“I always knew I was an excellent liar; I just didn't know that I had it in me to fool myself.” - Lauren DeStefano, Wither
The old truck was roaring with heat as I pulled up to our house. A little white country home with black shutters, peeling paint, and a second story window that felt like an eyeglass of the world when you look out. That's where my room was, the window seat was where I had spent my time while writing my first story. Like my table at Le Petit, things just seemed clearer there.
I led my dad out of the truck and straight through the unlocked front door, flipped the nearest switch and left to find the blankets and hot chocolate. The inside was just how I remembered after mom died because dad never did feel like making any changes. The kitchen was still a faded dark green and living room a shade of tan that mom insisted was completely different from every other tan room in the house. The brown carpet was all that was different, plush and new-smelling. Almost like a new beginning.
Dad huddled in the thick blankets I brought him as I heated some water in the microwave. He and I were both shivering, my unconscious mind took over as my legs moved about. Turning up the heat, collecting sweaters, stirring hot chocolate dry mix, and searching for some vitamin C pills. It was nice knowing I could still come back and everything would be the same, I could rely in my dad for that. He would always be there for me, and that's something I can never take for granted.
His body began to warn up as the events of the last few hours became clear in his mind. His face was frozen for a new reason, he was ashamed of his foolishness. It's not like I haven't seen it before. Everyone remembers the first time they saw the strongest person in their life cry, for real. It is the first time you begin to realize that no one, no matter how tough they have to be, is going to start to crack and break. I just happened to be a sixteen-year old girl who saw her father shatter before her eyes. Then, I had to be the glue. No matter how strong the glue is, even it fails sometimes.
I sat next to him on the couch, fingers like icicles, and began my lecture that I just had to get out of my system. “What were you thinking? I would have come, you know. One message would have brought me here, you didn't have to worry me half to death.” I said the word without thinking, and just saw the tiny recoil in my father's reaction, regretting it instantly. “You didn't have to wait in the pouring rain for me, dad. Mom would have wanted you to take care of yourself.” The more I went on, my intensity lessoned until I was speaking more soothingly. “Please, take care of yourself.”
I wrapped my arm through his and put my head on his shoulder. If being in my house didn't give me a warm feeling inside, smelling his cologne did. I was his little girl again, just like that, when he hugged me goodnight. I wasn't mad at him, just distressed.
“I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking.” he apologized, I could feel the vibration as he spoke.
“It's alright, I was just worried.”
We stayed silent for a moment, just like that we were okay again. We could never go a day fighting after mom left to be with Jesus, we were all each other had. Both my Grandparents had met their time, from old age, sickness, or military service.
Then I realized, at that moment he was all I had. Overwhelming sadness ran through me like a raging river. I'd pushed away my Bria-the closest thing I ever had to a sister-Sophie and Henry in one night, and Elliot with my stubbornness and plain stupidity. I didn't even feel worthy of their love anymore. All I did was my fault, I took things too far. I catapulted the worm, I tried to seduce Elliot, I used Henry, I turned my back on everyone. I looked back and wondered how the Addy I am could ever do all those things. “It's a slow fade when black and white are turned to gray.” My life turned to a game of Jenga; first pulling the easy blocks and making the safe decisions. But when I still hadn't won, the bricks I pulled left the tower unbalanced and unsteady. All it took was one last pull to send everything crumbling.
I sighed on his shoulder, frowning. He gave me a look, and soon the questions came.
“What's wrong, Ad?”
I stared at my fingers as they twiddled with a string from the blanket I was wrapped in. “You're not the only one that's made some pretty heavy mistakes recently.”
He pushed my thought away, insisting whatever it was wasn't that bad. Because Adelaide Maddox doesn't make huge errors, but Addy does.
“I don't even want to tell you half the things I did, they're that bad. All I want is a time machine to go back to a month ago so I can fix the error that started it all.”
He unlooped our arms to put his around my tiny shoulders, squeezing in reassurance. “That's the thing though, Addy. You can't; and from the way you're talking, I'm not the one you should be telling all this to.”
“I don't think they want to hear it.”
“Then make them hear it! You have every right to apologize and be forgiven.”
