04/03/2016

chapter twenty-eight ;

♡

to truly hate Michael Myers, and maybe my big heart, too.

This time, in the dream, toddlers popped into existence before me, oblivious that a psychotic murderer was on the loose. Eager to protect them, I would pick up these children, each of which seemed to weigh as much as me, and continue running for my life. Only dreams never seemed to allow you to actually run. I felt as though wading through knee-length sand, especially holding so many kids.

Naturally, I was thankful to wake up.

It was a gorgeous Sunday morning – or, rather, near noon. Downstairs my mother was preparing breakfast: pancakes and, her specialty, blueberry muffins. She greeted me with a bright smile.

"Good morning," Mom chirped. "I've got some news for you."

For some reason, Benny flashed in my mind, along with a sharp, nervous feeling. He should not have been the first thing I thought of. Mom could have meant anything.

"Yeah?" I breathed, leaning over the table.

Mom turned to the stove, but not before I saw her mouth curve into a smile. "How do you feel about going back to Tennessee?"

"Can we?" My eyes lit up. "For how long?"

Despite the fact that I could not see Mom's face, I noticed how her posture changed, tensed. Her smile had faded. "I didn't mean for a visit," she said, slowly. "I meant move back."

The words crashed into me like a bus, nearly knocking me out of balance. Confusion mingled with shock forced my stomach into the soles of my feet, and I had to sit down, contemplating but not wanting to ask, out of fear, if I'd heard her correctly.

"No," I finally said, when it was clear Mom wasn't going to say anything else. "No, I don't – We can't move, I mean – Why?"

Mom flipped a pancake, and turned to face me, though she remained at the stove. Although her smile was gone, her eyes were bright with excitement. "I'm pregnant."

The bus of her words crashed into me again, knocking the breath from my lungs. Mom was throwing blow after blow. It should not have affected me like this, and I wasn't sure it was the idea of having a baby brother or sister. Truthfully, I didn't want to leave my friends behind. I didn't want to leave Benny.

Deciding that I was not going to say anything, Mom continued, "I want to be with my mom for this."

"But . . . why? I mean, both of your kids were born in cooler places than Tennessee. I'm from Texas, Luke's from Indiana, so let this baby be from California!"

Mom laughed, shaking her head. "Truth is, I miss my family. We have no one but ourselves here. Your dad and I have been talking about it, and we've decided it's what we want. Aren't you excited to be a big sister, though?"

"Yeah, but . . . the air is so moist there!" I protested. Clearly all of my excuses were petty and practically meaningless, but I didn't want to admit that I wanted to stay at least for one person.

"Sorry, baby," Mom sighed, turning back to the pancakes. "It's basically set in stone. I know it sucks . . . You've built a life here, but you still have one back in Tennessee. You'll be back with all of your old friends. You always tell me how much you miss it there."

"That doesn't mean I want to move back."

But now that I thought about it, I really did miss Tennessee and all of my old friends. The idea was inviting. Part of me wanted to protest until the world ended; the other part wanted to accept this gladly.

Mom said nothing, and after a few moments, I grumbled, "Set in stone?"

"Yup."

"When?"

"Probably at the end of the school year, so things don't get messed up for you and Luke," Mom explained. "But we might go a little sooner. I'm thinking the end of the school year will work out best, though."

For a while I simply stared at the table. Ice spread through my veins, pricking at every inch of my skin. Leaving California, and all of the friends I had made. Leaving Bertram and Kenny and Liz and all of the younger boys. Leaving Ivy and Leah and Jordan, and maybe even Kit. But leaving behind Benny . . . that was a whole new pain.

What did it matter? The two of us weren't even on speaking terms. My unintentional speech about his feelings happened the previous morning, and I hadn't seen or heard of him since. He'd said it himself – he felt absolutely nothing for me. Even if it was on account of his lingering shock and refusal to feel the death of his mother, part of me feared that it was only an excuse to get rid of me.

