Breaking Walls (15 page)

I studied the reflection in my mirror. It was like I didn’t even know that girl anymore. Who was she? Where was she going? What did she really want?

I didn’t know.

The Mandy I knew would never hurt the people she loved. Heck, the Mandy I knew would’ve never gotten close to someone long enough to really love them. And yet there I
stood, a completely broken version of the person I’d always prided myself on being — strong, composed, focused.

The house was silent and still. I hadn’t heard a sound from either Dad or Bailey’s rooms since coming home, and at such a late hour of the night, it was safe to assume they were both sound asleep in their respective beds—Bailey, still angry with me; Dad, still avoiding me. It was nearing midnight when I slipped out of my bedroom, bundled in a heavy jacket, jeans, and comfortable shoes. I tiptoed down the hallway, out the front door, and to the car.

I’d never left home after curfew. While I’d broken plenty of my own rules, I’d never broken any of Dad’s. He’d be furious to wake up and learn that I was backing out of the driveway, headed anywhere but where I was supposed to be.

But Georgia was right. I needed to take a pause, and I couldn’t do that holed up in the house. I needed space and freedom. I needed clarity.

So I drove into the darkness.

Where to start?

“With Dad,” I answered myself. There was something he wasn’t saying to me, something he was scared to face. Whatever it was, it was eating him alive. Was it just the fear that my anger would only grow stronger? Was he scared that I’d evoke another silent treatment once he finally told me the truth? “I could never do that again.”

Besides the fact that it took too much effort, it wasn’t worth the pain it inflicted on him. Whatever it was that he was afraid to say—because I was convinced there was
something
—I would have to make sure he understood that there wouldn’t be any severe repercussions. Sure, I could easily get upset. I was allowed to get angry, especially if the situation called for it. But the silent treatment was out. It wasn’t fair, and it most certainly wasn’t an effective way to communicate with anyone.

Which brought me to—

“Bailey,” I whispered, dropping my head back against the headrest. I focused my stare on the dark highway, driving past the Sugar Creek Park gates. “Why would Gabe confide in
her
?”

Well, he’d already told me why, it’s just that his answer didn’t make much sense, so I was left to try to figure it out on my own.

If I didn’t have his answer to consider, it might’ve been as simple as considering that he’d only turned to Bailey because he really
was
drawn to her. But I couldn’t believe that no matter how hard I tried. Bailey had Jones, and she loved him. In the weirdest possible way, those two were perfect for one another, and she would never do anything to screw that up. And Gabe…he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t choose Bailey over me, and I knew that. So that was one school of thought I just couldn’t entertain.

I
may be your strength, Amanda Parker, but
you
are my weakness.

I still didn’t get it. What did he mean?
I
was his weakness? I was his fault, the one thing that held him back and stood in his way? I mean, yeah. That made sense. I
had
stood in his way. I’d nearly killed his entire program and life’s ambition in one fell swoop. So it became clearer why he’d chosen not to talk to me—
I
was the reason everything had gotten so twisted and screwy. But why he’d chosen to talk to
Bailey…
I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand.

The drive into Desden was a complete blur. The fact that I’d driven so far only registered when I found myself pulling into the parking garage at the University, completely unaware of most of my drive. Whether paralyzed by my thoughts or a serious case of highway hypnosis, I’d never really know. But at least I’d gotten there safely.

I got out of the car and shut the door quietly. One would expect a dimly-lit parking structure on a college campus to have an overwhelming eeriness about it at twelve thirty a.m., but nothing about Desden University—not even dark, lurking shadows—caused me the slightest bit of discomfort. Maybe that’s why I’d driven out here in the first place. Maybe I just subconsciously wanted to be in the one place I felt at home…the last place I’d felt truly close to Gabe.

I crossed the empty boulevard and landed on the student square, surprised by the students still wandering the campus this late into the night. There weren’t many
, a few stragglers here and there, but it still surprised me. I’d really expected to be all alone on this walk around DU.

Five minutes after arriving
at the square, I found myself nearing the foot of a life-sized statue, one that I’d spent a few moments at on my first trip to the university. Gabe had wanted to snap a shot as he stood next to the man, so I took his phone, watched as he struck his pose, and captured the moment. I wondered why it was so important to him to do that, and I hated that I hadn’t taken the time to really ask. There were so many things I should’ve asked…

“In memoriam: William C. Dunham,” I read the nameplate at the bottom of the statue. It didn’t give any other information, just a name. I turned back and looked at the nearby performing arts center, reading the bold metal letters fused across the top of the brick: The W.C. Dunham Performing Arts Center. I turned back to the statue. “So this is your building, eh?”

I sat down on the small stoop at the foot of the statue and stared up at the frozen grin on the man’s face. I remembered the goofy smile Gabe wore as I snapped his picture next to the man, and all I could remember him saying was that he had to have the shot for Lashell.
She’ll get a kick out of it
!

“Lashell Dunham,” I said, turning even further to stare at the statue. “You’re related to Lashell?”

That seemed likely enough, which only meant that, whoever he was, this man was someone very important to both of my RI leaders. Once upon a time, Gabe had called Lashell a mother-figure of sorts. Anyone who meant anything to her would’ve meant the world to him. I turned back to look at the ground. “If you knew Gabe, then I’m probably not saying something you don’t already know, but the guy’s complicated. And that doesn’t help matters much, because I’m probably more complicated than him.”

I looked down at my feet, watching as pebbles shifted beneath my shoes.

“He’s a good person,” I said, more to myself than the memorial statue at my side. “He’d never hurt anyone, not intentionally. He’s so gentle and loving, and…I don’t know why he turned to Bailey and not me. But it wasn’t malicious, was it?”

