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Searching for Beautiful

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“She had an abortion? I heard she lost it.”

I did! I want to tell them. I’m not the type of person who’s going to look down on someone else if abortion is the right choice for them, but I didn’t do it and I don’t want people thinking I did. I can’t say anything, partly because I’m too weak to talk about it and partly because I’m ashamed. Everyone knows about Jason and the baby, but God, it still sucks to be the girl who got pregnant.

“Of course she’s going to tell people she lost it,” the first girl says. “Why would she go around announcing she had an abortion?”

Their voices are getting farther and farther away until I hear the door creak and know I’m alone.

The urge to vomit threatens me again, but I can’t. There’s nothing there, so before I have the chance to start crying again, I push to my feet and slam open the door.

They think I did it. People think I got rid of my baby.

I stare into the mirror. I look like crap. Wetting a couple paper towels, I try to clean up.

How many people think that? Is it going around the whole school? Is that why people don’t know how to talk to me?

I toss the paper towels into the trash. Heat sizzles and scalds its way through my veins, burning me alive. I’m mad. I’m sad. I’m… I don’t even know what I am.

When I get to the hall, the bathroom door slams closed, startling me. I look to the left and suddenly the heat inside me scorches even hotter.

Christian is leaning against the lockers, Annie Jacobs, the most popular girl in school, with her perfect long blond hair, standing in front of him. She keeps moving closer and closer to him. Christian’s popping gummy bears like they’re going out of style. Is it me or did he just move away? No, why would he? And why do I care?

Just then, he looks up, his bright-blue eyes snaring me. When I start to turn away, he calls out, “Brynn! About time you got here. You’re late.” Then he says something to a pissed-off-looking Annie before coming my way.

I keep walking and he files in beside me.

“Thanks for the save, pottery girl. That chick’s a few cards short, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

It’s never stopped the other guys from caring. That’s what guys like, right? I mean, almost every boy in this school has gone after Annie at some point or another, even Ian on one of our breaks. “Pfft. Like that matters.”

“You go for girls who aren’t playing with a full deck?”

I look at him and roll my eyes. “I’m so not in the mood for lesbian jokes today.”

“Huh. I thought it was pretty funny.” He eats another gummy bear. “I thought you were finally loosening up with me last night, but looks like I need to work my magic a little harder.”

I stop, cross my arms, and look at him. The halls aren’t very busy, everyone off eating their lunch wherever it is they eat. He’s wearing another T-shirt with a long-sleeved shirt underneath. It’s like some kind of retro nineties look, if my memory of old teen shows is correct.

“I know you must have heard what happened with me.” It was a stupid thing to say.

“I don’t listen to rumors and shit like that.”

“Yeah, right. Everyone listens to rumors. Even if you heard otherwise, I don’t put out.”

Christian stops mid-chew and shakes his head. Then he closes his eyes, like he’s taking a time-out or something. It feels like forever until he opens them again and mutters, “Wow…”

Wow? Wow? “Wow what?”

“You’re pretty damn conceited, aren’t you? First I want to look at your ass. Now I want to sleep with you. Did it ever cross that pretty little head of yours that I don’t want you? I mean, you’re hot, I’ll give you that, but you kind of ruin it when you open your mouth.”

I’m so shocked, I can’t move. Can’t speak. I just stand there, frozen and probably looking like the biggest idiot in the world. He’s right. I’m being a bitch. What’s wrong with me?

Still, I don’t move. Can’t, even when Christian steps closer to me. Closer still. And closer until he’s leaning forward, his lips right next to my ear.

“Did you ever think, Bryntastic, that I might want to be friends?” he whispers close, so close to me I feel his breath on my neck. My body begs to jerk away. My hand burns with the urge to punch him. And a part of me wants to pull him closer.

“That I remember the girl who used to love laughing? Who used to blush all the time? The first girl I ever danced with?”

I gasp.

I was the first girl Christian danced with?

Suddenly, he jerks away. “But, nope, you didn’t think about that. Sucks, but I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to beg a girl to be friends with me. Life’s too short to spend it trying to make everyone else happy. Have a good day, pottery girl.” After popping a couple more gummy bears in his mouth, this time, it’s Christian Medina who walks away from me.

And it’s my own damn fault.

Chapter Seventeen

Now

The rest of the day, I force myself not to make eye contact with Christian. It’s not too hard to do, considering he doesn’t look at me, either. I don’t blame him and wish it were easier for me to tell him, but that fear is still engraved inside me. Fear that he’ll disappoint me. Maybe that’s not the word, but I’m afraid he isn’t who I thought he would be. It’ll hurt too much to go through that again. Christian is tied to happy memories of my childhood that I want to hold on to.

If I keep things cut off now, I don’t have to worry about them ending the way they did with Jason. Or even Ian.

After turning off the car, I get out at the community center, really wishing I didn’t have to come today.