I turned to him and very honestly asked, “Could you ever forgive a person who broke your heart?”
He thought on it for a moment. I waited in wonder, knowing that was one of those few times where my dad would say something so insightful, so deep, that I was sure he was more than human. That, or he'd read it somewhere. I would never ask, the magic would be lost. “Depends, if they still had the pieces, I'd do it in a second. If not, they could go screw themselves.”
With that, I erupted into laughter. My girly, out of breath, raspy one, mixing with my dad's too loud and booming chuckle.
“So,” I said through little giggles, “There's still a chance he'll forgive me?”
“He?” My dad questioned. Of course he would notice the slight change in pronouns.
“I told you it's a long story!”
Again, he squeezed me tighter, his jaw becoming tight, also. “Any guy would be lucky to have their heart stolen by you. You're a gem, just like your mother.”
It was like flicking a light switch, we stopped talking about me and started talking about her.
We talked about her while sipping her favorite kind of hot cocoa, we looked at pictures of their wedding day. The way her silky white dress fit perfectly around her tiny waist and she could not have beamed bigger. My parents truly loved each other. The pride was still in my father's face as he talked about his bride, and I wondered if I would ever have that. I thought that maybe I had screwed things up for good, and any chance I had with the guy that just might be right for me, was gone.
It was a day of reminiscing. I tried to cook mom's famous lasagna, tried being the affirmative word. We watched a movie she loved, and I knew which parts I would have heard her laugh at. We told stories, we talked, we laughed. It was amazing just to have a day to completely remember her, to remind myself of things I had almost forgotten. The cake we bought through the Dairy Queen drive-thru wasn't fancy. But I still smiled as we blew out the candles together and sang to her. It never felt right to just keep living without her, and if this was what I takes to keep some part of my mom in my life, I'd do it everyday.
It was nighttime, the moon was high and the rain had stopped hours ago. My hair was wet from a shower and the clothes I wore were too tight. Dad had found them stuffed in the corner of my old closet. I sat cross-legged across from him on the couch, willing my eyes to stay open.
“Dad, I'm sorry for not making an effort to see you. I was wrong.”
He nodded. “It's alright honey, I understand completely. I know you don't want to leave, but I can tell you're still bothered about your friends. Go back tomorrow, reconcile. We always have more time.”
He seemed to sure that we were... infinite. Truth be told, every time I left him, I was scared it was the last time.
“I can stay longer-”
“No, Addy. Don't push this off, they're your friends and they deserve your apologies. The longer you put it off, the harder it gets. I know a thing or two about grudges, they only get worse with time. I'll be here when you get back.”
“Will you?” I whispered, unable to keep my thoughts contained in my head.
“Yes, I will be.”
“How can you be so sure?” I cried, lips trembling.
“Because,” he shrugged.
“Because is an adverb, making it a modifier, only what it modifies would count as a reason, dad!”
A smile grew on his shaggy face, “Look at you, all grown up and correcting your father.”
Then I hugged him again.
“You will come back because you still have to tell me the story.” He consoled, rubbing his thumb along my arm
“Let's just hope it has a happy ending,” I muttered a yawn, and exhaustion took over. I dragged my feet up the stairs after wishing him a good night, crawled under the quilt that now covered my mattress, and fell into a deep sleep. In the last moments before my eyes closed for the night, I thought about our last conversation. I needed to not be so worried about things like that. When life takes punches, you just gotta let them roll off.
Saying goodbye was slightly difficult the next morning. Dad had to get back to work and I had a three hour drive to New York back to all the people that currently hated me. I thought about what he'd said. If no one accepted my sincere apology, there was no other choice than to start over.
He hugged me tightly outside on the patio, once again saying he would see me soon, I promised the very same. We had spent such a short time together and only talked about mom, there was still so much future catching up to do. With one last wave as I started up Henry's truck I began to leave Eastaven.
A last second decision took me around town and back to the familiar road that I took to school every day. Eastaven was a small town, bigger than many others. It's population was at a steady incline, but the latest count had it around six-thousand. The school was in session when I passed it. From the outside looking in, that red brick building held a lot of memories. I had spent defining years of my life in those classrooms. I'd met my testers and trials, learned just how real the world gets the more years you have under your belt. I found my passion in the English classroom and library. I learned to live on, to keep going.
