Stepbrother Untouchable (17 page)

“No,” Nate says, turning to her. “I saw him trying to feel
up Brynn, and then she told him to stop, and he slapped her.”

A look of horror spreads across my mom's face. She looks at
me, then at Pierce.

“Is this true?
Is it true?
” Pierce doesn't even
bother responding to her accusations, just turns his palms upward and shrugs. A
wailing cry escapes my mom's lips. For a second I think she's going to collapse,
but then she throws herself at Pierce, her limbs a blur as she attacks him. “I
trusted you! I trusted you!” she screams. Pierce puts his arms up to defend
himself as Nate steps forward and wraps his arms around her, hemming her in and
then pulling her away. “My own daughter! My own daughter, you son of a bitch!”

With a strangled cry, she turns her head and begins to sob
against Nate's chest. Pierce surveys the three of us, aligned against him on
the other side of the kitchen.

“Nothing?” Nate whispers, as he rubs my mom's shoulder. “You
have nothing to say for yourself?”

“Come on, Nate. You're really going to believe them?” Pierce
says, a sneer of contempt on his face.

“I don't have to—I saw you with my own eyes. But I should
have believed Brynn in the first place,” Nate says quietly, though I can hear
the strength in his voice. Pierce can only manage a snort of derision before he
walks toward the hallway. “My mother,” Nate says, and Pierce stops, his back
still toward his son. “You made everything up, didn't you?”

Pierce stands frozen for a moment, his head slightly cocked
to the side. I can't see his face, and can't imagine what could be going on
inside his mind. His carefully crafted history, now falling apart around him.
He shakes his head slightly, as if waving away an unpleasant smell, then
continues to walk down the hallway. He heads straight to the front door, and
shuts it behind him. As we hear the sound of his car heading down the driveway,
my mom straightens up, and Nate's arms fall to his sides.

“I need to be alone for a little while,” she murmurs, her
gaze on the floor, and walks unsteadily toward the stairs. I watch her leave,
wishing she had the strength to comfort me for even a moment.

“She's just in shock,” Nate says, reading my mind like always.

“I know,” I reply with a nod, struggling to keep myself
together.

“I should have believed you.”

“I had no reason to lie.”

“I know. I just couldn't believe he was capable of that kind
of thing, or maybe I didn't
want
to believe.”

“You said some awful things to me today. God, was that just
today?” I ask with a sad laugh, reaching up to rub my forehead.

“I'm so sorry, Brynn. I was angry…sometimes my temper…I
didn't mean any of those things. The time we've spent together—” he says,
taking a step toward me.

“No, no. I'm not ready for that. I don't know if we can go
back…” I murmur, a tear slipping down my face.

“Brynn, please, I can't lose you.”

“You were so ready to turn on me,” I whisper. “So ready to
push me away and be done with me.”

“I was in shock at seeing her again. I didn't actually mean
it.”

“But you
said
it, didn't you? The way I care about
you…I would never treat you that way, would never want you to hurt. But you
wanted me to hurt. You don't feel the way about me that I feel about you. You
can't.”

“That's not true! You have no idea how much I care about—”

“I love you.” There's a long silence. I stare up into his
beautiful face, my heart shattering as he doesn't reply. He just looks back down
at me, some unknowable emotion flickering across his eyes. “Well, there you go.
There you go. Goodbye, Nate,” I say, turning my back to him. He doesn't move.

“What are you going to do?” he finally asks quietly.

“Um, well,” I begin with a cold laugh. “I think I'm going to
eat this cold grilled cheese sandwich, and then I'm going to start packing.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I survey my mom's old beat-up station wagon. Both the car
and our old house were just on the verge of being sold, but my mom was able to back
out. Luckily she was taking her time in the process because she didn't think
she had to worry about money anymore. The car isn't even full—the only things
that belonged to us here were our clothes and some knick-knacks. It only took
me a few hours this morning to pack it up. It's both sad and comforting. Our
old life is still waiting for us, almost as though this whole summer never
happened.

But of course it did. I wondered last night if I would take
these last few months back if I could. If I were given a magic wand that could
make it so that my mom had never met Pierce, that I'd returned to our old house
for the summer, that my relationship with Nate had never gone beyond that
encounter in the crew house, would I wave it?

I don't know if I've ever felt so much pain as I have
recently, but also never so much happiness. I was held in such a tight little
shell before, never really experiencing the depths or heights of anything, and
I suppose you can't have one without the other.

To never have held Nate in my arms…no, I can't imagine it.
Despite so many terrible things having happened, I would never want to erase
the time I spent with him, even if it would take away the pain I'm feeling
right now. The pain that I can feel even in my bones, causing a throbbing ache
throughout my whole body. It's like I'm detoxing from some powerful, addictive
substance. One that I know only hurts me in the end.

