Searching for Beautiful
Page 32Christian shrugs. “Maybe, but maybe not. Like you said, we might never know. Regardless, it’s not your fault.”
“Who knows if it is. All I do know is I don’t want to question it anymore. I don’t want there to be a possibility.”
He gives me his half grin. His hair is hanging around his face and he’s cute. So freaking hot. I like him. And it’s okay. It doesn’t make me weak unless I let it, unless I make myself need him. And he’s not automatically like Jason, either.
“You were right the other day, Christian. I wasn’t fighting. I’ve completely given up on everything since I lost Mom and I’m not doing that anymore. I’m taking my life back.”
Another grin.
“I’m sorry for not trusting you. Or for not admitting…that I like you. That I’ve liked you since I was in seventh grade. I cried in the bathroom because you asked me to dance, Christian Medina. After Jason, it was all so scary to admit, but I’m not going to let myself be scared anymore.”
“Hey. It’s okay. I—”
“Wait.” I hold up my hand. “I need to get this out. You weren’t innocent, either. I get wanting to be strong, but you have to realize not everyone deals the way you do. You put a lot of pressure on people and I understand that it comes from a good place, but you don’t cut anyone any slack. We’re all different.”
He nods at me. “You’re right. I talked to Mom over Christmas break. She let me know that girls aren’t the only ones who are a little loco. Apparently I can be, too.” He stands. “I’m sorry, Bryntastic.”
We’re standing close. So very close I can see every color in his eyes. I can see how deep they go on, and that makes me smile.
“So…you’ve liked me since the seventh grade, huh?” He winks.
“Did I say that? That’s not what I meant.” I take a deep breath, getting serious again. “I wanted to go with you to the dance, but it was hard for me. I should have told you this before, but dances are very connected to my memories of Mom.”
“Well, that makes me feel like an asshole. I wish you would have told me.”
“Me too. I’m tired of holding everything in. And…” I take a deep breath. “Christian, will you go to the dance with me?”
He smiles. A big, huge, real smile that makes my heart go wild.
“Are you asking me on a date or are we going as friends?”
My heart speeds up even more. My palms sweat. I’m scared and excited, but can’t wait to do this. I answer him with something other than words. Pushing up on the tips of my toes, I kiss him. Our lips press together in a series of kisses, but I retreat before I let my tongue dip into his mouth. He tastes sweet like gummy bears. He kisses as smoothly and with the same skill that he plays guitar.
My arms wrap around his neck and Christian’s around my waist. It’s the same way we danced all those years ago. He deepens the kiss. Pulls me closer, and I try to push even closer to him. It goes straight to my head and my stomach and I think I just feel him everywhere. Christian Medina. The boy I used to talk to Mom about. I know she would be happy for me now.
“Yes. I am so saying yes.” He kisses me again and I get even dizzier than the first time. I touch the hair that I’ve admired for so long and sweep my tongue across his and wonder if there is anything better in the whole wide world than kissing this boy.
“I have something for you.” I grab my bag and pull out my gift for Christian. The first piece I’ve made since Mom died. He takes it from me, traces the guitar patterns, and the pictures of a couple dancing and the— “Bears?” he asks.
“Gummy bears.”
Christian leans forward and his lips press to my forehead. “It’s incredible. You’re really talented.”
“Thank you.”
He looks at it again. “It’s beautiful.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”
It didn’t take him saying it for me to know it.
Epilogue
I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom. My hair is down in long red curls that took forever to do. I have makeup on, but not too much. Just right, I think. Mom was always very particular about makeup. She told me less is more and that it shouldn’t take away from natural beauty. I’m not surprised that she was right.
I run a hand down the front of my dress, which is a beautiful shade of red, too. It bums me out that I got rid of all my old red clothes because of Jason. Never again.
“You look hot. Stop staring at yourself.” Emery steps up beside me. I shake my head at her.
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m funny.”
She is. We both know it. “I wish you were going with us.” I turn and lean against my dresser.
“Eh.” She shrugs. “I’m a lot of things, but a high school dance crasher isn’t one of them.”
“You wouldn’t be crashing. I could have gotten you a guest pass.”
She doesn’t reply to that. Instead, she walks over to my bed, sits down, and kicks up her feet. “I probably shouldn’t do much dancing. I always loved it, though. We’ll go sometime. Once the baby comes, things will be different.” There’s a sad edge to her voice. A few weeks ago, I probably would have ignored it, but now, I won’t. Walking over, I sit beside her.
She pauses, taking a couple deep breaths before she replies. “A little. I mean, who expects to give birth to a baby at our age? And knowing that I’m giving her up…” Another pause. She wipes her eyes. “I know in my heart it’s the right choice. It’s the best thing for my little girl and for me, but it’s scary, too. Scary and sad.”