I didn't stop to go to the main office and get the alumni tour. But instead I took one look back at it through the rear view mirror as I disappeared down the road. Somehow, it felt like clearance.
I started with Bria, she's had her own fair of mistakes and I knew she would be the one to understand. She called me, apologizing for her outburst before I could say I was sorry for mine. Things were that easy for us, it was like nothing happened. I went into detail about all the stupid things I had done, and she just knew that I really meant it. That was it, no more drama. I love that about our relationship, any sort of trouble or stupid move is removed from our brain, like wiping a dry-erase board. We wouldn't mention the fight, because honestly, it didn't matter anymore.
All that was left was a lot of catching up to do, later. She wished me luck with Henry, I could hear the suggestiveness in her voice. Bria put me at such an ease, I missed her outwardness and exclamations. We would have to make up for lost time. Maybe it was my turn to go and see her. Just as I felt relaxed about my long day of apologies, all anxiousness returned as I pulled up to Little Black Book.
I was going to hit two birds with one stone, both Elliot and Marissa deserved my apologies. In my reflection, I came to realize that I had made Marissa out to be a villain, evil and vain. She was just like me, fighting for a guy she felt something for. I knew nothing about their relationship, but they had to have something. She was nothing but nice to me after she thought I had backed off and no doubt I hurt her when I tried to kiss Elliot. Marissa wasn't my biggest enemy, we were competitors and not very good sports. I judged her way before I even knew the girl.
I strolled in through the door after walking over a block from a free parking garage. I was wearing faded blue jeans that were naturally worn and itchy, my dad's Pittsburgh Steeler's sweatshirt fell to mid-thigh and I had no speck of makeup on for the first time in nearly two weeks. I walked through the door with the biggest smile on my face, finally feeling like myself again. I tucked a strand of my wild hair behind my ear as I approached the desk. Marissa had glanced up once before and from the way she was moving things on her desk around randomly, I knew she was just trying to appear busy. I leaned forward on the raised counter, biting my lip and waiting patiently for her to give into submission.
I watched as she sighed, let her head fall, and then peaked up at me and said, “What do you want?”
“To say I'm sorry.”
She scoffed, turned to the phone and put it to her ear. Maybe if she had been on the phone with someone, I would have been polite like I had tried to be. All I wanted was to get it over with. And fast.
“He's yours,” I called and stopped when her head perked up, “Elliot is all yours, I've been thinking I should switch editors, too.” I spoke more feebly as she gave me her full attention, “I shouldn't have done what I did. And I'm sorry I was such a witch.”
For a moment Marissa showed no emotion before a smile quickly formed and then was replaced by a half-snort, half-chuckle. She rolled her head back up to look at me directly as she apologized, “And I'm sorry, too. I was the one that started the cattiness.”
“We're still not even.”
“I say we are.” she said curtly. “Elliot might need more convincing. But you and I, we're good.” Marissa gave a tight smile, then the phone started to ring and I walked toward the elevator to leave her alone. With the phone stuck between her shoulder and head, she called out just as the doors dinged open, “See you around, Addy.”
I smiled back, “See you,”
I shook my hands from nervousness, anything to keep moving and literally get the jitters out of me. I had chosen to save the worst two for last, figuring that Elliot would forgive me more easily than Sophie and Henry. Marissa's words had me half scared to death, and I almost didn't get out off the elevator when it ringed on the seventh floor. That same floor where Madge took care of me, her little kid stuck in the big city. The same office where I had danced around after reading reviews, stayed up until the wee hours of the morning working through difficult chapters and plot holes I dug myself into. That was the office where I fell for the wrong person, even though it felt so right.
Nothing could settle my nerves as I knocked on the door, that same open crack that would bother me endlessly was enough for me to be able to peak in and see that Elliot was sitting at his desk, working away as he called “Come in,” without so much as a glance upward.
A few days before, I would have fixed my hair, swayed my hips a little, and felt extreme embarrassment for the way I looked. (My hair had taken on a bush-like quality after I had neglected to give it some attention.) All of that was the last thing on my mind as I stepped inside reluctantly and willed myself to speak as Elliot froze what he was doing, pen in mid-air. His eyes were hard and his expression solid.