I catch a glimpse of my slightly swollen lip in the car
window from where Pierce hit me last night. We haven't seen him today—he must
be holed up at a friend's house or a hotel. I don't even want to think of the
divorce proceedings that my mom will be wrapped up in now.

I hear the front door shut behind me and turn—will it be
Nate coming to say goodbye? But it's my mom, carrying one last small suitcase,
her eyes covered in large, round sunglasses.

“Ready?” she asks, without looking at me. I nod, then
remember one last thing I've forgotten.

“I'll be right back,” I say, and hurry in through the front
door without explanation. I walk straight up the staircase and down the hall
into my bedroom. It looks exactly the same as the first time I saw it. I pause
for a moment, taking in the beauty of the furnishings for the last time, before
walking over to my desk and opening the top drawer. I reach my arm all the way
to the back and fish out the small slip of paper I stashed there.

I walk out and down the hallway. Nate's bedroom door is
slightly open and I can tell from the silence that he's not inside. I push it
open all the way and walk to his bed. I run my hand over his bedspread and
breathe in his smell. I pull down the comforter and lay the piece of paper on
top of his pillow, then pull the comforter back up over it. I certainly don't
want Pierce to find the scrap of paper where Eileen wrote her phone number.

I'm about to leave when something makes me cross over to his
window overlooking the river. My eye catches on a flash of white on the lower
lawn: Nate sitting on the top step of the stairs leading down to the rocky shore.
He sits completely still, his white t-shirt stretched across his broad back. I
resist the urge to wonder what he'll do now—it's really none of my business
anymore.

I hurry back down to the car and see my mom sitting in the
passenger seat. I open the driver's door and see that she's placed the keys on
the seat. I get in without a word and turn the car on then pull away from the
house. I glance in the rearview mirror to get one last glimpse at it as I turn
the corner out of the gate.

My mom is silent on our drive back to our old house, just
staring out the window as we get on the highway that takes us further away from
the city, back to our much less expensive neighborhood. A seed of resentment
that's been building inside of me all summer, or perhaps longer, finally takes
root as I glance sidelong at her impassive face.

“You haven't even looked at me all day,” I finally say,
gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands.

“What do you mean?” she asks faintly, still not turning to
me.

“You haven't looked at my face,” I repeat.

“Brynn…” she sighs.

“No, it's true. Your husband
slapped
me last night
and you never even came to check on me. And now you won't look at the bruise.”

“Brynn, I've been very upset.”

“And I haven't? He feels me up, hits me, and you haven't
asked me if I'm OK.”

“It's not my fault that he did those things!” she shouts,
suddenly hysterical.

“Mom, I'm not blaming you for his actions, alright? But
you’re my mother. You should have believed me—you should have taken care of me.
I've been taking care of you for years, and this time,
I
needed
you
.”

My mom sobs once, reaching up to cover her mouth with her
hand. “I wanted to believe you, Brynn, I really did,” she finally gasps. “I just
knew that if I did, everything would fall apart, and it all seemed so perfect.”

“But it wasn't.”

“No, it wasn't.” I feel her hand reach up tentatively to
touch my face, and her fingers graze over the small cut in the corner of my
mouth. “Oh, I'm so sorry, my darling. Does it hurt much?”

“Hardly at all,” I reply, swallowing the tears that have
sprung up at her touch.

“I never guessed…about you and Nate, I mean,” she whispers.

“That's over, too,” I reply shortly as my emotions threaten
to overwhelm me.

“Ah,” is all she says. “Well, I know that might not be the
kind of thing you ever want to talk about with your mother, but I'm here. You
cared about him a lot?”

“Yes,” I answer, my voice raspy with held emotion. “So I
guess you have to get a lawyer?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Oh, god. I suppose so,” she replies. “I think I'll be able
to get my old job at the salon back, at least. I talked to Anita and she said
the new girl they got is terrible.”

“Did you sign a pre-nup?” I ask, thinking of Eileen. I know
I'll have to fill my mom in on what I know about her soon, but it would just be
too much for me right now.

“Yes,” she sighs. “Iron-clad.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I close the door behind me and dump my newly-purchased
textbooks on my thin mattress, then straighten up to survey my Lawn Room. It's
not much to look at, with its sparse furnishings and lack of bathroom access,
though it does have a framed list of every inhabitant that's lived here, going
back to UVA's very first class.

For the last month, I've just been sitting around our old
house, doing my best to help my mom with getting her old job back and hiring a
lawyer, but there really wasn't much for me to do. I felt both relief and fear
when it was finally time to drive back down to Charlottesville. Relief because
I'll have schoolwork to occupy my mind, and fear because I might run into Nate
on campus.

Foolishly, I had hoped that he would try to get in touch
with me after my mom and I moved out, but he didn't. It really was stupid of
me. I told him that I loved him, and he didn't say it back. Simple as that.
Even though he was angry, there must have been some truth to his words when he
told me I wasn't special to him.

