Flat-Out Celeste (29 page)

“What? What are you talking about?” He was panicking now, his voice shaking and his breathing irregular. “No, no. I am not sacrificing anything for you. And you are
not
weak. Do you not see that? You don’t, do you.” He stood up and paced in front of her. “You have more strength than anyone should. All those years that you were alone? That you isolated yourself? You didn’t have friends, you didn’t have anyone to be close with, to talk with, or… or play with. You were alone. That must have been painful, and yet you rallied anyway and kept going. It takes strength to stay apart from the crowd. You are brave, Celeste. So what if you found a way to deal with your brother’s death that was a little unusual? Good for you. It was a smart thing. I don’t care what you had to do to get through something so painful.”

Celeste was shut down now, speaking in a monotone. “You will never be able to look at me the same way now that you know. About Flat Finn, about how I have taken everything from Matthew. I am a drain on those around me. That will not change. I am weird. As I said yesterday, I am certainly diagnosable, and that makes for something too drastic for you to have to deal with.” She inhaled the truth, choking on the conviction of what she was saying. “Do you see how quickly I come undone? With a snap of the fingers. I had a bout of temporary sanity. It was a joke. An illusion. Now I understand the nature of my character and the expansive impact that I have on others.”

Justin put both hands in his hair and continued pacing, talking quickly, desperately. “You don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want. God, we’re all probably diagnosable. Look at the world around you. Look! We all have
something
. All of us. Every single person in this world has a quirk. The guy in my lit class who can’t stop sniffing every time the professor mentions the words
thematic representations
? Or… or… or the way my friend Trent gets a new body piercing every time he gets an electric shock on the job? That’s weird, right? But it’s cool. It makes him who he is. I mean, I wouldn’t do it because that’s not me, but it’s him. And… and… I never understood the whole piercing thing, myself. Seems a rather extreme and painful way to express yourself, but—”

“Justin, stop,” she said quietly. He was coming apart. Another thing that was her fault.

“No, no, I will not stop. And how about me? What about how you are with me? What about the snowy owl? Remember that first night that we went out, and I spilled and tripped and babbled and made a huge disaster out of everything? You didn’t care, right? Tell me you didn’t care? I know you didn’t. That’s how you are. And I don’t care about any of this stuff about you that you think is not okay. You have to stop hating yourself. And stop assuming that everyone else will hate you. Please, you have to. Look how much you’ve done this year? You have Dallas and other new friends. You were great at Barton yesterday. And you have me. Sometimes you need someone else to believe in you, to carry you, until you can do that yourself. Let me carry you. You’re almost there. Damn it, Celeste, you’re almost there. God, please, you have me, and I want you.” He stopped walking back and forth and put both of his hands over his heart. “I want you so much.”

She looked at him, utterly exhausted now. “You only think you do. It will pass. I will not allow you to be further dragged into my dysfunction. You know how to work with whatever you imagine are your challenges. I do not. I refuse to be a burden on you or anyone anymore. We are over.”

“Stop it! Matt made choices and those are his responsibility. Don’t blame him for loving you.” Justin’s eyes were red now. “And don’t blame me either. What about this weekend? What about everything that has gone on between us?” He got on his knees in front of her and took her by the wrists, pressing her hands against his chest. “I love you. Do you feel that? I love you, Celeste.”

“You are mistaken. You cannot possibly. And even if part of you thinks you do, I will not let you.”

“Listen to me!” He pressed her hands more tightly to him. “Don’t doubt my love. Don’t doubt yourself. You don’t get to do that. Remember we talked about the fight? You’re in it again. So win. Fight for yourself, fight for me, for us. For… for whatever you need to. But win this battle and win the war. This is not the time to give up; it’s not. God, you’ve worked so hard this year; you get more and more comfortable every time I talk to you, so don’t stop now. Everything is lined up in your favor, so I’m telling you, win the war. Finish it. You need this to be over.” He tried so hard to smile. “You’re a pacifist, anyway. You are. Let the past rest. Let there be a future. Find the peace.”

