When I Forget You (11 page)

             
“We’ll get it after. No big deal,” I say as she takes another ball out of her bag and serves.

             
“Have you talked to Cynthia lately?” The ball comes to me and I hit it back to Chasity.

             
“Yeah,” I say. “Right after me, she talked to Kade and Cynthia asked if anything was wrong with me.”

             
“What do you mean?” She hits the ball back at me.

             
“Exactly that. She asked Kade if I was okay and Kade said he thought so,” I say. I catch the ball and walk over to where we put the tennis bag. I grab a water out of the bag and open the bottle and take a sip. Chasity comes over and takes a sip of hers too.

             
“That’s weird.” She sits there and looks at me for a while, trying to figure out what Cynthia meant. I think I know exactly what Cynthia meant and I know she knows that no, I am not okay. She saw what a wreck I was when she left. Of course she would ask Kade if I’m alright.

             
“Do you think Kade has talked to Destiny?” I look up from my water bottle at her. I haven’t even thought about if Kade has talked to her. But then again, I know he hasn’t. He’s so mad at her you can practically see flames in his eyes when someone even says her name.

             
“No. He’s still furious beyond belief,” I say. I walk to my side of the court again and juggle the ball up and down with my racket.

             
“I wouldn’t blame him.” I drop the ball my racket is juggling and serve it to Chasity. She hits it back to me.

             
“Has Henry tried contacting you?” I can tell my question kind of threw Chasity off her game, because she swings to hit the ball and totally misses.

             
“Yes. He keeps sending his stupid-ass-weed-smoking-mother-fucker-friends over to me to ask why I won’t talk to him. Like you dumb mother fucker gotta be kidding. WHY AM I NOT TALKING TO HIM? I mean Becca, can people SERIOUSLY be that much of dumbasses? He’s so fucking unaware it’s kind of sad,” she says. I crack up because that would be my exact response, too.

             
“I know. It’s kind of scary how clueless people can be, huh? Like normal people would get the message after a month of not talking, but nope. Not him.” I hit the ball with all my strength back to Chasity. She hits it even harder back to me.

             
“Has he tried talking to you?”

             
“A little bit. It’s gotten better, just like my mom said it would, though. But when he contacts me, he does it with a big bang. My parents are trying to figure out how to block his number but Verizon is being a stupid butt.” I walk over to the tennis bag; I have to get home for dinner.

             
“Does Kade know?” She walks up from behind me.

             
“What? No. Why would I tell him?” I pick up my water bottle and my keys and head out the gate, with Chasity following behind me.             

             
“I don’t know. Maybe he would have some good advice on how to get through it,” she says. Good advice my ass.

             
“There’s no reason in telling him. What happened between Henry and I is history now. No one needs to talk about it anymore,” I tell her. I unlock my driver’s seat door and hop in. I turn on the car and roll down the window so I can continue talking to Chasity.

             
“But we’re talking about it right now,” she says. I look at her straight in the eye. Damn, she’s got me on this one.

             
“Yeah, but I have to make sure he’s not contacting you. This is my mess to begin with, and I don’t know how to clean it up.” She just nods at what I say. I say goodbye then pull out of my parking space. I put the car in drive and drive all the way home in silence. I usually love music, but right now, I don’t know what I would listen to. No song or genre seems good to me. I’m not in the mood. I turn right onto Jacksonville Road and then left onto my street. I park my car in the driveway – in between my parent’s cars. Once I lock the car, I shut the garage door and head inside.

             
“Glad you’re here, hon; it’s time for dinner,” my mom says when I walk into the kitchen.

             
“What’s for dinner?” I drop my purse on the bar stool and look over at Kade who is still doing his homework on the other bar stool. I immediately look away when his eyes meet mine.

             
“Meatloaf,” I hear my mom say as I’m trying super hard to ignore the fact that Kade is watching me. Must. Not. Look. But I do. Like an idiot. He’s wearing a navy blue t-shirt and black track pants. He looks cute. Not in the “I’m cute” way but in the, “I’m exhausted from school and I’m tired of homework so I’m in sweats and at home hanging out,” cute. Then I realize what exactly I just thought about. The only two words I caught from my crazy mind are “cute” and “home.” First of all, yes, sadly, he is very cute. And second, I did just say he’s cute because he’s “home and tired of homework.” Yes, Kade is home. And in a way, that feels comforting. In another way, though, that scares the shit out of me.