When I walk inside, it’s full of people like it always is. Automatically my eyes scan the room for Christian, but I don’t see him.

“Hello, Brynn. How are you today?” Valerie stands in the doorway to one of the counseling rooms.

“Good.” I walk toward the room. She waits until she closes the door behind me before she speaks.

“You look a little sad today. Did anything happen?”

Yes. The boy I used to think I loved was nice to me. He was nice when most people aren’t and I was horrible to him because as it turns out, it’s scarier to deal with someone treating me normally than being ignored.

“No. Nothing happened. I’m just a little tired, I guess.”

The way she’s looking at me, you’d think my nose was growing to prove my lie.

“Have a seat.” I do and she continues. “I know it seems silly that talking can help, but it really does. It’s important to get your feelings out, and sometimes it enables you to see things from another side.”

Yeah, talking to a strange woman definitely doesn’t sound like something I want to do. Maybe if I had Diana and Ellie, things would be easier. But then, I didn’t talk to them when I had the chance.

“Your dad said you make pottery. Have you spent any time in our art room? Art is a fantastic way to center yourself and clear your mind.”

A flash of the last fight with Mom plays in my mind. How I ran to my pottery room to clear my head while she died. No, thank you. “Pottery is easier for me to do alone. I have my own room for it at home.”

Valerie nods and I wonder exactly when it was I became such a good liar.

We spend the next forty-five minutes talking about nothing, really. She avoids most of the topics I don’t want to talk about, except she does ask about my friendships at school. I tell her Ellie, Diana, and I have drifted apart, which is true.

“Okay, Brynn. We’re good until next week, but I want you to work on trying to participate more—here and in other aspects of your life. I’d love to see you get involved a little more, or to try and find a way to open up, okay? This will only help if you’re involved one hundred percent.”

I stand, my fight with Christian today playing on my tongue, but I can’t make the words jump out. I’ve never had to really talk to someone I don’t know—someone I didn’t choose. I always had my friends or my parents there. I can’t just force myself to say or do what she wants from me.

“Okay. Thanks.”

I had just closed the door when I hear a commotion on the other side of the room.

“Not in the mood today, man.” There’s an angry edge to Christian’s voice that I’ve never heard from him before. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

“It’s not really an option, Christian. You know that.” The counselor I saw him with that first day stands straight, crossing his arms, too, as if to tell Christian he’s not screwing around.

“It’s just a day. One fucking day. It’s not going to kill me to miss our meeting.”

My heart speeds up and I know I should turn away. This isn’t my business. I wouldn’t want people watching me, either, but it’s like I’m nailed in place. He’s being so different from the boy with the smile and the gummy bears.

“In my office, Christian.”

“Nope.” He turns and pushes the front door open so hard, it slams against the wall.

Before he steps out, a woman says, “Christian!” from across the room. I see him freeze as a Hispanic woman who looks an awful lot like him approaches.

She gets close enough to him that I can’t hear her when they speak. I see him shake his head but then she says something else. Christian closes his eyes and even from where I’m standing, I see his chest rise and fall in deep breaths. The room is silent—the only noise a loud beat in my ear.

Without another word, Christian turns my way. My body sets in stone, still unable to move even though I know he’s coming my way. That he’s heading into the room right next to the one I left.

Christian’s eyes briefly run over me—no, it’s more like they cut through me—but then he faces forward, walks over and into the office.

I open my mouth, wanting to ask him if he’s okay, but he closes the door before I get a chance. When the woman slips in the door behind him, I turn, ready to get the heck out of here, but run straight into Emery.

“Jeez. What’d I ever do to you?”

“Oh my God. I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She wrinkles her forehead. “Yes. I’m pregnant, not made of glass.”

Oh. Duh. But my mind is still with Christian, so my eyes dart to the door, wondering if he’s doing a better job at talking than I did and wondering if it helps.

“What’s wrong?” Emery asks.

“Nothing.” I shake my head but then stop, wanting to say something but not sure exactly what.

“Come on. Let’s go. I can tell I’m needed.” Emery shocks me by grabbing my arm and practically pulling me through the center. She stops, peeking in different rooms—the game room, art room—until finally pulling me into the movie room.

When I step inside, I realize it’s empty. “Emery, really, I’m fine.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you don’t have something on your mind.”

And she’s right. The big surprise is I want to share it with her. I need to talk to someone, and Emery makes me feel way more comfortable than Valerie does.

“It’s not really that big a deal.” And in reality it isn’t. Not when you compare it to other things people deal with.

“Again, so? Can you imagine how boring life would be if the only things people talked about were really big deals? Or maybe not boring but depressing, at least.”

She’s right. I walk through the room and plop down in one of the chairs, Emery right behind me. My stomach is a little uneasy. It’s crazy how quickly someone can get used to not really opening up to people.

“Moving your mouth helps.”

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