Chapter 17
BEATRIX
Being relieved and sad at the same time is a weird feeling. It hollows out your guts, make you feel like a wooden puppet of a person. Finding Dad was the best thing, but hearing that he’s leaving was the worst.
And hearing Wolf say those things about me –
At the time, I could barely wrap my head around it. I was so relieved I found Dad, so relived he was safe and okay, that I sort of blocked everything else out. But I did hear it. And with each hour that passed I started realizing just how loudly Wolf’s words clung to every corner of my mind.
The first thing I did when Dad and I got home was talk. I called Mom, and she came home, and we all sat in the living room and Dad told us his plan to live with his sister until he could get enough help to be stable again. He apologized, and Mom apologized, and then I apologized for not being a better daughter, and I cried, and then Dad and Mom hugged me, together. For a split-second we felt like a family again.
Mom took it well. She never said it, but I’m pretty sure if Dad hadn’t announced he was leaving, she would’ve. When our talk was over, Mom and Dad hugged – a strange, stiff thing. Even if they don’t get stay together after this, after Dad comes back, they’ll still be friends. Or at least I hope so.
I used to think divorce was the worst thing that could happen to my family. But after Dad went missing, I learned it wasn’t even close. Death was worse. It’d always be worse.
My birthday party was something Dad proposed, when I first found him on the bluff. He said he wanted to throw one for me before he left, to make a memory with me.
So here I am now, making guacamole and getting nervous.
“When do your friends get here, Bee?” Mom asks as she stirs salsa.
“Um, in an hour?” I check my phone. “Oh shit, is it really that late?”
“You should go upstairs and get changed,” Mom says, eyeing my guac-stained t-shirt. “I’ll handle the rest of the food stuff.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” She kisses the top of my head, and shoos me out of the kitchen. I pass the living room, Dad stringing a line of gold paper stars along the ceiling.
“Hey there,” He smiles down at me from the ladder. “You just about ready?”
“Yeah. I’m…actually a little nervous.”
“It’s certainly been a while since you had a party like this,” He agrees. I’m quiet, watching him string the stars.
“I’ll miss you,” I say. He steps down from the ladder and smiles, hugging me close.
“I’ll miss you too, kiddo.”
“I’ll call every day.”
“I know you will.”
We part, and he smooths the hair from my forehead.
“So, who’s coming to this party? Anyone I know?”
“Just…some people from school.”
“What about Wolf? Did you invite him?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“That’s great. I still have to thank him.”
“For what?”
“He helped you find me,” He says. “And he and I talked about a few things. He seems like a good kid.”
Unsure what to say to that, I hug him again and head upstairs to change. I nervously rummage through my closet – jeans? No. That doesn’t feel special enough. There’s that old sundress, but the thought of Fitz insulting it makes me smile.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Burn.
What do you want? He asks.
Want?
For your birthday.
I want you to be here, that’s all.
I’m getting you something. This is your last chance to make sure it’s not a gift card.
I laugh. I like chocolate.
Alright.
He’s always so blunt and to the point. But that’s his charm. That’s who Burn is. I wouldn’t change him for the world. He texts me again.
Wolf is nervous.
Oh. I respond. I don’t have the courage to tell him I’m nervous too.
I’ll make sure he comes.
Relief spreads through me. Thanks. I appreciate it.
I reach out for the pale blue dress, the one Seamus made. I still don’t fully believe what I heard Wolf say on the bluff about my essay, about….me. How he feels about me. I thought up until that moment he hated me down to my bones. He never liked me, even before I betrayed him. He was using me to get over his fear, and that was because I offered to help. His soft touches, his embraces – all of it was in his best self-interest, not because he held any affection for me. Or so I thought.
I want to protect her.
I shake his voice out of my head, the warmth it spreads through me reaching to my toes. I pull my clothes off, suddenly aware of how flushed my skin is.
I’ll do everything I can for her. And maybe, maybe there’ll be a day where she finds someone else that makes her happy. But until then – until then I’ll be here.
He can’t like me. He can’t have feelings for me. He’s Wolfgang Blackthorn, distrustful of everyone and the king of being unforgiving. But the way we touched, the things we talked about, his smile, so handsome and rare, and the things he said on the bluff –
I always thought he tried to get me expelled because he hated me. But it was the opposite. Wolf only knows how to do one thing – and that’s push people away. Especially people he cares about. He’s tried to push me away, since day one. Since the day we met. I had no idea my essay had that much of an effect him. I had no idea he liked my writing so much, enough to cherish it.