I put a hand on her leg to comfort her. It’s not something I would have expected to be able to do. Once I told about Max, I was so scared she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It was a few days before she showed up at the center again, but when she did, she came right up, sat with me, and invited me to go see a movie with her.
We went the next day, and then we went out for ice cream a couple days later. This morning she came out to my pottery room with me and drew while I worked on a piece. I like that we share a love of art.
We haven’t talked about Max. She knows I told. The look is always there in her eyes, but I think her asking me to that movie was her way of saying it’s what she really wanted me to do all along. I know how easy it is to feel something—to need it, but not be able to put it into words. I am glad to have been her voice.
It’s amazing sometimes how much easier things are if someone takes the choice out of your hands. I’m sixteen. I don’t want to worry about the big stuff. I have time for that later.
Right now, I just want to be young and have fun.
And I know one day, she’ll be able to be her own voice.
“That’s understandable…being scared. I think you’re being a great mom, though.”
She cocks her head, her eyes wet. “But I’m giving her away. How does that make me a good mom?”
I think about my mom and dad and about the woman who gave me away. I don’t know anything about her. Never wanted to, but I know she did the right thing. I know I was meant to be a De Luca girl. Meant to dance with Mom and do pottery and hear her stories about love. Mom and Dad were my destiny, and the mother who birthed me made the best choice for me by giving me a chance to find them.
“Because you’re making a hard decision, one that people might not understand, but you’re doing it because you know it’s best for her. I think my mother would have said that’s what being a mom is about. That beautiful kind of love. Doing what’s right for someone else, even though it will hurt you.”
I gasp when Emery leans forward and pulls me into a tight hug. My arms wrap around her, embracing her back. We don’t talk for a few seconds, and them Emery pulls away. “Thank you,” she tells me.
I smile at her. “No problem.”
“No…not about that. Well yes, about that, but also about Max…for telling. I wouldn’t have had the guts to do it, but I know I needed to get away from him.”
It’s the most perfect thing she can say to me. I squeeze her hand, trying to show her how much those words mean to me. It’s so hard, not knowing if you’re doing the right thing. Not knowing where betrayal lies and just wanting the best for someone else. Right and wrong isn’t always clear. Or maybe it is, if we really take the time to look. From now on, I’m looking.
“I didn’t want to betray you, but I wanted you to be okay.”
“I am. Or I will be.” Before I can keep the conversation going, she adds, “What time are you leaving?”
It will be the first time I’ve seen Ian outside of school since we talked, too. Clearing the air with him was something I felt I had to do. He was more hurt than I realized when things fell apart after Mom died. Ian and I were so back-and-forth and up-and-down, but what I didn’t know was that he’d sort of gotten used to that. I didn’t realize he cared more than he showed, and even though he’s the one who dumped me, he thought we’d get back together. It’s not that he loved me, but I was comfortable, and breaking up for good pulled him out of that zone he was used to.
There’s a soft knock on my door. Glancing to the right, I see Dad standing there. “Christian’s here.”
Emery nudges me and I stand. “You guys will be great,” she says.
Dad walks over and touches my hair. “You look beautiful, dolcezza.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“Your mother would have loved to see you right now.”
I close my eyes and could swear I feel her. Her sunshine on my skin and her smile in my heart. “She sees me,” I tell him and know it’s true.
“I think you’re right.”
Emery and I follow Dad out of my room. Christian is standing by the door in a black suit. His hair is loose around his face like always and those too-blue eyes are pinned right on me. My heart does a somersault.
“I told you he was gorgeous,” Emery whispers.
“He is,” I reply.
Dad takes a million pictures before asking Christian to come over for dinner the next night. That Dad and I are making sauce.
Christian and I drop Emery off at her house, where we make plans to meet up in a couple days. She’s going to come over and draw while I work on my pottery.
Afterward we head out with our other friends for dinner. The only interaction between Ian and me is a quiet hello but it’s something. It’s a start.
There are a couple awkward moments as we are all navigating friendship again, but there are more laughs, girl trips to the bathroom, and I can’t help but remember the last dance we all went to together. Where I cried in the bathroom because I thought I was in love with the boy who’s sitting at a table waiting for me right now.
We go to the dance and that same boy wraps his arms around me and we move together with much more skill than we did in seventh grade. He whispers in my ear again that I’m beautiful, and his sweet, sugary scent is so familiar.
It’s funny how life moves in a complete circle sometimes. There might be lots of bumps in the road and maybe even a few cliffs, but it’s a journey, and sometimes it can bring you to the most wonderful places.