Finding Me (11 page)

Bella

MY LEGS WERE HEAVY THE
next morning as they trudged through the crowded train car until I spotted a seat by the window. The ride to Grand Central Station was three hours and I intended to spend most of that time in dreamland. I struggled to lift my suitcase into the overhead compartment. Once I settled into my seat with my backpack on my lap, I leaned into the dull glass, peering out the window at the quaint college town that terrified me when I first arrived. Now, I felt a pang of sadness in my gut at leaving.

I untwined my headphones from my phone. It buzzed with a text.

OWEN
: Last night was incredible. Leaving you was torture.

Leaving Owen was excruciating. He walked me back to my dorm at five o’clock, giving me just enough time to shower and get to the train station. It took a good fifteen minutes to finally break apart once we started kissing goodbye. Even after being up all night, our lips had plenty of energy. I chuckled at how ridiculous we both were. He was going back to Savannah, not off to war. I’d see him in less than a month when classes started again in January. It was odd to so terribly miss someone I’d only known for three months, but it seemed so much longer. Maybe the amount of time you knew someone didn’t matter. I knew Christian most of my life and was his girlfriend for three years, but did I ever really
know
him? Quality over quantity, and Owen had Christian beat in every quality possible.

ME
: I hated leaving you, too. Last night was beyond words.

OWEN
: I think you could find some if you try. Amazing, awesome, huge . . .

ME
: You’re such an ass.

OWEN
: Ugh, thinking of you saying that is turning me on. Stop it.

ME
: What am I going to do with you?

OWEN
: I have a few ideas for January. Until then, Skype tonight around 8?

ME
: Sounds amazing, awesome . . . huge

OWEN
: Now who’s the ass? We’re getting ready to take off. I’ll text when I land.

ME
: Okay. Have a safe flight xoxo

OWEN
: Safe travels, City. I already miss you like crazy.

ME
: I miss you, too.

I shifted in my seat and stretched my tired body. I winced at the dull sting between my legs; my souvenir from my first night of real passion. My previous first night was over in four thrusts. I wasn’t sure I could even count it anymore.

I mindlessly scrolled through Facebook and Instagram and checked my email. I had some messages from friends in my study groups wishing me a happy holiday, an excited greeting from my friend Barb telling me to make sure to call her the second ‘my ass is back in the five boroughs’ and a random email with the name Christensen listed in the return address. My cousin Janice was the only person I still spoke to from my father’s side after my grandparents passed away, but she rarely emailed me. I usually spoke to her through text.

I opened the message, and my stomach dropped. My phone shook in my quivering hand as I kept reading.

Hi Bella,

I know it’s been a long time, but I’d really like to see you. Janice gave me your email address. I’m still in Chicago, but I’m moving back to New York in January. I could meet you near Culver after the holidays. You must have a lot of questions, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to explain.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Daddy

Daddy?
Rage burned my insides. He had balls bigger than the Empire State Building. I hadn’t seen or heard from Marc since I was six years old; no phone calls on special days, no cards on holidays, no acknowledgement of any kind. He moved to Chicago and forgot I existed. I was very young, but my hazy memories of him weren’t exactly warm.

When someone who is supposed to love you unconditionally—especially a parent—casts you aside, it leaves an indelible mark. I was thankful that Lucas, the man I called Dad and the only real father I ever had, turned a lot of the damage around when he came into our lives. But a rejection like that never really goes away. It colors your thinking in ways you don’t realize. Maybe that’s why I let Christian treat me so badly before we broke up instead of just ending it. Somewhere in my psyche, I accepted it as normal because of the way I was pushed aside as a little girl.

I had Daddy issues that translated into guy issues, and it was so cliché it made my empty stomach turn with disgust.

Marc knew my email address and where I went to school. Why was Janice so free with that information, and when did she start speaking to Marc in the first place? A little warning would have been nice. Shutting my eyes, I dropped my head back with a groan. I was annoyed at Janice, mad at Marc, and totally clueless as to how to handle any of the mess suddenly dropped into my lap.

“Miss?” A concerned whisper from the passenger beside me made me jump. My eyes darted to her concerned gaze. She reminded me of my grandmother—my father’s mother, ironically enough—with her perfectly coiffed hair and stern expression.

“I’m sorry to pry, but the color just drained from your face and you’re shaking. You look as if you saw a ghost.” She offered a concerned smile and squeezed my hand. That was exactly it; an unwelcomed ghost from my distant past reached out to me and screwed up my head with a four line email message. “Are you all right?”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Thank you, but I’m okay. I haven’t really eaten anything today and didn’t sleep last night. I’ll eat the granola bar in my bag and I should be fine.” I forced a smile and an exaggerated nod.

The last thing I wanted to do was eat. Why couldn’t I turn back time a few hours? I wanted to lay my head on Owen’s hard but cozy chest and feel the security of his arms around me. I wanted to be excited about seeing my parents and little brother. Marc Christensen crawled out of the hole he was residing in for almost thirteen years and turned my world upside down. I let my heavy eyelids drop and I tried to forget the new complication in my life before I surrendered to sleep. Some ghosts should stay gone forever.

