On Thursday I woke without remembering a single dream. I closed my eyes against the familiar wave of nausea and took deep, calming breaths. In and out. Slow. Easy. Calm. Don't move or blink, or let a single thought penetrate your serenity.
Find your inner peace, I commanded myself.
It wasn't immediate or, for that matter, complete. But five minutes passed, and then ten. The dizziness and nausea faded. Finally, I could stand without swaying, which allowed me to get ready without fear of my parents hearing me throw my cookies for the sixth day in a row.
I pulled on jeans and a black sweater to match my black boots and hurried to the kitchen for breakfast. My stomach growled to remind me of my skipped supper the night before as I stepped through the doorway, as though timing it to announce my presence. My parents looked up from the table where they sat reading the newspaper and sipping morning coffee. They regarded me as though the year of dealing with David's death on my own didn't count. The moment they learned the truth, it was like they saw me for the first time over the past year. Like... they suspected razors to be hidden in the pockets of my gray petticoat so that I could slit my wrists from the sadness of it all as soon as I was alone.
"Hi, Sweetie," my mother said and forced a cheerful smile. "How are you feeling?"
I shrugged. Funny how a simple revelation made after the fact can make you visible. It was kind of like a messed-up version of those movies where the geeky or unpopular girl gets a makeover and becomes instant eye candy. All the boys want her, and all the girls want to hate her, though everyone wants to be her friend just so they could be seen with her. Just like Suzie. But in the end, your only true friends are the ones you always had, the ones that didn't care about your social status. Again, Suzie was the perfect example, though she was never geeky or awkward.
This was the complete opposite of that.
My parents loved me. They didn't care about how I looked as long as I was happy. Well, maybe if I got piercings and tattoos, but that was irrelevant because ew. But if I was happy and had friends, and didn't get into trouble, they were happy to let me be me. My 'issues' were invisible.
Now that they knew about me and David? Not so much.
Why didn't I keep my mouth shut?
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Aww. My dad was so cute when he was awkward, like a great big teddy bear that could do curls with me in one arm and Suzie in the other, but still. I shook my head and walked over to the fridge.
"Nope." I poured myself a glass of OJ and sat at the table to eat the bacon and eggs with toast my mother had prepared. I didn't dare look up to meet their gazes, knowing one glance would crumble my resolve.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
I shrugged and ate nearly a half a slice of toast with just one bite, my mouth so full my cheeks bulged.
"Alyssa, answer your mother."
"I'msorrywhatdidyousay?" I asked, and crumbs flew in the air to land on the unclaimed portions of food at the center of the table.
"Alyssa."
"What? Dadmade..." I swallowed. "Dad told me to answer." I ate the other half of toast, shoving it in before another question could be lobbed at me.
It was unlucky that my dad thought just like me—or did I think like him? Instead of dealing with the problem, he bypassed it. With one swift movement, the food in front of me disappeared.
"Why didn't you tell us about David, Alyssa?"
Slowly counting to ten in my head to avoid saying the first thing that popped into my mind and later regretting it, I looked up to meet his watchful gaze. Hurt and confusion, regret and sadness. But not anger. No, he just wanted to understand. Why hadn't I told them when it happened? Why had I waited a year?
I sighed. "I don't want to talk about David, okay?"
"Honey—"
"It happened a year ago, Mom. Seriously. I'm sorry I snapped last night, but I didn't know what else to say to convince you that I'm fine."
"But you only knew the boy a few days," he wondered aloud.
My mouth dropped, and my mother cast a warning glance at him.
"How could you have the time?"
"This is why I didn't tell you!"
My mother raised her hands in front of her as though to calm us both at the same time, and my dad blinked, surprised by my reaction. And I thought teenage boys were dense. My dad might as well teach the freaking course!
"We knew each other for a week," I said between clenched teeth.
My mother dropped her hands and raised her eyes to the ceiling in defeat. Stubborn born from stubborn—the only way she would win peace was to wait until we'd both spoken our minds. Just like always.
Rinse, lather, and repeat.
"What does it matter how long we knew each other? He was a good person and someone you, as my father, should never question. If he hadn't died for me, I wouldn't be here right now. Do you get that, Dad? I would be dead. And don't tell me it couldn't be love, because I know how I felt. If he was still here, that wouldn't have changed."
