedly.
I can’t take it anymore. “Up until this moment, ours has,” I growl.
Ignoring me, Kam continues. “Now tell me you love me again.”
I roll my eyes. “I love you, bitch. Now spill before I hurt you.”
“Well, my mom had me run to Borelli’s to get her a pair of pantyhose. Did you know they started selling those there? I didn’t know people even still wore those things. I can’t wear them—way too scratchy. Anyway, can I just tell you how annoying it is that she thinks I’m her slave and not her daughter?”
“No, you’re going the wrong way. Come back to me, Kam. Benji, remember?” I wave my hands at her in frustration. She is so easily sidetracked, which normally I would find endearing, but right now just makes me want to bitch-slap her.
“Right, sorry.” She shakes her head and smiles at me in apology. “So anyways, there I am, standing in line to pay for Mom’s pantyhose, which is taking forever because even though they added that other register like a month ago, they still only ever have one opened… Sorry, sorry,” she stammers when I shoot her a hostile look.
“So I’m in the line and Blaine Depriest, being the über horn-dog that he is, asks Mr. Borelli where Payton is. And he told him that she would be back in a day or so, and I quote, ‘After she gets those brothers of hers.’” Kameron makes a show of blowing on her perfectly polished nails and rubbing them across her shirt.
“Now, I’m not a scientist or anything, but the only brothers I know of are Benji and Jaxon. And I mean it makes sense, right? With their mom dying, they probably want to be with family. I have a very strong feeling that they’re moving back and this is not just a weekend visit at Grandpa’s house. This is big news,” she finishes breathlessly.
My stomach disappeared somewhere in my feet about halfway through Kam’s little speech, and now I feel like I could throw up. My fingers tremble as I place them over my lips. “He’s coming back?”
Kameron grins at me and nods her head. “He’s coming back.”
“Oh, my holy shit… He’s coming back.” I feel like I can’t say it enough. Like somehow it isn’t real until I’ve said it a million times. I’m so happy, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. I’ve waited for this day for so damn long. And then I remember. My hand flies back to my mouth. I’m suddenly so embarrassed. “Oh no. I told him I loved him before he left.” I shake my head and my eyes grow wide again. “I didn’t know if I would ever see him again, so I just said it. He must think I’m the biggest freaking idiot. We weren’t even together.” I shake my head again, over and over.
Kameron stares at me with an incredulous look on her face. “You’re giving yourself way too much credit. I mean, what makes you think he remembers what you said the day his grandpa kicked his mom out of the only home he had ever known? And seriously, biggest idiot? I’m sure there are much bigger idiots than you. You’re developing quite the ego.”
Despite my despair, I have to laugh. Kameron has a twisted sense of humor, but it makes me feel so much better. She puts her arm around my shoulder and squeezes me to her side.
“Look, Bri, that boy felt the same damn way about you as you felt about him. The fact that you had the lady balls to tell him, well that just makes you a badass. I say the only thing you need to worry about is if his feelings have changed, because obviously yours haven’t.” She turns me so I’m facing her and clenches my arms. “But honestly, I don’t think you even need to be concerned about that either. If he somehow got over you during your time apart—just one look at you again—he’ll fall right back in love. Or lust, but both are pretty fucking great. You’ve really blossomed in the past three years.” She nods one quick bob of her head as if it’s settled.
I scrunch my nose. “I’ve blossomed?”
Kameron flicks my chest. “You got tits. Grew about three inches. And look at your hair.” She moves in a circle around me and brushes her hand down my crazy swirl of red locks ending midway down my back. “And you got a booty finally.” She swats my ass and I jump in surprise.
“While Benji was away doing who knows what, who knows where, you grew up. He left behind a girl, but he’s coming back to a woman,” Kam sings cheerfully with a wink.
Her words were meant to make me feel better, but now I’m just thinking about how he left a boy, but will be coming back a man. I shiver at the possibilities. What will he look like? What will he be like? I was expecting the same old Benji. Now I realize that isn’t who’s coming back. The nineteen-year-old boy I loved three years ago is gone. How will I feel about this new, older version of Benji? And more importantly
, how will he feel about me?
“Oh, and the other thing you might want to think about…” She trails off and bites her lip.
“What?”
“Not what—who. You do still have a boyfriend.”
“I know,” I say on a sigh. That’s a pretty important detail.