Accidentally speaking my thoughts, I said, "Luke's gonna be so pissed." Then, realizing I'd just cursed in front of my mother, I gasped, jumped out of my seat, and backed away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Mouth opened with shock, Mom sent me a dirty look. "You better watch your damn mouth, little girl."

In spite of myself, I laughed. "Really, momma?"

She pointed a spatula at me. "You shut up. I'm the adult. I can say whatever I want."

♡

School ended in over a month – there was no sense in keeping the news from my friends until then. Truthfully, I just didn't feel like enduring their pleads and protests just yet.

So I asked myself, who would take the news the best? Kenny was one of the options, but I was closer to him than anyone else, aside from Bertram. Ivy would definitely have a lot to say. I could not bear to see Leah's saddened expression.

Half an hour after the news, I found myself crossing over my yard and into Benny's. I could only hope that he was still home. Surprisingly, moments after my first bout of knocking, the door swung open.

There stood Benny, wearing only light gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. He towered over me, all olive skin and dark hair and bright eyes. He looked like some sort of angel, too beautiful to be real. The sight of him sent shivers down my spine.

"What?"

There were bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept. I wanted to ask him where they had come from, but it had probably been a product of partying all night. That was the type of guy he had turned into.

Suddenly I felt extremely awkward. Probably if I told him I was moving, he would look at me like I was stupid. I could hear his voice in my head already: Okay? And why are you telling me this? I don't care.

The fear held me back. I looked like an even bigger idiot, standing at Benny's door, biting my lip, wordless. He simply stared at me expectantly. When he decided I was not going to speak, he sighed.

"Do you want to come in?"

I shook my head, trying to shake away the fear along with it. "No, this won't be long. I just wanted to let you know that . . . Well, I know you don't care and stuff, but I just thought you should know I'm moving back to Tennessee."

Benny remained utterly still, eyes darkening. He held my gaze evenly, as if still waiting for me to speak. Of course, I thought, the Benny in my thoughts was going to become a reality. It almost reminded me of the night I sang to him to express my feelings, and he simply stared at me. Then, of course, he had only been frozen with the shock of it all. Now . . . he simply did not care.

After one more awkward moment of silence, I took a slight step back, exhaling. "See, I know it doesn't matter to you anymore, but you were closer than anyone else, so – "

"You are joking." Benny's voice was hard, but it contained feeling. It had been so long since I'd heard it that way. . . . "Right?"

"Afraid not," I chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of my loose V-neck top. "Momma's pregnant, and she wants to be back with our family, so . . . I'll be gone soon." I won't bother you anymore.

It was as if he hadn't spoken at all. Benny stared at me, brows pulled into a slight frown – as if I were stupid. To relieve myself of my misery, I took another step backward.

"See you in school," I sighed. And I almost added, jokingly, Enjoy it while you can, but part of me expected that Benny would no longer appreciate jokes like those, not from me.

I turned around, prepared to leave – but then his hand closed around my wrist. Benny did not pull me back, but he held me in place. It was up to me to turn back to him, confusion decorating my features.

For once there was emotion behind his hazel eyes. Something like sadness. "Please tell me you're kidding," he whispered.

"I can't tell you that." I couldn't hold back the frown on my face; concern had been the last thing I expected of Benny. "Why does it matter? All I do is bother you anyway."

Benny sighed deeply, releasing my hand. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Can you just . . . come inside?"

For the millionth time in the past hour, I was shocked into momentary speechlessness. Soon, I felt, it would all become too much and I would pass out. Benny and I held each other's gaze for what felt like a minute, and then I simply walked inside, pushing past the boy.

Now I looked around his house with new eyes. Before, I'd spent nearly as much time here as I did in my own house. Every room held a thousand wonderful memories, and if I concentrated hard enough, I could see them play out before my eyes. But Benny closed the door behind me, and I felt his breath on my bare neck, and there was no way in hell I would be able to concentrate on anything but that.