Celeste stood up, her emotions dulled. She was unable to cry, unable to feel. It was time for her to go. She took the car keys from her pocket.

He put both hands on her legs, trying to stop her. “You are more capable of being loved than you understand. And—Celeste, this is important—you nurture and love and protect more than anyone I have known. Or could know. Don’t take that away from me. From us.”

She had to gasp for air. It took enormous effort to get these words out. “My future is to be alone. No one will get hurt that way. You believe that differences make the world go around? You are wrong. People die, people are cruel, people leave, people get hurt. They damage each other, reject each other, abandon each other, they break up, and they spiral downward.
Those
are the things that make my world go around. There is no allowance in my life for happiness despite my efforts. It is fleeting only and cannot hold. I have failed, and now I surrender. I cannot tolerate having anything to lose. So I choose to let you go before you are pulled into my darkness and lost. Because you, you of all people, Justin, deserve light.”

Now she was drained. Now there was nothing left. She turned from him and walked away, leaving him on his knees in the wet sand. Looking back was not an option. Celeste could not bear to see what she had done to him. It was better to do this today than months from now, when their hearts were further entwined, when the pain would be even greater.

When Matt returned to the hotel, they would drive to the airport and take the first flight back to Boston. Life would resume as Celeste had known it—life before she’d had hope, before Justin, and before that enticing taste of joy had broken through her walls.

Only this time, she would not have Matt, because she would have to let him go, too. It was the only way that she could free her brother.

ERASED

NOT THAT BOSTON was known for gorgeous weather during March, but this year it felt particularly brutal. In more ways than one.

At least Justin’s endless voice mails, texts, and emails had subsided. Blocking his number had been nearly crippling, but she’d done it, and she never replied to any of his emails. She hadn’t even read them. It was the only way to erase him from her life.

Matt was proving more difficult. He had respected her refusal to speak to him for the first few days after their disastrous trip, but he was showing up at the house for dinner more than she liked, pushing
her to talk to him. She rebuffed all of his efforts. It was exhausting to behave in anything resembling a friendly manner in front of her parents, but she forced herself each time. She did not want to explain any of this mess to her parents. In fact, he was downstairs right now, having invaded the house under the guise of needing to borrow an iron because he had a job interview this week. No one in the world could have any confidence that he knew how to iron even a napkin, so Erin had taken pity on him and was currently ironing his brand-new dress shirt and pants. Celeste had made herself scarce and was in her room.

As she had done every day since her return from San Diego, she ran through her phone and computer looking for anything left of Justin. She was afraid that she had missed something, and she needed all physical evidence of him out of her life. The emotional evidence was taking work to erase, but she fought every minute to keep emotion at bay. She had a very practical search to do. Granted, it had neared obsessive levels, as she knew that her browser history had been cleared and photographs, emails, and texts deleted. Yet something nagged at her. There was something that she was forgetting.

Her bedroom door swung open. Matt.

She glanced at him for a split second before turning away. “Please leave.”

But he strolled into the room and sat down on her bed. “Are you still giving me the silent treatment? That’s got to be boring. I mean, passing over compelling discussions with someone of my intellect has to be killing you.”

“I asked you to leave.”

“Mom says you decided to go to Harvard.”

She didn’t respond.

“And you’re going to live at home? Why would you do that? Don’t you want to get out of here?”

“I would very much like for you to get out of here,” she said flatly.

“Celeste, come on. Enough.”

“Get out.”

“I said I was sorry for what happened. Really. You can’t just pretend that I’m not your brother.”

“I can. I will.”

“Look, I give you points for stubbornness. Really I do. You win, okay? Now tell me what to do to get you to knock off this game.”

She swiveled slowly in her chair. “You can get the hell out of my room. Now.”

He looked so sad. “Celeste…”

She raised her voice. “Get the hell out! Do not come back. Graduate with your degree, go on your interviews, and accept a job far away from me. I am toxic to you!”

“That is not true. I hurt you, and you’re mad. I know that. Tell me how to make this up to you. Free burgers from Bartley’s for life? Or… or… or I’ll only type in Comic Sans for the next year.” He held a hand up. “Swear on my life.”