"I don't think you understand—"
"Joe." My mother shook her head. "Enough."
He met her gaze. "But she was only sixteen."
"And now I'm almost eighteen," I cut in. "I'm tired of talking about this. For months, it is all Suzie made me talk about." I sighed, and my cheeks puffed out as my breath was released. "I have an idea. You told Suzie you want to throw me an eighteenth birthday party to celebrate me becoming an adult and make up for the parties I should have had but didn't. Perhaps you should treat me like I'm becoming the adult you're celebrating and stop minimizing how I feel?"
My mother froze so fast, it seemed comical. Of course, she was probably reacting to the possibility of a party—something I had always vetoed in the past—and her final chance to see me with friends while still in high school. Graduation wouldn't count. The planned after party would be so dry, we'd risk dehydration by attending. Not that that would last once the after-after party began.
"You and Suzie talked about having a party?"
"She said you talked to her about it," I said, eyeing my father before grabbing my plate back, and started chewing on a piece of bacon.
"I—we did." My mother smiled like she hoped I had agreed but wouldn't believe it until she heard it coming out of my mouth.
Even though my dad had returned to looking bored, I knew he was listening, just as attentive as she for my answer.
"Why didn't you guys talk to me first? You know how Suzie gets the moment she hears the word party."
"Like a pit-bull, that one."
"Thanks, Dad." I turned back to my mother. "That's why you asked her, isn't it? So I couldn't say no."
"Actually, no, but that didn't go unnoticed," she said, and smirked. "You were sick, and the hall had a last-minute cancellation, so we wanted to book it because we couldn't wait."
"Or we'd lose it," my father added.
I rolled my eyes at him and then turned to my mother. "What hall?"
"The one you took us to look at before your sixteenth birthday, just before you and Suzie..." My mother shook her head. "The hall you showed us before you and Suzie stopped hanging out together."
"That place is cursed."
"But you and Suzie are friends again," my mother said, leaning forward to grasp my hand, and I dropped it to my lap. "Maybe having your party there will close old wounds?"
Or they could open them back up.
After two years, I'd rather forget the day Suzie and I stopped being friends.
It was the kind of day you'd still remember at eighty-years-old, long after you forget your grandchildren's names and your own children are getting ready for retirement. It was the first cut, the day when your perfect world is revealed as the broken reflection of what once was and would never be again, no matter how hard you wished it to remain unaltered.
I had taken Suzie to the hall just after my parents had agreed to 'think' about a party there. We'd finished celebrating Suzie's birthday the night before, a supper with her family followed by a movie, just the two of us. I was so excited, I couldn't wait to share my news. But right after I told her my plans, she'd said she'd made the cheerleading squad; I hadn't even known she'd tried out.
Suzie had explained that the night planned for my party was no good for her. A game was scheduled, and now that she was a cheerleader, she couldn't miss it. In fact, she'd added, we should take a hiatus from being friends for a while. Just to give her time to get used to her new friends. So, I told my parents to forget the party and the next day, I met Tina. The night of my party Suzie had her own—in the hall I'd meant to rent. It was like homecoming, her belated Sweet Sixteen. The first celebration just wouldn't do. It was also the night her and Deryk became an item. I was happy for them, though it would take a miracle to heal the wound her actions had inflicted.
But... we were friends again. Tina was gone and the girls from the squad weren't as great as Suzie had hoped. Suzie realized she couldn't talk with them without it becoming gossip, and by her own admission, that meant they couldn't graduate into the realm of friends. Now, if I chose to forget that year, it was like we'd never spent a moment apart.
"Fine," I said before I changed my mind, and my chair screeched back as I gathered my dishes to set beside the sink. Pausing to look out the window, I nodded. "Book the hall."
Turning quickly, I held my breath as I left the kitchen.
They were all in for a surprise. Suzie hadn't asked where the party would be held, and I hoped when she clued in, she felt guilty. My parents didn't know they'd just talked me into a party shared with Suzie, but the bill they received would be enough to satisfy my sense of revenge over not being included from the start.
As for me?
I had no expectation of enjoying the party, but I would love watching them realize their ignorance.