A moment of tense stillness passed, and then Benny moved around and past me. Without looking back at me, he made his way upstairs, and I followed quietly behind.

Upon entering his bedroom, my mouth dropped to the floor. Everything – all of Benny's baseball cards and bobble-heads and trophies and banners – was on the floor. He hardly seemed to notice my reaction; he hardly seemed to notice the ruins at all.

"Benny, what did you do?" I breathed. The destruction stabbed at me, as if he'd ruined all of my personal things.

Benny waved a dismissive hand and sat down on the bed, head hanging all the while. He stared at his hands, saying nothing, while I gaped at him, still standing at the door.

"Tell me what happened," I insisted, shock saturating my voice. "Did you get drunk or something? Did someone else do this?"

He did not frown as I suspected he would. Benny looked up, met my eyes, and said, "I've grown out of all this stuff. It's not who I am anymore."

Nothing had surprised me as much as this. As odd as the reaction was, I felt my eyes burning with tears. "Baseball? You don't like baseball anymore?"

Benny's bottom lip trembled, and he quickly looked back down at his hands. Everything was so confusing, Benny had become someone I hardly knew, but I acted anyway. Almost fully expecting him to push me away, I sat down beside Benny and pulled him into me.

At first he was frozen, but he did not protest. Then, after a moment's hesitation, he turned and slid his arms around my waist, burying his head in my chest. His shoulders shook, and I realized, horrified, that he had begun to cry.

It was a rare sight, seeing Benny cry. The first and last time I had witnessed him cry, it had been on the floor of his mother's bedroom, just after he'd found her dead.

The amazement nearly surpassed the sensation of being wrapped in Benny's arms again. He was every bit as soft and warm as he had always been. Part of me wanted to cry with him. Instead I held him close, threading my fingers through his thick, soft hair.

A small portion of me felt bad for demanding that he feel his pain. But I knew that this was much healthier than holding it all in. Perhaps he would even go back to normal – or, at least, as normal as he could be, living with the fact that his life would never be the same, not without his parents. At least he would always have Elizabeth.

Admittedly, there was a part of me, however selfish, that wondered whether he would come back to me. In spite of everything, I knew I would always take him back. But I had trained myself through the years not to let my hopes run too high: doing so usually resulted in disappointment.

I wanted to say something comforting, but nothing that came to mind would suffice. I feared that anything I said would embarrass him, or I would sound stupid. So I simply held him.

"Please don't go." Benny's voice cracked several times, even in three words; he sounded like a child, broken and lost, and perhaps that was what he was. We were still kids.

"I don't want to," I whispered, pushing my shaking hand through his hair. "But I don't think I have much of a choice."

"I just lost my mom," he sighed, sounding tired. His arms tightened around me, and when he spoke next, he seemed hardly able to choke the words out. "I can't lose you too."

The breath lodged in my throat – not purely out of shock, but in confusion as well. Was he crying because I was leaving? After a moment, I assured him, voice soft:

"You'll never lose me."

Benny pulled away from me then, and my arms fell awkwardly to my sides. He turned his head away from me, but I still saw his flushed cheeks, stained with the tears he quickly wiped away. He was frowning deeply, shaking his head.

"I fucked everything up, didn't I?" His voice was rough, but not resentful toward me. "I made you so many promises, and I. . . . Kayla . . ." He looked at me with his bloodshot eyes, brightened to primarily green. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. There's no excuse for the way I've treated you these past four months, none. You didn't deserve any of that."

Swallowing, I shook my head at him. "It's hard to blame you, Benny. I forgive you. Don't worry about that."

Benny raised a trembling hand to touch my cheek. While running his thumb across my skin, he whispered, "Please don't go. I don't think I can do it without you."

His touch sent a shock through me, and I leaned into it, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment. I wanted to place my hand over his, but I was shaking too.

"We have another month," I said, softly. "Momma said we'll probably go at the end of the school year."