The wind picked up, whipping my hair all around my face.

“He needed a friend, someone who wasn’t me.”

And I knew what it meant to need a friend. There had been too many times in my life when I’d really needed one, and because I’d forced myself so far
out from the world, I didn’t have anyone to turn to. And now, now that I had a close group of confidants, I knew what it meant to have a friend…to
be
a friend. There were so many times I’d relied on Georgia, and times that she’d relied on me. There were the few moments I’d turned to Fletcher for reassurance, and he’d turned to me for support and encouragement. But then there was Jones…

“My sister’s boyfriend,” I said aloud, and then I lifted my head to look up at the night sky.

Jones and I had grown very close. As much as Georgia and Fletcher meant to me, Jones was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend. Even before I’d ever really opened up to the idea of having friends, he was always there. In his own silly ways, Jones was always trying to help me, make me smile, ensure my happiness. He was the one I talked to, the one I turned to when I truly needed extra love and support. He
was
my best friend. I needed him.

“Just like Gabe needed Bailey,” I said, dropping my head again. “Jones and I talk about things that my sister has no idea we talk about. And…how is that any different than what she and Gabe are doing?” I stared harder at the dark pavement. “It’s not. It’s not different at all.”

The moments passed slower as my heart grew heavier. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t seen it before, but it was right in front of my face. When it came right down to it, the fact of the matter was that—

“I was jealous,” I admitted, looking up to the statue as if it had somehow heard and understood every word I’d said. “I wanted it to be me; I wanted to be the one he turned to. And it all just took me by surprise. I had no idea they were even in touch, let alone
friends
. I let my surprise and jealousy turn into anger, and I took it out on my sister.” I held my breath for a long second, and then I slowly let it pass through my lips. “That wasn’t fair.”

It wasn’t. I’d been completely unfair, just like Gabe had accused me of. And just like with Dad, I knew the only thing I could do to even try to make amends with Bailey was to let go of this jealousy and hurt and try to talk to her. I needed to apologize. Hopefully my sister, though, unlike our father, wouldn’t retreat and hide from me.

“And you know what else?” I asked, because at that point, I knew there was nothing that was going to stop me from talking. It was like being at that park re-opening all over again. I just kept talking, unable to stop until I’d said my peace. “I spent the last four years accusing my sister of being a horrible person, and I never stopped long enough to realize that I wasn’t any better than her. I spent so long shutting people out that I missed out on years’ worth of friendship. I jumped to conclusions that people were going to hurt me the same way my parents hurt me, and the sad thing is, even after I realized that wasn’t true, I still kept letting those assumptions get the best of me. I jumped to conclusions about Gabe and Bailey, about Carla, about everything. Ultimately, all of this… everything that’s gone horribly wrong in the last few weeks… it’s all been because of
me
.”

Gabe’s withdrawal…

The unwanted media attention…

The Bailey-Gabe alliance…

Carla’s sudden onset of malice…

“They’ve all been right,
ya know?” I asked, turning a look to the statue. “Gabe, when he called me unfair. Carla, when she said I was selfish. I jeopardized a lot for our team and for Gabe. And then Georgia…she was right, too. I only saw what I wanted to see, only believed what I wanted to believe. I let myself play the victim when I was really the
cause
of all the problems.”

On every level…
I
was the cause. It was me.

“I have to make this right,” I said, turning to look straight again. “I have to fix what I’ve broken—with Bailey, with Gabe, with Dad, and the whole team.”

But how? How would I even begin to undo all of the horrible things I’d caused?

Talking, hashing things out with Dad and Bailey…that seemed like the only logical way to approach things with them. We could open the floor to complete and utter honesty, say whatever needed to be said—no repercussions whatsoever. I’d take
ownership for what I’d done wrong. I would offer up my heartfelt apologies. It would be up to them to determine whether or not I deserved their forgiveness.

With Gabe, I didn’t know where to start. Maybe the best thing was to give him what he had wanted all along—space. Maybe that was the only answer I needed. Obviously talking to him wasn’t going to get me far, and I didn’t want to end up in another scenario where he and I were going to rip each other apart. So I’d keep my distance. I’d let him come to me, but only when he was ready. That’s about all I could do for him.

But then there was Carla, the Raddick Initiative, and the entire district team. As much as I hated admitting the truth, I knew that Carla had been right about me all along. No, I hadn’t shown up at the park for any other reason than to say my goodbyes to Gabe, so her justification for my actions couldn’t have been further off. But she was right about the fact that I’d put our entire team at risk. There were so many things I’d risked—the foundation’s future in the schools, the district’s chance at winning, my friends’ chance at succeeding.

I had to step up, I knew that. In every possible way, I had to take ownership for what I’d done. So I had to come up with the best possible solution for fixing everything.

I’d talk it out with Dad and Bailey.

I’d keep my distance from Gabe.

And I’d do whatever it took to secure Sugar Creek’s victory in the RI program. All I needed was one, great idea—one thing that would ensure the team couldn’t lose, and one thing that I knew Carla could never take from me.

“But what?”
I asked. “There has to be something I’m not seeing.”

And no sooner than the words left my mouth, I suddenly knew what I could do. There was one last option, something I had never considered until that very moment.

And I couldn’t help but smile. There was hope for our team yet.

Chapter Eleven

I’d never felt so confident in all my life.

I woke up in my bed the next morning with a clearer perspective on everything: Dad and Bailey, Gabe, Carla, the RI project. I chose to skip the early morning weekend stint at the soup kitchen and spent my morning focusing on an article for
The Herald
. At that point, I wanted to start with the little successes and build myself up to a bigger, stronger place. If I could tackle the little things, then I’d have the confidence to move forward and tackle the big ones, too.