“I’m going to miss you too, but I was thinking about what you said about wishing you could make real friends. In a weird way, you wished for this. Going away to a place where no one knows who you are. The experience might be good for you.”
“My grandma always says, Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it. I never understood her point until now.”
“So I get to surf, see if I’m as good as I think I am. And you get to make friends, where no one knows who you are. You get to figure out who you really are. So what’s your backstory?”
“I’ve traveled the world, been tutored. I love to surf, play soccer, and dance. And we lived in L.A. for the last couple of years.”
“Oh, that’s good. It’s all true. So why boarding school? Especially your junior year?”
“Mom and Stepdad decided to live in France. I didn’t want to go, but they wouldn’t let me stay in L.A. alone, so they shipped me off to boarding school, and I’m not happy about it.” I give him my pout face. Then I say, “Or I am happy about it,” and give him my biggest smile.
“You know you’re a natural when it comes to acting. I think that’s why sometimes you aren’t sure who you are. It’s so easy for you to play different roles.” He runs his hand slowly down my arm and looks longingly into my eyes. “Can we pretend that tonight you’re still you, and I’m waiting for you on the beach?”
Thursday, August 25th
Everyone will love you.
5am
Brooklyn left at three this morning.
Last night.
I don’t even know what last night was.
I guess it was just mostly saying goodbye.
He wanted to pretend I was still me, the old me. But I’m not the same me anymore.
And I’m not in love with him anymore.
I knew in Europe that it wasn’t going to work out, but I didn’t want to admit it.
I kept lying to myself, because once again, I had some stupid script of my perfect dream life imagined in my head. The kind of life where Brooklyn and I would live happily on a beach somewhere. Probably the kind of script no boy could ever live up to. The kind of script I could never live up to.
Brooklyn was right about one thing.
Life is messy.
And I know that I shouldn’t have kissed him. I know that I shouldn’t have slept with him.
But I did.
Is it so bad that I wanted to have one night where I could pretend it was still summer, and my life hadn’t been turned completely upside down?
Afterwards he tried to be sweet. “I love you, Keats. Even if it’s just as friends.”
“So where does the sex fit in?” I asked.
“With the love,” he said.
“You make it sound so simple. It’s just not that simple.” Because we all know now. It is not that simple.
“Yeah, it is. You complicate it by trying to make it fit into a box, so you can update your Facebook status. A relationship should be defined by your feelings not by a status.”
I wanted to fight with him about it, but it wouldn’t change anything. We’re just over. So even though there is a part of me that will always have feelings for him, it’s a much smaller part than it used to be.
After he left, I fell back asleep and had another bad dream. A dream where I was running and running and no matter how fast I went, Vincent was standing beside me.
I woke up afraid.
Ready to run.
Ready to get on that plane and not look back.
I drop my bag in the entryway to be loaded in the car. Mom and Tommy’s bags are packed and waiting. Tommy already had a trip planned for today. He’s going to New York to be on a late night talk show, so they’re just leaving a little ahead of schedule. The security firm booked two planes and filed the flight plans, which are easily accessible by the public, for both. One is going from here to Utah, and another is going from here to New York. I’m supposed to boldly walk out of the house. If Vincent is watching somewhere, they want him to know I’m leaving.
I want him to know I’m leaving. I want to know my sisters are safe.
Garrett determined that since there were already rumors about my supposed drug addiction that Utah would be a perfect place for one plane to go since there is a famous rehab center there. They have someone who fits my physical description going on that plane. She will wear big sunglasses and get dropped off at the rehab facility. From there, she will sneak out the back or something, drive to Salt Lake City, and take a commercial flight home.
I take a good look at the house. The house that has been my home for the last few years. The spot by the window where we always put the Christmas tree. The kitchen barstools where we have some of our best discussions. The fireplace that Gracie likes to ride her trike into. I glance outside and look at the waves I love to watch. The waves that seem to be as moody as I am. Sometimes gentle and relaxed, other times, dark and stormy.
I swore I wasn’t going to cry this morning, but I can’t help it.
Gracie pulls on my sweatpants. The girls are all still in their little pajamas and rubbing their eyes. “Why Kiki sad?” she asks in the most adorable voice.