Enough to cherish me.
It suddenly makes sense – each time he tore himself away when we were touching. The excuses he’d make for getting away from me. The hard, cold exterior he’d put on, like a mask, to hide his real feelings.
That’s what he meant when he said he was afraid of me.
And I’d been too dense to understand. Too angry. Too convinced he hated me.
“Bee! Your friends are here!”
Panic grips me, and I quickly pull the dress on, zipping it up with difficulty. My hair – I run a brush through it and check my face in the mirror. I look awful. I look confused and exhausted and stressed. I try a smile, but it looks so fake. It’s the best I got right now. Whether or not I’m ready, they’re here.
I walk downstairs, hearing the low hum of voices as Mom greets Burn and Fitz in the hallway. Burn and Fitz and a girl voice – Keri. I didn’t think she’d show up, but she did.
“Hey guys,” I walk downstairs. Fitz immediately starts whistling and clapping, and Keri claps with him. Burn nods at me, his way of approving.
“You look wonderful, sweetie!” Mom crows. “Where did you get that dress? I’ve never seen it on you.”
“A…friend.” I cough.
“Is that what we’re calling him now?” Fitz quirks a brow. “Upgraded from enemies, have we?”
Keri nudges him in the ribs, and he rolls his eyes.
“Fine. I’ll be nice. But just this once.”
I laugh and run up, hugging him. He hugs me back. It’s so nice to see him, to see that he can look at me again.
“I found your little puzzle in your computer,” He says when we part. I smirk.
“It was pretty easy for you, I bet.”
“Too easy. You practically insulted me with it.”
“I’ll make a harder one next time. If you let me have a next time.”
It’s my way of apologizing. It’s an apology wrapped in insecurity, wrapped in a thick blanket of wanting his friendship again. He pauses, green eyes soft and freckles wrinkling with his smile.
“I think I’ll allow it. Just this once.”
I hug him again, joy rushing through my veins.
“Thank you.”
“But,” He holds a finger in my face. “If you fuck up again, it’s off with your head.”
“That’s very French of you. We studied the British, remember?”
“Oh they’re the same thing.” He waves his hand dismissively. “They all intermarry, anyway.”
Burn holds out a paper-wrapped box.
“For you.”
“Thank you,” I smile at him. His eyes are tender, gentle. The fact that he’s here at all means he’s forgiven me. Something about him is changed, but I can’t put my finger on it. He looks…calmer. More at peace. Before it was always like he was closing himself off, but now he’s a little more open, like a door letting in light.
“I brought something too!” Keri chimes in. She passes me a pink-wrapped box. “It’s nothing fancy, but I thought you’d might like it. For nostalgia’s sake.”
“Aw, thanks Keri. You really didn’t have to.”
“Consider it a thanks,” She smiles. “For being the only person in school who’ll talk to me about Neverwinter Knights without rolling their eyes constantly.”
Mom takes the presents and puts them in the kitchen. She offers everyone drinks, and the TV remote. She takes the cake out of the fridge. It’s sort of awkward, having your parents there for your birthday, trying to orchestrate things, but Dad sees how uncomfortable I am and pulls Mom aside. They announce they’re going out for a bit, and as Dad leaves he winks at me, a subtle ‘it’s all yours’.
We talk over drinks for hours, lying on the couches and floor. Keri and Burn find my old Clue board game and start playing while Fitz rummages through the kitchen cabinet.
“You know it’s actually considered rude,” Keri calls to him. “To go through other people’s things without permission. Especially their liquor.”
“I’m looking for the matches,” He drawls. “For the cake.”
“Sure you are.”
“Burn, tell her I’m recently sober and completely reformed.”
“He’s recently sober and completely reformed.” Burn deadpans.
“See?” Fitz points a butter knife at her. “From the mouth of babes.”
“You? Sober? That’s the best joke you’ve come up with so far in your life,” I smirk. Fitz’s face falls, a straight line to his mouth.
“I’m serious. I haven’t touched anything since that night you – you almost –”
“Drowned,” Burn finishes for him. Fitz flinches.
“Yeah. That.”
The pain in his normally cherubic face is obvious. I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m alright, you know?”
“Yeah, but because of me –”
“Fitz, who’s the shrink in this relationship?” I ask. He rolls his eyes.
“You.”
“Yes. Me. And I’d rather eat a pile of nails than watch you carry around any guilt because of what happened that night. It does things to you. And I don’t want that to ruin the little ball of perfect sunshine that you are.”