I glance at the clock. Just after four—almost time for my
dinner shift in the cafeteria to be starting. I change into my work clothes and
head over. At least I know I won't run into Nate there—the athletes all have a
separate dining hall serving far tastier and more nutritious food. I open my
door to the lawn, smiling halfheartedly at another female student a few doors
down as she exits her room at the same time. I walk quickly, keeping my head
down, not really wanting to interact with anyone I know. I enter the dining
hall and cross around to the side door, back into the kitchen.

“Oh, Brynn!” Roberta, my manager, waves to me from a table
by the front, where she's doing some paperwork. I wave back and head over.
“There's been some issue with your work-study,” she tells me quietly as I reach
her.

“An issue?” I ask frowning. “Do you know what it is?”

“Something related to your scholarship—that's all the dean's
office told me when they called.” I rub my forehead in frustration. This is the
last thing I need. “If you head over to Monroe Hall now, you might be able to
talk to someone who knows more than I do.” I nod. “Sorry,” she adds, before
continuing with her work.

I hurry out of the dining hall and follow Roberta's advice
to see if I can get some more answers, though I fear I already know what
happened. My mom has been so frazzled lately, I bet she forgot to make a
payment on the portion of the tuition that we still owe. I explain the
situation to a secretary at Monroe, who points me toward the office in charge
of the work-study program. A man in his early thirties stands to greet me as I
walk through the open door of his office.

“Francis Delton,” he introduces himself, shaking my hand.
“How can I help you?”

“Well, I was told there's some issue with my work-study
program, or with my scholarship, or something,” I reply, reaching to tug at my
hair before realizing it's pulled up in a ponytail.

“OK, your name?” he asks, sitting down and motioning me into
the chair across from him.

“Brynn Atwell,” I respond, spelling it out for him. He types
my name into his computer and then clicks around for a moment.

“Ah, this is quite unusual,” he says, raising his eyebrows
at his screen.

“OK…” I reply nervously.

“You can no longer participate in the work-study program,
because your tuition has been paid in full.”

I stare at him. “You mean, for this semester?”

“No, I mean all of your tuition.”

I shake my head, unable to believe him. “For this year? Or…I
mean, not
all
all?”

He smiles. “
All
all.”

“But that's…that's impossible. How? Who?” I stammer.

“I have no idea. I can only see that you're ineligible for
the program.”

“OK, OK,” I reply, trying to gather my thoughts. “Thank you.
Thank you so much.” I wander out of his office and out onto the quad. With
Pierce and my mom getting divorced, I knew I'd have college tuition loans to
deal with again, and I took it in stride. I was used to the idea, anyway. What
the hell's going on?

I reach into my back pocket and dial my mom. I have no idea
if she'll know either, but I can at least tell her the good news.

“Oh, Brynn! Brynn, I was just going to call you!” she says
as she picks up.

“Let me guess, is it about my tuition?” I ask, hearing
excitement in her voice.

“Yes! How did you know?”

“Well, I showed up for my shift at the dining hall, and was
told that my tuition's been taken care of. What's going on?”

“I was literally just picking up the phone to tell you…it
all happened so quickly this afternoon. Pierce's lawyer offered me a settlement
in the divorce! And it specifically included payment of your tuition.”

“Pierce paid my tuition?” I ask, my mind reeling.

“Yes! As soon as I signed, the money was wired over.”

“But…but mom, was it a good settlement? I mean, did you have
a lawyer look it over?”

“Yeah, it was the same lawyer who told me I'd get nothing
because of the pre-nup I signed. He was completely floored, and told me I'd
better sign before Pierce changes his mind.”

“But…why? I mean, it seems so out of character for him.”

“I know! I can hardly believe it either. It's crazy! I'll be
able to pay off the mortgage on the house and have a little left over. I mean,
we're not rich or anything, but we have a bit of leeway now.”

“Was it, you know, 'hush money,' do you think?”

“I doubt it. The lawyer said that there's no less reliable
witness than a woman trying to defame her ex-husband, so I don't really think
Pierce would be worried about me going to the press with stories or
anything—not that I'd want to do that anyway. But honey, it's done now. It's
really over. We don't have to worry about him anymore.”

“Well, I'm glad that you're happy with it. If you're happy
I'm happy. Man, this is the first good news we've gotten in a while, huh?” I
touch my lips with my fingertips, wondering when the last time I smiled was.

“Have you seen him yet?” my mom asks quietly. She doesn't
need to specify that she's referring to Nate.

“Not yet,” I reply. “Though I've convinced myself that every
brown-haired guy I've seen from the back is him.”

“That's normal,” my mom assures me. “You'll see him
everywhere for a while. But it will pass soon, my darling. I promise.”