“I have something to say.”
“Obviously,” he spit back. I took a deep, cleansing breath, repeating the words 'Let it roll off' over and over in my mind. I had made them my unofficial motto for the day.
“I'm switching editors,” I blurted.
He snapped up and quickly fired “Why?”
“Well. . . I, um just figured it'd be. . . easier?” I proposed, shrugging and fitting my hands deep into my jean pockets. “Things might be kind of awkward between us, no. I mean, like after I went and messed things up really stupidly with my crush on you. Which was tiny by the way, and totally over. Microscopic actually, like a grain of salt in the ocean, totally lost, never coming back. Like, ever! I just figured that it would be better if I got a really old man or even a girl for my editor, maybe one from Dubai, culture variety and all that. Do you want me to leave, because I can-”
“I want you to stop rambling on like a crazy person.” Elliot cut me off, finally. I was losing breath, but everything just kept coming out, like word vomit.
“Okay,”
While I had rambled on and on about useless things, Elliot couldn't even find the words. He would open his mouth, look like he was going to say something, then close it just as quickly.
“I don't want you to switch editors.” He finally concluded. “I get the whole. . . thing that happened, kind of, but I don't want you to switch. I came here to help you, and I want to finish number six. After that, do whatever the hell you want, Addy.”
“Let me get this straight,” I started, the gears turning in my head. “You want to edit my book so you can have your name in a New York Time's Number One? Is that it?” I hissed furiously.
Men should always be scared of angry women, especially angry women you rejected.
“No! No! No!” he exclaimed as I crossed my arms defensively and glared. “That's not it at all!”
“Then why?”
“Because, you're nice, and sweet, and successful, and pretty-”
And you wonder why you led me on, I thought.
“Can you stop telling me how great I am, it's not really helping with the whole apologizing process?” I snapped. He was silent and I knew it was time for me to take control and give the verdict for the future of our relationship. “After number six is done, I'm finding a new editor. And our time spent together will be completely professional.”
Elliot nodded, seeming to understand. “Speaking of working on the book, a new deadline has been set, and if you plan on reaching it, we need to do some serious work. Today would be preferable.”
“I can't do that, I have other people I need to see.”
“Addy, I'm serious, this needs to get done.” He ordered, switching from confusing boy language straight to hard-core editor, it almost was a relief.
I started inching to the door, faked checked a watch I wasn't wearing and said hurriedly, “Well, look at the time, better be going!” before taking off down the hall.
“Addy!” Elliot called from his office while I quick walked/ jogged away.
“I'll work on it tonight!” I assured, stepping into the elevator and descending as quickly as possible.
Two down, two to go.
Let Petit was near closing when I made it there after parking Henry's truck back in the garage. The sign reading 'closed' had been flipped over and one of the lights was already turned off. I knew better, though. Sophie and Henry would be cleaning up and then closing for the night. I was less than enthusiastic about how things had gone with Elliot. Honestly, I wanted him and his flirty ways out of my life. He's just the kind of guy I could see myself falling for over and over again, and never learning to resist. I was stuck where I was, now. No turning back. I just wish he wouldn't be so darn likable.
Sophie was washing the counter tops when I came in, the ringing bells alerting her to my presence.
She gazed up, frowned, and then put her head back down. I was getting that look a lot lately, and I didn't like it.
“Soph,” I whined, making my way closer to her. She acted like I wasn't there, another safeguard I had to break through. All of it was becoming quite exhausting. But Sophie was different, her heart wasn't in it. “You know me, you know how bad I feel right now. Believe me when I say I am sorry. I'm going to start being me again.”
She twisted to look at me, “I know, it's not really me that deserves the apology. I had some hand in all of this. Don't get me wrong, I'll take it. But, I don't need it.” Her head cocked just slightly to the back of the shop. “I'll leave you two,”
Standing in the shadows was Henry, his face uncaring at my sight and body leaned over the a broom handle as he methodically pushed dirt around.