He looks up, grinning at my sarcasm.
“Alright. I can pretend to not feel things. I’m good at that.”
A knock at the door makes my stomach fall. It’s Wolf. I get up slowly, and brace myself before I pull the door open. Kristin stands there, blonde hair in a bun and her smile somehow apologetic.
“Hey, Bee.”
“Hi. I didn’t know if you’d show up –”
“I –” She frowns. “Just for a minute. I wanted to say something. To all of you. And then I’ll go.”
I wave her in, and she walks into the living room. Fitz points at her accusingly.
“You!”
“Me,” She mutters. Burn’s face goes flat, his eyes suddenly narrowing.
“What is she doing here, Bee?” Fitz asks. “She’s the one who texted us that Dad had kidnapped you – so we ran to Ciao Bella like she said –”
“You’re working with him,” Burn says to her. Mr. Blackthorn did say she grew to like him, didn’t he? And that’s what outed her as his spy to them.
“I’m not,” She says. “Not anymore. I just wanted to – apologize. For everything. You’ve blocked me everywhere else, so. This was the last place I could think of.”
“That’s why you accepted my party invite?” I frown. She nods, unable to meet my gaze. She can meet Burn’s just fine.
“I’m sorry,” She says with a wavering voice.
“You’ve said sorry.” Burn says. “You did what you came to do. Now leave.”
Kristin breathes in deep, then out. “Right. Okay.”
I follow her back to the door, and she turns with a watery smile.
“I’m really sorry for using your birthday party like this, Bee.”
“It’s okay. I know what it’s like, to want to apologize so badly you’d do anything. You’re welcome to stay.”
“No,” She shakes her head. “I’ve pushed my luck already. I have to be honest – I’m a little jealous.”
“Of what?”
“How much Burn likes you,” She laughs.
“He doesn’t, like like me –”
“No, I know. Just as a friend, he likes you a lot. I can tell. Take care of him, okay?”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
She walks down my steps, then turns, calling back up at me.
“We sort of learned our lesson together, huh?”
“To not trust image-obsessed pricks like Mr. Blackthorn?” I ask.
“To not go so hard after the things we want, if it hurts other people,” She corrects. I’m quiet, the gravity of her words pressing down on me.
“Yeah. Definitely learned that.”
She waves, and walks to her Prius. Just as she gets in, the roar of a motorcycle turns my insides upside down. Wolf pulls up to the curb, taking his helmet off. In the dim light of dusk, I can’t see his expression when he sees me. He carries something under the arm of his leather jacket.
I still my breathing, trying to calm myself down. But my heart won’t stop freaking out. He’s even handsomer than yesterday, somehow. And his words – I can’t shake his words from my brain. Everything piles on top of itself to reduce me to a trembling mess.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” His jaw is tight, his fists against his sides. He’s nervous. Maybe even more nervous than I am. He offers the package under his arm, wrapped in silver paper. “Happy birthday.”
“Oh man, you didn’t have to –”
“I wanted to,” He asserts.
“Well, uh, thanks. It means a lot.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” He laughs softly.
“Well it’s probably not socks, so I think a thanks is in order.”
“Fair enough.”
There’s a stiff silence between us, and then Fitz comes barreling behind me.
“There you are!” He pulls Wolf inside, Wolf’s body narrowly missing brushing against mine. “Burn says I’m cheating and you have to come and beat him.”
“At what?” Wolf looks bewildered.
“Clue, duh. You’re the best at all those nerd-ass board games.”
Wolf rolls his eyes, but follows Fitz anyway, and I laugh and follow the both of them. Wolf gets wrapped up in the Clue game immediately, Fitz and Wolf tied to win by a long shot until Keri pulls the rug out from under him. Burn gets taken out, and he stands up and sits with me on the barstool.
“Is there any food?” He asks. I lead him to the kitchen, where it’s a little quieter. I pull out the chips, the roasted pigs-in-a-blanket, and all the dips Mom and I made. He picks at them.
“We’re moving,” Burn says around a mouthful.
“What?”
“I turn eighteen in three weeks. And when that happens, I’m filing for legal guardianship of Fitz and Wolf.”
“Seriously?”
“Dad’s looking to put Fitz in a rehab center,” He says. “And Wolf in a ‘reorientation’ facility.”
I feel sick all of a sudden. “Oh god, I should’ve told you – but I didn’t think –”
“He talked to you about it?”