The train pulled into Grand Central Station fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. I hopped on the seven train and headed to my neighborhood in Queens. My nap calmed me down and gave me clarity. I wouldn’t answer Marc until I planned what I would write. My first inclination was to say go screw yourself, but I’d regret not at least hearing what he had to say. I owed that to myself more than him. My inner peace was short lived as anger dissipated into guilt. I felt disloyal to Lucas for even entertaining the possibility of meeting Marc.

I trudged through the muddy city snow to my block. The slushy crunch under my feet broke through the Saturday silence. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Christian’s truck parked in his parents’ driveway, and I didn’t feel the slightest twinge of anything. A slow smile spread across my face. I was over it, and it felt fan-freaking-tastic.

I wheeled my suitcase up the front steps to the stoop. Our lit Christmas tree was visible through the bay window even though it was early afternoon. I had a feeling Mom did that because I was coming home. And when I opened the door, home felt wonderful.

I dropped my bags by the door and hung up my coat. I pulled off my furry boots and tiptoed into the living room, where my seven-year-old brother Joey was so focused on his latest LEGO creation he didn’t hear me creep up next to him. His sandy brown hair was shorter than usual and spiked in the front. My baby brother grew like a weed when I was away at school and lost his baby face. His mouth twisted as his piercing blue eyes focused on which miniscule block to add next. He had nothing of Mom in his features; he was
all
his father. I expected the line of girls to form at the door the minute he turned thirteen.

“Boo!” I grabbed Joey’s waist and plucked him off the floor.

“Bella! You’re home!” He wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed so tight a cough sputtered from my throat. I gave him a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek and he squirmed away.

“My baby’s home!” My mother ran toward me so fast she almost knocked me over. Calling me her baby was funny as I was as tall as she was. I relaxed in her embrace. No matter how old I was, hugs from my mother made everything in the world right again.

“I wish you would’ve let us pick you up.”

I pulled away and shook my head. “That made no sense; the train station is right at school. By the time you guys drove up and came back it would have taken the whole day.”

“My butterfly is home!” I craned my head to the sound of Dad’s voice in the hallway. The look of pure joy on his face as he met my gaze made tears prick my eyelids. The rage returned in my gut remembering Marc calling himself “Daddy” in his email to me.

I ran over to him and he lifted me by the waist and twirled me around as I squealed.

“Let me look at you.” Dad cradled my face in his hands, just like when he dropped me off at school. Both times I was close to crying into his chest, for different reasons.

“Did you get taller?” I laughed and shook my head.

“You just saw me at Thanksgiving. And I’m eighteen, Dad. I don’t think I’ll grow anymore.”

“You look different.” Dad squinted his eyes at me as he stepped back.

“She’s in love.” Mom stepped over to us and put her hand on Dad’s arm; she gave me a wink. I chuckled at the scowl on Dad’s face.

“And you,” Mom poked Dad’s shoulder, “will be sweet as pie when Owen comes home with Bella in March.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dad grumbled as he looked between us. “Owen and I will be fine as long as he behaves himself when he’s here.” Dad kissed my forehead and turned toward the door to pick up my bag. “I’d hate for him to go back to school without his hockey stick.”

I groaned and dropped my head to my hands. Mom put her arm around me as we followed Dad upstairs. “He loves you very much. Try to remember that when he turns into an ogre at the mention of Owen.”

“Is Daddy an ogre like Shrek, Mommy?” Joey tried to lift my backpack for me as he made his way up the stairs.

“Yep,” Dad called over his shoulder. “You can help Daddy build a huge tower for Bella to keep her away from boys.”

Dad strode to my room and dropped my suitcase onto the floor.

Joey’s brow furrowed at Dad. “But we’re boys, too. How will we see her?”

Dad laughed and rubbed the top of Joey’s head. “We’ll build a secret doorway, Joe. Let’s go practice with LEGO.” Dad shook his head at us and made his way back downstairs with Joey.

Mom settled on my bed as I unpacked. “You do look a little different. But a good different. Relaxed and happy. I hated that you felt you had to go so far away from home, but I’m glad to see you like this.”

I nodded as I folded my clothes into my dresser drawer. “I saw Christian’s truck parked in the driveway of his parents’ house. And I didn’t care. Not even a little. I think I’m finally past it. It’s about time, right?”

Mom leaned back on the bed and shrugged. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You needed to work through it in your own time and at your own pace.”

“Didn’t I say to call me the second you got in?” Barb’s voice drifted up the stairway before she burst into my room and tackled me with a hug. She was the only true friend I had left after Christian and I broke up. She was two years older than me and already in college during the worst of it, but she commuted and lived at home. She let me use her house as a safe haven when things with Christian blew up, and was the reason I didn’t disintegrate into a thousand pieces before I graduated.

“I’m still unpacking!” I laughed as I plugged in my laptop and laid my phone on my dresser.

“I’ll let you guys catch up.” Mom stood from the bed. “I’m sure Barb wants the uncensored report on Owen without your mom around.” Her lips twitched as she made her way out and closed the door.

“So tell me about Savannah hotness. Any new pics?” Barb bounced on the edge of the bed.

I dug out my phone and scrolled to the latest picture we took together after Owen’s hockey game last week.

“Shit, Bella. He’s
hot
. Even the bandana on his head is sexy.” Barb gave me an exaggerated shiver as she handed the phone back. “I am so happy you finally moved on from that douche down the street.”