He was Harry Potter Boy, the person I had overlooked countless of times, he had been a person I could always trust to banter with me, he was a geek. Both of us knew what it felt like to fade in the background. The big difference between us was that Henry didn't care, or never had until I came along. Just knowing that I was the first person to twist that heart of his in this cruel world, made my blood turn to ice.
“You're allowed to be pissed at me.” I said first as we stared at each other, each just as quiet and emotionless as the other. Me, because I didn't know which emotion to show as dozens flooded through me. “I know I would be.”
He chuckled a sad laugh, one that only shows just how not funny a situation is. "That's the thing, no matter how hard I try, I still can't be completely mad at you. And it's driving me crazy." Henry was exasperated, strung out to the very end of his rope. His eyes were dilated and tired, hair cast all over under his cap.
"I'm sorry," I started, words failing, "It wasn't supposed to happen this way, I wasn't supposed to hurt anyone . . ."
"I understand, I'm just lucky enough to be the casualty in your little war." He shrugged, trying not to show just how much it bothered him.
Again, there was silence. "Is it too bold of me to ask for a second chance?"
"Why do you want one? Because you feel sorry for me? You want a boyfriend? Why?" Henry fired harshly.
Strangely, I didn't think before responding, "Because you're the only guy I've ever met that has knows the real me and likes her better than the girl that's put together. You know I can be vindictive, and naive, and you're still here. You make me laugh and feel like I'm not the only person left in the world who's too immature for their age. Because... you're weird, like me."
He sighed as he mulled my speech over. "I hardly know anything about you."
"My name is Adelaide Maddox, my friends call me Addy. My mom died when I was sixteen. I live in an apartment all by myself with my two fish, Timon and Pumba. I like vanilla pudding better than chocolate, and have mastered the art of procrastination I spend more time in this coffee shop than anywhere else even though I don't drink coffee. Peanut butter is my weakness along with sappy romantic movies. I don't think I'm good enough to be as successful as I am, and definitely not good enough for you, Henry. But I wish I was."
And then, Harry Potter Boy smiled.
And came closer to me.
And for the first time in my life, I finally knew what 'closing the distance' felt like.
His large hand was around the back of my neck and as his lips locked onto mine. His shoulders were hunched over so Henry could reach me and I was on my tippy toes. And for once I was thankful of how much I knew about first kiss scenes because my arms found their way around his shoulders. And I had my first kiss in a coffee shop at twenty-one years old.
And it was worth the wait.
As I had promised my editor, I went back to my apartment that night and glanced over the pages of notes and tidbits of my new story I'd been writing. Then, the strangest thing happened, I took them all in one big bunch, and tossed them away in the trash. The idea of a anti-love character still stood, but new ideas formed in my mind. After everything I had been through, there was new knowledge circling around. Things about revenge, being a girl, losing the people that mean the most to you, loving someone who isn't right for you, and what it means to be yourself. Things I wanted to share with my readers.
Being a teenager isn't about forming fantasies about what your love life should be and dating any cute guy you can get your hands on; it's about figuring out what you stand for, who you're going to be. Not even in the occupational sense, but things that make you, you. I wanted to give my girls (and boys) a little insight about someone who's made the mistakes, who's gone to hell and back and lived to tell the tale. I wanted them to buy my book and read it so many times that the spine starts to come apart because every page they turn makes them feel less alone in this world. And I knew that I didn't need the most original plot or character to inspire people with my story.
So I wrote a book about a girl who falls in love way too easily, with a heart with gaping holes because she has always given pieces away, but never received. I gave her a past with hardships and a vengeful and fighting spirit, on a mission to take back all those pieces from the boys that stole them. It wasn't original or perfect or what people were expecting. But it was my book, and the more I wrote, the more I realized how perfectly imperfect it truly was.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Feels rushed :/ All that I'm concerned with is getting this story done, I can edit after the deadline.
All that's left is the epilogue. How crazy is that!? Remember to comment, vote, all that shiz because my goal is to nominated in the Watty's in the Undiscovered catagory. So pleeeeeasse!!
*Note* I forgot the add that Addy sings "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" because it was on replay during her mom's wake, on like a slideshow thingy. I'll add it in, but just so you know, that's why.
Thanks for reading!
<3 thatcrazybookworm