“He mentioned it, but I didn’t think he’d really do it. Not to his own kids.”
“He’s trying. And he’s very serious about it.”
“Where are you guys gonna live? Do you have a place to go? You could stay here –”
“I’m not going to put anyone out like that,” He insists. “Jakob offered us a place to stay in exchange for helping him around the business.”
“The skydiving guy?”
He nods. The panic in my throat loosens.
“That’s good. That’s good, right? You guys will be okay, right? What about Lakecrest? Your dad practically owns the place –”
“They’ll be enrolling in public school nearby.”
“They? What about you? You don’t finish until next year.”
Burn stares into the guacamole. “I’m applying to jobs.”
“Burn, you can’t seriously drop out –”
“Someone has to,” Burn says. “And it should be me.”
“But – but there has to be another way –”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, a faint smile lifting his serious face.
“It’s what I have to do. To make up for some things.”
“Burn –”
“I can always go back to school,” He insists. “I’ll get a GED later. But right now, I need to secure a safe place for my brothers. I owe them that much.”
His bravery, his sacrifice. All of it looks so familiar. I tried to do a lot of things on my own, too.
“I won’t let you do this alone,” I steady my lip. “You have to let me help. If you guys need food, or clothes, or – god, did he let you keep anything of your own?”
“We brought only what we could carry,” He shakes his head. “Except Fitz has his computers, which is good. He tried to sell them, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“He’s acting like I can’t hack with a dinky old laptop,” Fitz’s voice resounds, and we turn to see him leaning against the doorway. “They pay good money to good hackers, you know. I’m looking into some leads.”
Burn makes a displeased grunt, and Fitz waves his hand.
“Don’t worry, it’s white-hat work. No police busting down our shabby little door, I promise.” He looks out the door to the living room, where Keri and Wolf still are. “Wolf’s trying to get a part-time job at a car garage, too. He’ll be good at it, if they just give him a chance.”
I’m quiet. Fitz pats me on the back.
“Don’t look so worried, Bee. We’ll be fine.”
“What if – what if your Dad won’t let Burn become your guardian?”
“It will be tough,” Burn says. “Getting the courts to agree with my side. But if I drop out and get a steady job once I turn eighteen, and with all the evidence of trying to get Wolf into one of those terrible ‘reorientation’ places, I’m hoping the courts will choose correctly.”
“And if they don’t?”
“They will,” Fitz says, his wink making the words no less ominous.
I watch Wolf from the doorway, his expression in deep concentration on the board game.
“I can’t let him get hurt,” I murmur. A hand ruffles my hair – Burn’s.
“I know. Me either.”
“Maybe stop worrying for half a second of your life,” Fitz drawls. “And try to have fun on your own damn birthday.” He’s been rummaging again, but this time he brings up a box of candles from a drawer. He empties it, one lone candle falling out. “This is seriously all you have? One candle?”
“It’ll be fine,” I assure him. “It’s just candles.”
“Oh no, absolutely not,” Fitz straightens, pulling Burn by the hand out of the kitchen. “We’re going to get you a full-ass set of candles if it’s the last thing I do on God’s green earth.”
“But –”
“We’ll be back soon,” Burn assures me. “Promise.”
“Keri!” Fitz screeches. “C’mon! We’re getting candles.”
“Candles?” She looks at me, confused. Her eyes slide over to an equally confused Wolf. “Uh, sure. Candles.”
And just like that they’re gone. Just like that, it’s me and Wolf and only me and Wolf in the house. My heart starts beating like crazy as I sit on the couch.
“Well that was a quick exit,” I say.
“I wanted to apologize,” Wolf murmurs. He’s staring at the Clue board like it’s the only thing that’s real in the world. “For what I said the other day.”
“Apologize?”
“You were under a lot of stress,” He continues. “And me adding to that…didn’t help.”
“Well, yeah. It kind of came out of nowhere.”
“Yeah.” He nods, his inhale sharp. “Well, you can go ahead, then.”
“And do what?”
“Tell me to fuck off?” He suggests. “Tell me I’m creepy? Something? Anything?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because what I said was….weird. And creepy. I wasn’t planning on telling you how I feel. Ever.”
I look at him, his fingers turning his wolf ring quickly.
“Why?”
His eyes get sharp, jade green boring into me. “You ask why too much.”
I laugh. “Sorry. Shrink habit.”
He’s quiet, and then;
“I wasn’t planning on telling you…because you deserve someone better. Someone who doesn’t try to expel you. Someone who can touch you without shaking. Someone who doesn’t make you cry like you did that night at Ciao Bella.”
