Page 76 of Organized Chaos
It had been days since our return to New York. The last flight leaving Paris in the rearview mirror felt like the end of an era. It was only six and a half hours travel time to New York, but the two cities couldn’t be more different. And the view of the Upper West Side didn’t quite compare to the view of Paris from my old room.
The architecture in Paris was more unique. Life was more exciting. People were more interesting. No matter what, Paris still felt like home, and a small part of my heart would always remain there.
Life in New York had promptly resumed to normal. It was my senior year with college on the horizon. I should be working on my college applications but hadn’t found the motivation. Instead, I was preoccupied.
Though he played it off, Milo was hurt by my early departure from Nice. My brother was a busy man and had cleared his schedule with the expectation that we’d spend time together.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t bear to face Brandon. But leaving so hastily was inconsiderate since Milo went through the trouble of planning a mini-vacation for us.
My impulsiveness had overruled the best of my intentions yet again, making me appear ungrateful for the privileged life he provided.
Neither of us discussed my faux pas again, and I had been careful not to even mention Raven’s name. Things were still painfully awkward during our phone calls. From his line of comments, it was clear Milo was available if I needed anything. Otherwise, senseless chit-chat had become like pulling teeth. After a few phone calls of similar nature, I took the hint and left him alone.
There was a growing rift between us, and I had no idea how to fix it. I kept waiting for things to revert to normal and could hardly concentrate until they did.
Nonetheless, an onslaught of nannies still dropped by every evening, no doubt to report my progress to Milo. I did my best not to cause any trouble, hoping the positive feedback would improve our relationship.
So far, it hadn’t.
I glanced at my phone to find a message from Raven, asking if I had eaten breakfast. I took a photo of the yogurt I had been picking at and sent it to her.
The excitement of having Raven back was also starting to wear thin. Raven was full of warmth and always had a loving effect on our home. I had hoped we’d find the same vibrancy once she moved back. Perhaps do more sisterly things together. When we lived in Paris, we stayed up, watched movies, talked into the night. But Raven had been swamped with work, leaving me with my lonely thoughts. Lots of lonely nights, too, that had me missing the furnace to once wrap me in his warmth.
Brandon had roused something uncontrollable inside me. The naïve side of me never considered sexual revolution a rite of passage until I crossed that threshold. It was impossible to deny that life was lackluster without the burning passion Brandon had introduced.
Fucking Brandon.
It was such a precarious situation that I could never disclose the whole truth to anyone, even to Gabby.
I dropped my face in between my hands and groaned.
Perhaps, I simply needed to rid the thoughts of these sins. And what better day to do so than on God’s day.
When I was young, the only thing I did with Dad was to attend church together on Sundays. In our home, there was a fifty-fifty split on religion. Reid and I were avid believers, whereas Raven and Milo were atheists.
Milo struggled to understand how someone like me, who loved science, believed in a higher power. In my opinion, optimism and realism could peacefully coincide. The same dash of optimism could get me out of this funk.
A spontaneous idea crossed my mind.
My fingers hovered over the lock screen of my phone before typing out a text, asking Raven and Reid to join me for church.
“No way!”
The group thread with Reid and Raven blew up. Not only had they agreed, but they suggested grabbing lunch afterward. With a renewed sense of purpose, I peeled myself off the sill.
Heartbreak had fogged my mind. How I had been acting, it wasn’t me. I wasn’t a pessimistic person. I needed to return to my roots and look at life through positive lenses.
Teeming with a new spirit, I searched my closet for a church-friendly outfit and, within the hour, left my house in slacks, a sweater, and a puffy jacket.
A beautiful day awaited me outside. It was the day all the hurt and pain would be replaced with purpose. I just needed to redirect my focus to something better.
“Where to?” The cab driver asked, chewing on a toothpick that stuck out.
I spat out the address and leaned back against the seat. There were rips on the seat's fabric, and it was in desperate need of an upgrade. I wasn’t bothered. The point of today was to start fresh with an optimistic outlook.
When we arrived, the cab driver peered out of the driver’s side window as I dug through my purse for the fare. I could feel his sidelong glance. It was unusual for someone my age to voluntarily attend church alone. Most teenagers were dragged to church by their family members.
“Here you go.” I handed him the cash and hopped out.
