Searching for Beautiful

Again, he’s right. Why does this all have to be so hard? It should be better by now, shouldn’t it? I should be better.

“I know…” I walk over and plop down on the porch swing. “I know,” I say again, like they’re the only words I can speak. “It’s just…I’m all mixed up right now.”

Christian mumbles, “Shit,” under his breath before walking over and sitting beside me. We swing for a minute, no noise besides the creak of the chains and the occasional car purring by. I try to work through my thoughts so they make sense. I just swing, and sit, and be with him until I decide to just speak whatever comes out.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t me. The bitchiness. I’m just—”

“All mixed up,” he continues for me. My head whips to the side and he’s smiling that Christian smile, and I return it.

“I’m not always happy, Bryntastic. I’ve dealt with shit, too. I just got to the point where I was over it. Tired of letting anger and pain run my life. I’ve seen what it can do, caring so much what other people think.”

Because of what he went through with his sister.

Another eternity passes before I find the courage to speak again. I’ve already admitted a few things to Christian this afternoon that I never would have before. I decide here and now to keep going. Even if it’s baby steps. “I need a friend. I think I want that to be you. Can we start over?” It makes sense, when I think about it. Trying to start over by regaining a piece of my past—my friendship with Christian.

More quiet. His breathing. My breathing. My heart slam-dancing in my chest. He’s quiet for too long.

Finally he leans back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bag. “Gummy bear?” He holds it out to me and I take one. “There’s the Brynn I remember.”

I nudge him with my arm. For the first time in forever, I realize I have a friend. Maybe even three friends if I count Brenda and Emery.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“No problem,” he says. “Jason—do you want to talk about him? Shit, I’m like one of the counselors. Pretend I sounded way cooler when I said that.”

Christian is good at making me laugh, and this is no different. “Not yet. I’m trying, but I don’t think I’m there yet.”

Christian nods. “Gimme your phone.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell. He takes it from me and says, “I’ll put my number in there so you’ll have it if you ever want to use it.”

He does, and I nudge him again, hoping he knows that’s a thanks.

After he hands me back the cell, we keep swinging. Swinging and eating gummy bears.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Before

“Hey, Bryntastic.” Christian smiles at me. We’re all at the park after school. Christian showed up not long after Ellie and Diana disappeared somewhere. I’d stayed at the swings. I love the swings. The wind rushing by me is like freedom. The swings make me feel like I can fly.

“Hey,” I reply.

“I like your hair. How it flies around when you’re swinging.” Christian looks down, and I see a smile making his cheeks move. I’m about two billion degrees. I probably look redder than my hair. Christian is so freaking cute, and he just told me he likes my hair.

“Red hair is lame,” I say.

“Nah, it’s unique.” He sits on the swing next to me and starts pumping his legs. “Kind of like pottery. I don’t know anyone else who does that.”

“My mom helped me find it. It’s my favorite thing in the world to do. What’s yours?”

Christian keeps swinging. A hundred years pass before he speaks again. “I haven’t found it yet.”

“You will.” I pump my legs as hard as my eleven-year-old legs can.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Everyone has one. My mom says.”

Together we keep flying through the air. I see Christian pop a piece of candy into his mouth. I grin, thinking I suddenly like Dots a whole lot. “For now I’ll say eating candy.”

“That’s not the same.”

He ignores that. “You want one?”

“Sure.” Butterflies suddenly start racing in my belly. Christian doesn’t stop swinging, just holds out his hand. I almost stop because there’s no way we can pass a piece of candy to each other while we’re going like this. But then…I decide to just try.

I hold out my hand, too, and when we’re both all the way forward, all the way to the sky, our hands touch, Christian passing the red Dot to me.

It’s almost like we’re holding hands, but of course it’s only about one second, and then he’s gone. Suddenly I’m flying higher than I ever have. I put the candy into my mouth. “Thanks.”

“Any time, Bryntastic. What are friends for?”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Now

After I roll over in bed, I grab my cell phone from the table. Without letting myself think about it, I dial Christian.

“Hello?” His voice is scratchy from sleep.

“Bet you didn’t know when you gave me your number that I’d use it in the middle of the night.” My chest swells at the sound of my relaxed voice.

“Eh, I’m not worried about it. I’m learning you like to keep me on my toes.”

I decide to pretend that’s what’s really going on here. “I used to love the swings,” I blurt out.

Christian doesn’t laugh or ask me where that came from. He just says, “I remember.”

My mind wanders back to that day, with the Dots on the swings, and I wonder if Christian is thinking about the same thing. “I remember swinging with you. You gave me a Dot.”

Christian chuckles. “I think I just wanted to hold your hand.”

