Page 19 of Told You So
“Sure it’s not,” I mutter.
“I’dnever avoid you, Nick,” Anna Marie chirps. “You’re too sweet.” She tilts her head, her smile stretching from ear to ear, and I appreciate her trying to keep the mood light.
With a wink at her, I cross my arms over my chest. “So, what celebratory drink will it be? A whiskey sour for you?”
Bethany nods. “Please.”
“And, let me guess,” I say with a knowing smile. I wink at Anna. “A bottle of bubbles? You know, Brady only stocks that stuff for you.”
“He better,” she says, matter of fact. “If it weren’t for me, he’d be out of business.” She laughs at her own gibe, and I like her all the more for it.
Bethany glances between us.
“All right, bubbles and a whiskey sour, coming right up.” I wink at Anna one last time and head back to the bar. I can feel Bethany’s eyes on me this time.
Good.
Five
Bethany’s Journal
April 9th
Yep, it’s me, Beth. I was going through a box of things in my closet yesterday, searching for my old scrapbooking stuff so I could help Jesse with his theme park idea board, and I stumbled across you. The last time I wrote was over ten years ago, according to my last entry. I don’t know if I’ll find the same comfort writing my thoughts down as I used to, but I figure it’s worth a shot. I refuse to call you a diary anymore, though. Hope you don’t mind. I have a half hour before my next class, so now is as good a time as any to start up again, I guess.
I was just a kid the last time I wrote. Mom and Dad hadarguingbeen arguing and I was certain they were going to send Jesse away. I was a mess. Unfortunately, that’s also the day I met Nick for the first time. I’d seen him at school, but I’d never talked to him before. Nick was the boy I didn’t know but decided to confide in that day because he cared when no one else did. He asked me why I was crying, so I told him the truth, at least as I saw it at the time: my parents were horrible people, they didn’t care about us, they didn’t even want Jesse, and I wanted to die. When social services showed up, I knew it was because of what I’d shared. They interviewed all of us and treated my dad like a criminal, especially when they saw Jesse’s bruises from one of his tantrums. My dad is a lot of things, but he’s not violent. I looked like an idiot for thinking they were actually going to get rid of my brother when really, they were arguing about sending him to an Applied Behavioral Analysis program for Autistic children, which never happened because my mom was against it from the start anyway. I’d blown it all out of proportion, and while my mom had smoothed everything over, my dad made sure I knew I’d made a mess of things. It’s been a scarlet letter I’ve been branded with since.
I wasesctaticecstatic the day my mom first told me I was going to have a baby brother. I didn’t think at eleven-years-old I would have a sibling. My mom was happy, too, I could hear it in her voice, but there was a sadness in her also. I could see it in her eyes. It was weird, and she’s been sad ever since. Now, I can only assume it’s because Jesse toggles the spectrum, but shouldn’t a mother love her son unconditionally, like I love him?
My parents can barely be in the same room together, and my dad jumps at every opportunity to leave town. He comes back from a two-week trip today and we’re having a family dinner. It’s laughable. We aren’t a family. We’re people living in a house together. That’s why family dinners are pointless, and my mom making them a priority only pisses me off. Every stilted conversation or wordless minute that goes by is a glaring reminder of how much I fucked everything up. The weirdest part of it all is that I hate that Nick knows about so much of it, but I also hate that he doesn’t know the half of it, either. – B
Six
Bethany
Seven Years Ago
The autumn night air is cool, but I’m glad I didn’t bring a jacket. It feels good to be outside, away from the stuffy house and my parents. I hate them sometimes. They’re never satisfied.
Jesse might not be an easy kid, but his speech is getting better and he’s barely five. At least he’s forming words when the doctors weren’t sure he ever really would. And, I might be struggling with my grades, but I try. I tryreallyhard. It doesn’t matter that I practice Jesse’s numbers and letters with him all the time, when I should be doing my own homework or hanging out with my friends, like a normal freshman.
My footsteps quicken down the street. The further away I walk from my block, the lighter I feel. All I can hear is my dad’s disappointment. I want his voice out of my head for one single night.
I try and fail to keep his scathing words from my mind, and I wrap my arms tighter around me. I wish he knew how much it already bothered me that I scored badly on my history test, especially since I studied. He doesn’t always have to make me feel worse.
As soon as Anna Marie’s house comes into view, the tightness in my chest goes away a little, and, gratefully, my mind starts to wander. There are a ton of cars outside, which means Anna got her wish—her party is clearly a hit, even if her parents will freak if they ever find out.
Pushing every thought of my parents away, I hurry up to the porch.Tonightisgoing to be epic,I remind myself as I step inside the house. Britney Spears’s nasally voice punctuates the electropop bumping inside, and I nearly giggle when I see all the people.
The house looks the same as it always does, only with a mass of bodies. The sitting room is filled with freshmen and upperclassman, chatting and laughing and bouncing to the music.This is a house party. My parents would freak.I feel giddy, thinking about the possibilities of the night. Cute boys. Booze. Dancing...Tonight, I want to be brave and do something fun and crazy. I want tonight to be epic.
I scan the crowd for a comforting face, but when I see a few of the baseball players laughing by the window, my easiness fades. Reilly is standing among them, and my heart skips a beat.
If Reilly’s here, that means Nick’s here, too; they’re best friends. I didn’t stop to think about whomight actually be at the party. I haven’t talked to Nick since that day he found me crying in Mr. Silverman’s class. It was too awkward and embarrassing to talk to him again after that, after everything that happened as a result. I don’t want to feel that shame tonight. I knew being at the same high school would make it harder to avoid him, but I didn’t expect to see him at a freshman party—not tonight when I’m supposed to let loose and feel happy and light and free.
I let out a heavy breath and re-center myself in the room. This house is big, it’s filled with people, and it will be easy enough to avoid him. I’m content with that train of thought, until I step into the kitchen and see him over by the keg. I turn to leave the kitchen, or at least I plan to.
“Hey, Bethany,” The girl who sits next to me in my World History class stops beside me.