Benny took a deep breath, closed his eyes, slid his hand behind my neck. "I've never felt so powerless in my life."

Without much thought, I reached forward and took Benny's free hand. He allowed me, now without an ounce of hesitance. It was wonderful to finally be able to touch him. A piece of my fractured soul was returned, even if we stood on uncertain grounds. For the moment, at least, it felt like Benny was mine again, and that was all that mattered. I could only hope that, if the moment of rejection came, I could brace myself against it.

"And it's my fault," Benny continued, gripping my hand tightly.

"Don't be stupid," I breathed.

"This is, like, my karma," he continued, letting his hand fall away from my neck. He rested it atop the hand I held his with, so my hand was wrapped in both of his. "I'm so sorry, Kayla, I didn't think it through. I – "

"Benny." My tone was sharp, but not unkind. Again he met my eyes. I leaned closer to him, to show that I was serious. My free hand stopped shaking when it rested against his cheek. Like me, he leaned into my touch, only his eyes closed and did not open. "Stop saying stupid stuff. No one blames you. Yeah, maybe you were a little dumb, but that's not you – I know you. You're perfect."

Benny's eyes fluttered open. He moved so quickly, so suddenly, I had no time to process it. All I knew was that, in less than a second, his lips were crushed against mine.

Later I would mark this day as the day I received shock after shock, and somehow survived it all. Frozen with the fresh shock, I could only stare, wide-eyed, observing Benny's dark eyelashes. My entire body had tensed, and before I had the chance to slacken, he pulled away.

Benny met my eyes for two seconds, and then he looked away. Already his cheeks were turning red. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I thought . . . maybe you wouldn't mind . . . I should've asked."

Swallowing the lump in the back of my throat, I moved into Benny's lap swiftly to straddle him. His hand fell from mine, and he stared up at me in surprise. Lips curving upward gently, I pulled him into my arms, and shivered at the feeling of his arm around me. He held me like a vice, unwilling to let go. With his free hand, he tugged at my hair. At first, I had no clue what he was doing – but then my curls spilled from the ponytail, and Benny buried his face in them.

"I feel it," he whispered.

"Feel what?"

"Everything." His voice overflowed with emotion, especially when he said, "I love you. I've always loved you. It's so strong, I don't know how I ever could have been numb to it."

Trying to keep my cool demeanor, I simply smiled. "I've always loved you. Always."

"So have I." Benny pulled away then, cupping my cheeks and directing my gaze to meet his. Benny's eyes were wide and open; I felt as though I could see directly into his heart. "I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then."

My mouth fell slightly, then rose into a radiant grin. "Did you just quote The Mortal Instruments? How?"

Benny's perfect lips rose into a gentle smile, one full of warmth. "I was Googling quotes from it, to see if it seemed interesting. When I let myself think of you, I remembered those books and how you love them. That one stuck out to me, even when I thought I didn't love you anymore. I . . . didn't mean to memorize it."

A laugh, pure and pulled directly from my heart, rushed from my throat. "I'm glad you did. Makes me love you even more."

Still smiling – an angelic, breath-taking image – Benny said, "I'm hurt that there was room for your love to grow."

Again I laughed. "Shut up."

And I buried my head into the crook of his neck, savoring the feel of his warm cheek on mine. The smell of him: laundry detergent and some men's soap that smelled of cologne. The beating of his heart against my own chest. I could be happy.

♡

i'm content with this. i'm sure you guys are, too. and hey, this story reached 1k votes yesterday! thanks, my darlings!

crush time, and i'll try to keep these short. the crush who rides my bus got me to sit with him yesterday, and he put his arms around me when i did. basically, he held my hand and hugged me and all that.

and i tell you guys this stuff bc i honestly don't have any friends i'm super close to anymore. I've had three real best friends in my life. one's dead. one doesn't live near me anymore. one's going wild, and i'd rather be writing this than be caught up in stupid shit. so i tell you guys! thanks for reading them. (:

October 10, 2017