My heart jumps into my throat, but then Christian adds, “It was a big deal to hold a girl’s hand back then.”

“So all the girls had to watch out for you? Christian Medina, holding hands and breaking hearts?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

From there we talk about a show he saw on TV and a class Brenda and Sally are taking. He doesn’t ask why I called so late, even when I apologize for waking him up. Soon, I hear his guitar through the phone, and I ask him what songs he’s playing. From there, our conversation switches to music.

There’s not a moment I feel stupid for calling him in the middle night—only glad that I did.

…

I’m brushing my hair the next morning when there’s a knock on my bedroom door. “Come in.” I don’t bother to turn, since I can see the door in the mirror. Dad comes inside with a frown on his face.

“The boy from next door is here. Christian? He wants to see if you need a ride to school.” The tone of his voice, confusion mixed with something I don’t understand, tells me he doesn’t think this is a good idea. Dad never would have cared before if I got a ride to school with a boy. It puts a small dent in my new armor.

“Okay.” I shrug. “He’s just being nice.”

Dad sighs, looking older than he should. “Brynn…I’m not sure.” He shakes his head. “I just don’t know.”

Each of his words is like a little hammer, chipping away at me. This is a dad. My dad. He’s not supposed to sound so unsure. He’s supposed to know everything. He’s supposed to trust me.

“You have your own car,” he adds.

“I know.” Which means I don’t really need a ride, but something inside me wants one. Wants to sit in the car and talk with him the way I did last night.

I turn to face him. “He’s just being nice. We’re only friends.” The words don’t sound as foreign on my tongue as I imagined they would.

He shakes his head in a way that says, I give up. I wish he wouldn’t give up on me so easily. Not like I don’t want to ride to school with Christian, but I don’t want it to be a big deal. Or maybe I want Dad to fight me on it, like it is one. For him to fight for me.

“Yeah, I guess,” he says. “Just be careful, okay?”

“We’re just friends, Dad,” I reiterate.

“Okay. I’ll see you after school.” With that, he turns and walks away. Setting my brush down, I look in the mirror one more time. Take a couple deep breaths and then head for the living room. Dad is walking out the door, leaving Christian standing right beside it.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who takes three hours to get ready every day? If so, I might have to rethink this whole carpool to save the universe thing.”

His words break the tension I didn’t even know I felt. “We’re saving the universe?”

“Carpooling. You know, decrease the amount of smog and all that.”

“What I meant is this is news to me.” I walk farther into the room. This friendship thing is easier than I thought it would be. I wish I’d tried it earlier.

He actually rolls his eyes at me. “I’m ashamed of you, Bryntastic. Here I thought you cared about the environment.”

“Whatever. You hardly seem like an environmentalist, but I’ll play along. You know, for the universe and all.”

“For the universe,” he says and tosses a gummy bear at me. “We’ll eat on it.” I catch it and plop it into my mouth. “Oh, and you drive tomorrow.”

I think I can handle that. I might even like it.

…

I feel like I’m in Twilight. Yes, the movie, the sparkling vampire. When Christian and I pull up at school together and get out of the car, people watch us. I admit it’s not everyone. Christian isn’t putting his arm around me and telling me we’re going to hell, but it’s still too similar for comfort. What was just an easy ride to school is now a million eyes on me. Looking…wondering.

Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.

“People are—” I cut myself off because I almost just became Bella. “Are we interesting or something?”

“What are you talking about?” Christian swings his backpack on his shoulder.

“People are looking at us.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re hot.” I whip my head toward him. “What?” he asks all innocently. “We are. But I think you’re trippin’ out. No one gives a shit what we’re doing, which is just walking into the school, by the way.”

It sounds so simple when he says it. Everything is so easy for him. He doesn’t get it, but then I remember what he said—what his mom said—and I remind myself things aren’t always easier for him. He just deals with it differently.

We separate when we get inside the building. The morning goes by just the same as every morning does.

I’m at my locker at lunchtime when something pushes into the back of my knees, making them buckle slightly. “Wha’cha doing, Bryntastic?” Christian asks.

Butterflies dance in my belly, making me wonder how and when I can get him back. “Since it’s lunchtime, I’m thinking about eating. I don’t know, it’s a tough call.”

“Wow. She has a sense of humor? I never would have known.” He winks. “Where are you eating?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

The halls are starting to clear out by now, people either flooding the cafeteria or the quad for the forty-five minutes of freedom. Christian slides down the lockers and sits on the floor by my feet. For the first time, I notice he has his guitar with him. “I feel like playing. Let’s eat here.”

He crosses his legs, his fingers lost on the strings in no time, leaving me feeling silly just standing there, so I grab my lunch bag, close my locker, and sit next to him.

He plays more.

And I eat.

Another song.