~*~
In a small town like ours, rumors travel faster than the mail. By the time Mom and I get back, Flynn is waiting for me on my front porch.
I get one foot on the first step before he’s in front of me. He takes my hand and moves past me, going in the opposite direction. “Can we go for a walk?” He makes it sound like a question, but he’s guiding me away from the house before I have a chance to answer.
“What’s up?” I ask, even though I’m pretty sure I already know.
Flynn’s grip tightens on my hand, not enough to hurt, but enough that I feel uncomfortable. I don’t pull away and he doesn’t answer until we make it around the house, just outside the field of corn. The wispy green and golden stalks tower above me as I wait for him to talk.
“Have you heard?” He drops my hand, but holds me with his bright blue gaze.
I opt for playing dumb. “Heard about what?” I look up at the sky, squinting against the sun.
“About Benji.” His voice is low and lethal.
Still playing the dumbass, I say, “Yeah. That’s horrible about Shelby.”
Flynn isn’t fooled and makes sure I’m aware of it with a not-so-subtle growl of frustration. I guess I need to work on my acting skills. He reaches for me again, pulling me to him until I’m forced to look him in the face. “I meant about him coming home.”
Home. I like the sound of that so much. “Kameron said she thought that might happen,” I say, and I can’t do it. I cannot keep looking at him with Benji on my mind. I turn and stare up at the old tree house Dad built for Benji and me when I was seven. Has it really been thirteen years? The thought startles me. What have I been doing all this time? Where did all that time go?
“Briar?”
Flynn’s voice pulls me back. I turn and look at him, watching him sink to the ground as if his legs just can’t seem to hold his weight any longer. He gazes up at me and I see it now, the fear in his eyes. I could erase it. I could kneel down in front of him. I could kiss his lips and reassure him that he’s the only one I love. I could do it.
But I don’t.
Instead, I look up to the tree house again. “When I was seven, I found this big piece of wood in the barn,” I say, my voice raw. “I knocked it over because it was too heavy for me to move. I remember I took the blankets off my bed and set them up across one side of the pallet. That was the bedroom. I pulled this rocking chair my grandpa had made me all the way out to the barn and added it to the other side. That was the living room.” I look down at the ground, pluck a strand of grass, and wrap it around my finger. “Benji came over and we started playing house on this piece of wood, careful not to step off of it. Dad found us and asked what we were doing. I explained that I made a tree house.” I laugh quietly.
“Briar?”
I keep going, ignoring the strain in his voice and the way the skin has gone tight around his eyes. “Dad laughed at me because the wood had no walls or ceiling and it wasn’t in a tree. Benji got so mad at him. He told Dad four walls and a ceiling didn’t make a house a home, it was the people who shared the space.” I rip the strand of grass in half and drop it back to the ground.
“I will never forget the way my dad looked at Benji. Never. Because I know it must have been the same way I was looking at him. Dad went into town and came back with all this stuff to build the tree house.” I point up at it now and smile.
“We worked all the rest of the day. First thing the next morning, we came back out and kept working until it was finished. Mom even made curtains.” I look at Flynn now. “When we were done, Dad looked at Benji and told him it was the work that made it a house, the people that made it a home, and the love that made it ours.”
I stop talking now. We stare at each other in silence for several seconds, both afraid to speak. Seconds may not seem like very long, but it feels like a lifetime. “Where are you, Briar?”
“I’m right here,” I say quietly.
Flynn shakes his head slowly. “No, you’re not. You’re standing right in front of me, but you’re not here. Not with me.”
I lick my lips. They feel dry suddenly. My throat is raw. Everything aches. “I’m here.” But the truth is…I’ve never been here with Flynn. I’ve gone through the motions, trying to find some semblance of happiness. Move on. Make some kind of life for myself. I know it hasn’t all been bad, but part of me has always been with Benji, waiting for him to come back to me.
Flynn stands up, puts his hands on my hips. “Where does this leave us?”
He knows. God, he knows how much I was in love with Benji. Even at seventeen, I was so in love. He wants to know where our relationship will be when Benji gets back. Will I drop him so I can be with Benji, or will I stay with him regardless? He wants to know if I still love Benji.
“I love you Flynn.” He smiles at me, so much tension brushed aside with a few words.
“I love you too.” He pulls me snugly to his body and brushes his lips against mine.
My body likes it here, warm and secure in his embrace, but I pull away. I have to. “But I still love him, too. I always have. I’ve never stopped.”