             
Mom puts two plates of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and asparagus in front of Kade and me and tells us to eat up. I take the fork and knife off my plate and begin to cut my meatloaf.

             
“Thanks mom,” I mumble. Then Kade says thank you too. I don’t look up at him, knowing that’s exactly what he wants. I would never want to give him what he wants and let him win at his own game. That would just be too damn easy for him.

             
When my mom walks out of the room to go back to work, I start to freak out. This is sooo not going to be good. I just try and ignore the fact that all I can hear is clinking forks against plates. I hate that sound; it’s so empty and boring. Then Kade breaks the silence by saying probably one of the nicest things I have ever heard somebody say to me. That’s the worst part, too. Kade is so nice. So caring, like he’s been thinking about what to say to me since I left.

             
“Becca, I’m here when you need me.” And that’s all he says. And I’m a little more complete inside. A part of me healed just a tad bit more.

             
Then we just sit there in silence eating dinner. But, I feel more company in the quiet kitchen of just the two of us than I’ve felt surrounded by my loud friends at lunch.

Chapter 22
: <-- Breaking

             
“Your so selfish, Becca. You only think about yourself. It’s sick. If you really cared about me, you would stop talking to him. Because everyone on this earth, even Chasity, doesn’t like Chase. I recommend you stop thinking about yourself and think about how your relationship with Chase is hurting other people. Besides, best friends come before boyfriends – you know that. Unless, you know, you’re having another one of your bitch moments and I’m not your best friend anymore. So stop being so freaking selfish and actually think about me for once.”

             
I know it doesn’t seem like he’s such a great friend - the guy that wrote the message above. But, see, he was such an amazing friend. At one time I thought he was one of the best things that had ever happened to me. I know what you’re thinking, how could your so called ‘best friend’ talk to you like that? It’s not as easy as you think. And I know now you’re thinking “let me guess, one of those ‘it’s complicated’ thing? Sounds like a movie to me. I doubt it’s ‘that complicated.’” But, it is. So cut me some slack. Sometimes, it takes a while to learn how people should treat us. That no, we really aren’t supposed to be treated like shit. Though most people have treated me like shit, so I’m used to it. Again, no, I’m not even supposed to be used to it.

Chapter 23
: Watch Her Heal -->

             
It’s two weeks later, two weeks before Halloween, and I just woke up with the stomach flu. It’s five-fuckin’ thirty in the morning and I’m awake, puking at the toilet, praying to God that I don’t wake Becca up. The last thing I want is for her to come in and see me puking my guts out. Thank goodness it’s a Monday though. Stomach flu equals no school for me, which makes for a very happy Kade. However, with this painful stomach ache I’m starting to think I’d rather suffer through school. It feels like little munchkins are cutting my stomach with a thousand mini chainsaws.

             
I sit on the white tile floor and hope no more upchuck is coming. I take in a big breath and listen for anyone coming from down the hall. Nope. No feet coming from Lindsey and David’s room and no loud music coming from Becca’s. I get up off the floor and try to wash my hands. I can’t straighten my back; slouching is more comfortable on my stomach. I forget washing my hands and open the door, trying to walk back into my room. I let out a whine because my stomach hurts so fucking bad. What the hell did I eat last night? Is it normal for the flu to come on so fast? And what the hell is up with this throbbing headache? I’m falling apart here. I shut the door to my room and crawl back into bed. Can’t get comfortable. Stupid sheets. Stupid stomach ache. I lay on my stomach, trying to get the munchkins with chainsaws to go away so I can go back to sleep. It’s only five-thirty so even if I was going to school I still have an hour before I have to wake up. But I know I’m not. There is no way.

             
Now all of a sudden I’m sweating like a pig from head to toe. Like sweat is literally dripping down my forehead. I was just cold like two seconds ago. Great. A fever too? I feel like shit.

             
Then right when I stop pressuring myself to fall asleep, my eyes close and my mind shuts off.

Chapter 24
: <-- Breaking

             
I’d rather focus on you NOT being in my life (so it’s easier when I move) instead of focusing and thinking of ways to get you back

…Henry.

“I’m not coming back, Henry.”

Chapter 25
: Healing -->

             
My alarm beeps and I slowly get out of bed. Did I mention how much I hate school? It’s probably the most boring thing ever. Plus I already know what I want to do with my life, so why go? Can I just skip to college, and forget stupid high school bitches and their drama?