“I have no wish for your jokes. None. Stay away from me.”

“You can’t do this. You can’t keep up this act. Pushing everyone away is a huge mistake. Are you even talking to Dallas anymore? Dad just told me that she’s been calling the house saying that you’re not returning the messages she left on your phone.”

“That is not your concern.
I
am not your concern. Not anymore.”

The truth was that she was still talking to Dallas, although mostly only in school. Ending that friendship would be more effort than she had now. They would graduate soon enough, and Celeste could slip out of the small social life she’d established. Arousing too much alarm now was impractical. So she smiled at school, she asked lots of questions, and she did everything that she could to keep the focus off of herself. She knew that Dallas wasn’t buying it, but Celeste pawned it off as not wanting to talk about her break-up with Justin. It was enough to satisfy Dallas for now.

“You’re my sister. You really think I can just stop caring about you?”

She slammed her hands down on the desk. “You will not be encumbered by me any longer! I cannot stand it!” She was panting, and it took a minute to regain control. “You will go and live your life as you were meant to. Without me and without restraint. I will ask you for a final time to vacate my room.”

Matt looked at her for a long time, tolerating her steely glare, until he finally stood.

“I’m not giving up on you.”

“You should.”

“Never,” he said as he walked by her, finally leaving her alone.

It was not easy to remain stoic and unaffected. But she did it.

Back to the work at hand.

Celeste walked the perimeter of her room, rooting through items, throwing everything that did not give her an answer into a heap. The floor of her bedroom was becoming progressively more and more covered as she cleared off shelves, the nightstand, her dresser drawers. Some piece of Justin remained, and she had to find it. She opened the door to her closet and sifted through each hanger. Then she searched the floor, hurling shoes behind her. Nothing. There was nothing. And yet, there was something, somewhere. She could feel it in her heart, and that feeling had to be eliminated. Celeste stood on her tiptoes and pulled down a stack of sweaters, hurling each one behind her.

And then she saw it. And remembered. The pink sweater that she’d had on for her date with Justin last December. The one that he had gently pulled over her head when she’d been so distraught, and the one that she’d had on when she walked through his winter wonderland. And when they had been lifted into the air to look down on the Christmas tree.

The Christmas tree. The star.

Celeste took a deep breathe in and out through her nose, shutting her eyes to keep her composure.

The box that had their notes in it. That was still out there in the world. And she needed to get that back so that it, too, could be destroyed.

Calmly she walked through the mess in her room, did a quick search for a phone number, and sat down in her big chair. She dialed the number.

“Good afternoon, Eastern Communications. In order to better assist you, may I have your account number, please?”

“Hello,” she said brightly. “I am not calling about my account. I am endeavoring to contact an employee of yours. His name is Trent, and much to my dismay, I cannot provide you with his last name. Would you be able to be of assistance?”

“Sorry, ma’am, I am only in charge of account services. May I have your account number?”

“I do not have an account number. I have a need to locate one of your fellow employees.”

“I can’t help you with that, ma’am. Perhaps you’d like to upgrade your service to one of our new bundle packages? May I have your account number?”

Celeste hung up and redialed, reaching a different person.

“Good afternoon, Eastern Communications. In order to better assist you, may I have your account number, please?”

“Hello. I am not calling about my account. I am endeavoring to contact an employee of yours. His name is Trent…”

And so it continued. Until finally she had a phone number.

Two hours later, she was in the car and heading to Dedham.

The Christmas tree lot was, of course, empty. Deserted, covered in muddy slush, and dismal, it looked nothing like it had the last time that she’d been here.

That made the ache worse.

Celeste stopped herself. She would not go back to that night, to that hope. She slammed the car into a parking spot and began the walk. There were no lights this time, no halo cast over her, no boy there romancing her and easing his way into her heart. She was grateful for that, because she had no room for those memories. She couldn’t. There were puddles, there was gray sky that broke through the evergreen arch, and there was emptiness. Those, those she had room for.