Burn Before Reading(15)

Yeah, maybe I built up our meeting a little too much in my mind. Maybe I’d been too nervous for too long, watching her from afar. Maybe I’d read the essay too much, instead of trying to talk to her like a normal human being. Maybe I was just being downright creepy about the whole thing. I liked her writing, and that was it. I shouldn’t have wanted anything more than that. It was greedy of me. And it was stupid of me - the last time I tried to get to know someone they betrayed me. Mark took my trust and ripped it into tiny shreds. Just because she wrote an essay I liked didn’t mean she was any different. I knew from her words that she and I were similar – two people who tried their hardest to save someone. Trying. She’s still trying, but my efforts are in the past.

That’s why she doesn’t belong at Lakecrest.

Her essay said nothing about her wanting to be here for her own sake. It was all for her Dad’s. And while that’s noble, and self-sacrificing, and a million other things, it’s also very, very stupid. Incredibly stupid. Maybe it’s because I would’ve given anything to make Mark ‘better’ again, but I can’t stand seeing her waste what’s left of her teenage years trying desperately to heal someone she can’t. He needs professional help. It’s a shrink’s job, not hers, to help with his illness. Putting all of that pressure on one person who isn’t trained for it - who doesn’t have years of study and practice under their belt – is wrong. Putting all that pressure on one girl is wrong. And the worst part is? She’s doing it to herself, stubbornly.

She has to be expelled. It has to be done. She has to leave Lakecrest before it damages her psyche, her soul, and her dreams, permanently. And if I have to be the bad guy, then so be it.

I don’t know her. Not really. But her writing sang to me. Someone who wrote like that had to be equally as graceful, as wise, as kind. Words don’t come from nowhere – they come from a mind, and I wanted to know hers.

I’d never know. But at the very least I could preserve it. Protect it. Protect her.

All I have left is the essay, and I read it over and over until the sun sets and I fall asleep with her words dancing behind my eyelids.





Chapter 5


BEATRIX


This is going to come as a shocker to you, pen-and-paper, but I've never been to a truly fancy restaurant in my life.

The closest I'd ever come was the Cheesecake Factory in Seattle on a weekend sometimes. Going out and eating wasn't exactly Dad's thing - he always felt like he was ruining it for the rest of us, and got downtrodden pretty quick - so we stopped going. I'd definitely forgotten which one is the salad fork or how to sit in a chair for more than ten minutes without squirming into a more comfortable slouch, and I definitely, DEFINITELY didn't have anything to wear. Not that I usually cared about impressing people, it's just that Mr. Blackthorn held the future of my scholarship in his hands. I had to at least try and look smarter and older than I really was.

Dresses aren't my style. I like sweaters and jeans and converse and that's it. Frankly, everything else in the fashion world can take a flying leap off a waterfall. With piranhas in the bottom. Mom did try to get me a sundress once with blue flowers on it. I barely fit it anymore. But it was all I had, and I was desperate to look like more than a sixteen-year-old girl belonging to a hovering-just-above-poverty American family. I squeezed into the dress and threw a sweater over it, convinced I looked like the world's dopiest kindergarten teacher.

Mom wasn't home, thankfully. It was Dad and only Dad. Mom would've definitely noticed something was up when I walked into the living room wearing the sundress I hate. But Dad was oblivious, glued to the television as he had been since I'd gotten home. It was one of those days for him.

"Hey Dad." I kissed the side of his cheek, his beard scratchy. He'd told me once he hated beards, but shaving had sort of fallen on the wayside for him. "I'm going to the store to get some things for Mom. Do you need anything?"

"What?" Dad tore his glossy eyes from the TV. "No, no I'll be fine."

"Okay. I have my phone with me. Call me if you think of anything."

He grunted, and I tiptoed to the front door and closed it behind me. Only when I was inside the car did I let out a breath of relief. That could've gone way, way worse. I caught myself, for a split-second, being thankful for the fact he had no energy to stop me, or even pay attention to me long enough to realize what was really going on. But that was disgusting of me, and I knew it, so I shook it out of me like a bad bug. Of course I wasn't thankful. I wish he'd stopped me. I wish he'd notice even the smallest thing about me, these days.

I rehearsed a speech for Mr. Blackthorn the whole time I drove to Ciao Bella. I couldn't look too desperate, because even a low-class scholarshipper like me had pride, but I couldn't let any bone he threw me go to waste. I'd have to accept, no matter what he wanted me to do. At that point, I would've done anything short of deal drugs to keep my scholarship. As I mulled over the list of potentially illegal things I would and would not agree to, a knock on my window startled me. A young man in dress whites smiled at me as I rolled down the window.

"Hello, miss. Shall I valet park for you this evening?"

I looked over his head only to see the sign of Ciao Bella glaring back at me. I'd been so deep in my own brain I hadn't even noticed I'd made it. I hastily cleared my throat.