             
Then I remember I don’t want to go out into the real world. I’m scared. Henry said that one day, we will see each other in a restaurant or something and we’ll be with our families. He’ll look over at me and make eye contact and we’ll smile at each other. But let me tell you right now, I never want him to even catch a glimpse of my children.

             
I roll out of bed, frustrated already with my thoughts of Henry, and zombie walk into the bathroom. There is this horrible stench in the bathroom that is making me gag. Either Kade burped for a constant five minutes or he threw up. I walk to the door frame and peek my head around the corner, to see if Kade’s light is on in his room. It isn’t. If I don’t wake him up, we’re going to be late for school. Should I wake him up? Nah. Well, yeah, I really should. So I do.

             
I open his door slowly and find him sleeping peacefully in his bed, the covers over his body. Crap. What if he sleeps naked? I freeze in my path. I seriously DO NOT want to wake him up if he doesn’t have any clothes on. That would be soo screwed up on so many levels. I tap his head with my pointer finger, trying not to scare the living shit out of him. His eyes flutter open and look up at me. When he sees I’m in his room, he smiles. God, that smile. It can really mess with a girl’s mind.

             
“Get up. We have school,” I say then start to walk out of his room.

             
“I can’t,” I hear him say behind me. I turn back around and face him. He’s still lying in bed. “I have the flu,” he continues. So he did throw up in the bathroom. Ugh, nasty. My poor toilet. I just nod at him.

             
“Do you need anything?” I ask. I lean against the doorway.

             
“Seven-up, or something?” He shrugs.

             
“Sure.” I walk out of the room in my pajamas and walk downstairs. I hope we have Seven-Up because I’m really not in the mood to go to the store in my pajamas right now. I walk onto the cold, hard tiled floor, barefoot and open the fridge. No Seven-Up. Just some apple juice, milk, and this cucumber water my mom loves. Supposedly, it’s like the gross water a spa gives you, so it relaxes her. How does water relax someone? I sigh, grab my car keys, and head out the door. I hop in my jeep and pull out of the driveway. Why am I doing this for Kade? Why am I actually taking time out of my getting ready routine just to get him one bottle of Seven-Up? When did I become so nice?

             
I pull into the Ralph’s only a block away from the house and get out of the car. I lock the car, making it beep, and head into the store. Where would the Seven-Up be? Does it count as a soda? I mean, it fizzes, so it must be categorized as a soda. I walk over to where they put the huge bottles of Dr. Pepper and Coke and look for Seven-Up. They only have ginger ale. Knowing Kade, he will think there’s a difference, but I don’t care. He’s getting the damn ginger ale and not Seven-Up.

             
I walk up to a cashier and hand her the bottle. I grab a ten-dollar bill out of my pocket and put it on the counter.

             
“How has your morning been?”

             
“My brother has the flu, so it basically sucks,” I say. I tell the cashier Kade is my brother because I really don’t want to explain why I have a boy, my age, sleeping in the room across from mine, sharing my bathroom, eating my food, and getting to know me too much.

             
“Oh that’s awful, I’m sorry to hear that,” she says. We all know she’s really not sorry.

             
“Thanks,” I say as I grab the bottle and my change and walk out the doors. I hop in the front seat of my Jeep and drive back down the street toward home. I get home, put some ice and Ginger Ale in the cup and walk back upstairs to Kade’s room.

             
“Thanks, Becc,” he says as he takes the cup from my hands. Our fingers brush against each other and the room spins.

             
“No problem. I’m going to go get ready for school. I’ll call you between each period, okay?” I start walking out the door.

             
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he says. I turn around and stare into his eyes.

             
“Yeah I do. Cynthia would want me to,” I say.

             
“What’s your secret, Becc?” I go blank. My secret? I don’t have a secret. Well actually, I have many – maybe too many. I walk out of his room and close the door behind me, refusing to let him see my sensitive side. Refusing to let him see my weaknesses and demons. They’re too dark. And if he looks closely enough, he will see that I have cold, scary traumas that not even I am able to handle. I’ve done a good job keeping the truth of what happened between Henry and me a secret, but since Kade is living with me, it can be easy for him to figure out. He’ll see that on cold days, he can look into my eyes and see where my demons hide. It’s dark inside, and no one can find out.