Flynn is so still, like he’s made of stone. Like my words turned him into stone. “So that’s it? I just have to let you love us both? Always live in fear, wondering if you’ll leave me for him?”
I drop my head. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s been so good to me. But I can’t lie to him about this. Not about something this big. This important. I wish I could change it, but my heart has always been Benji’s. Always. “You don’t have to live any way you don’t want to,” I whisper.
He laughs, a harsh, bitter laugh that leaves his lips like a gasp. “You coward. You don’t want to have to decide? You want me to make the decision for you? Fine. I choose us. Me and you.” I flinch as he gestures to the tree house. “To work on our own walls. To make our own home. To have our own love. No more shadows of the past following us around.”
My chest tightens in panic. He’s saying no more Benji. Now my legs can’t hold me and I sink to the ground. I feel like I can’t breathe. I put my hand over my heart. It hurts. It actually physically hurts. Flynn just stares at me, his eyes full of confusion. He squats in front of me and puts his hand on my cheek. “Don’t worry, Briar. I won’t force you to be with me. I don’t want you that way. I want you to want me.” He drops his hand. “I want you to look at me like you looked at him. That’s all I ever wanted.”
He stands up and takes a step away before turning back to face me. “I hope he comes back and hurts you like you hurt me. I hope he doesn’t even remember your name.” Flynn turns slowly, as if he’s unsure of himself, but he walks away from me all the same. And I do nothing to stop him.
4
Benji
Having lived most of my life in a small Ohio farm-town just outside of Amish Country, there was a lot I didn’t know about. Things I had no idea even existed until we left the safety and shelter of my grandpa’s house. And my mom always brought home all kinds. One thing I can say with absolute certainty is she didn’t discriminate against anybody. Once we left, it got a hell of a lot worse. The kind of people we were forced to be around were shady at best.
A few months out of Ohio and I realized how naïve my mom was. How naïve I was. In the three years since we’ve been gone, I’ve seen things I’ll never be able to forget. Met people who are scorched into my memory like a brand on the brain. I’ll see them every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life. However long that might be.
My brother bounces on the balls of his feet, his backpack housing all of his worldly possessions rattles in time. He’s nervous and excited about going back home. And if I had to guess, which I do sin
ce he doesn’t talk to me for shit anymore, I’d say he’s sad. Maybe it’s resignation. I can’t tell with him anymore.
We used to be close. More than brothers. We were friends. But it hasn’t been that way for a while now. Not since the day nearly two years ago when I picked up my mom’s pill bag and sampled it like a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Mom had an array of pills. Uppers, downers. She liked them all. Really, Mom’s use was based on whatever her current boyfriend was into at the time. I found that I preferred the euphoric high of oxy and it quickly became my drug of choice. It was me. My decision. My fuck-up. It changed me. It changed Jax. And we’ve never been the same. I want my brother back. I want my life back. I know what I have to do in order to make that happen. I just don’t know if I’m strong enough.
I ignore my brother and stare at the wad of gum on the sidewalk. Shit. It makes me think of Kam—the way she always had a gob of bright pink Bubble Yum in her mouth. I can almost smell the too sweet fragrance. It makes me think of her. Of course it does. They’re best friends. And now I’m thinking of Flynn. I close my eyes and try to reel in the surge of jealousy that courses through my veins like poison. That lucky bastard has everything I ever wanted but was too stupid to take. I hate him even though he’s my only connection to her. I can’t blame either of them. Him for loving her. Her for moving on. It’s exactly how it should be.
Across the street a kid uses the curb as a balance beam. His mom’s too busy making a deal to notice as cars whiz past her son. I grunt in disgust as flashes of a similar childhood sit up and demand remembrance.
Hell, Mom took us to score more than she took us to McDonald’s. No. McDonald’s was a special occasion. The occasion? Guilt. She wasn’t a bad person. Just a bad mom. When she sobered up long enough to remember she had kids, we got treated. She felt like shit for the way Payton and Grandpa had to take care of Jaxon and me. The way we shied away from her touch. She felt so remorseful she tried to make it better, if only for a day. And those days were always the best. A few hours inside a greasy fast food joint with Mom’s full attention was like visiting Heaven. Then the addiction would rear its ugly head and she’d be off on a bender for the next few days. Us kids never said shit, either, because we didn’t want to piss her off. Or worse, make her cry. What kid wants to make their mom cry?