His fists clench on the Clue board.
“I left you there. Alone. I didn’t look back once. I didn’t once think about the shit I did to force you into trusting my Dad. The whole reason you were in with him was because of me. And you got hurt by it. Because of me.”
Wolf looks up, hair shading his broken expression.
“So just tell me. Tell me to fuck off, once and for all. And I will.”
I’m struck silent, the burning force of his gaze charring my thoughts to ash. I can’t think. I can barely move. I keep trying to say it, to make my mouth form the words, but they refuse to come out. Wolf’s face falls, slowly, then all at once, like a cliff crumbling into the sea.
“Right,” He stands up, pulling his jacket back on. “I get the picture.” He walks over, grabs his present, and places it on the couch by me with a bittersweet smile. “Happy birthday, Bee.”
The clunk as the front door shuts behind him echoes hollowly in my chest. Like a rusted robot, I pull off the wrapping paper, and open the box.
It’s a book. A hardcover, gilded-edged book of illustrated fantasy creatures. Wizards, witches, dragons and gryphons and priestesses and mermaids in glorious, delicate detail; wild and free. Everything I used to love - everything I still love. Everything I want to write.
Everything I want to be.
Wolf.
He’s always known. He’s always tried to tell me to make myself happy, instead of others. To be selfish.
Maybe it’s time I try it.
I stand up, tearing the door open and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s almost to his bike. I fling my arms around his waist and hold tight.
“I like you,” I push the words out of me, finally. “I like you a lot.”
I feel all his muscles freeze beneath me.
“You’re just saying that,” He says. “To be nice.”
“No!” I shake my head against his spine. He smells like oil and leather and the wilderness – he smells like a Wolf. “It’s not like that.”
“I’m mean,” He insists.
“You can say that, but you do the red-cards. You try so hard to look out for everyone. Even me. The stuff I said at Ciao Bella wasn’t a lie – I’ve had the most fun maybe ever in my life, hanging out with you.”
“And my brothers.”
“No, just…you. Just touching your hand, or your hair, or any part of you. Just arguing with you. All of it. All of it was fun. I had – I had so much fun.”
“You cried,” His voice is soft. “I made you cry.”
“Newsflash,” I feel tears start to well up, out of gratitude this time. Out of happiness. “I only let people who are important to me make me cry.”
“That isn’t a good thing, Bee.” He turns in my arms to face me, his gaze like silk and fire.
“Crying can be a good thing!” I insist, rubbing my eyes with my fists. “Like – like right now. I’m crying because I –”
I lift my chin, and smile.
“Because I’m happy. That you like me. Because I like you too.”
His face, so apprehensive before, melts into a smile. It’s slow, like the last snow in spring, but it’s just as gentle and glowing. He pulls me against him, our hips close.
“This time I’m the one who gets to ask if it’s alright to touch you,” He says, voice rumbling in my chest.
I can’t help my laugh. It bubbles up from me fast and true and bright. I lean up, his mouth tantalizingly close, our fingers and breaths intertwining.
“It’s more than alright.”
EPILOGUE
Dear Sarah Lawrence,
You asked me to write about where I see myself in five years, so here I am. Writing. It’s not something I’m good at, but I want to get good at it, and I think that should count for something. Wanting to get good, the drive and focus it fosters, is something a lot more people should treasure. Some people just don’t care. Some people are fine with living as they are, without pushing their limits or boundaries in ways that will make them grow.
And I get it.
Growing is painful. I spent a whole year watching three brothers grow. Their father abused them, emotionally, but they broke out of it. I don’t know where I’ll see myself in five years, but I know where I’d like to see me – with them.
But I guess I should start from the beginning.
A year ago, I was studying my ass off to become a shrink, and go to NYU for it. It was for my dad – he has pretty bad depression, and when he was diagnosed I wanted to do everything in my power to help. And all I could think of was learn to treat him like I couldn’t. Like we didn’t have the money to. But the three brothers showed me that no matter how painful it is, no matter how selfish it may seem, you have to pursue your own dreams as hard as you can. They taught me that it’s noble to want to help, but you can’t help anyone if you don’t help yourself first. So I thought I’d write my essay about them, instead of whatever boring thing you wanted me to do.
There’s Fitz, the flippant and sarcastic golden baby of the three. He used to do a lot of drugs to take the edge off of losing his mother, but he went sober a year ago. Because of me. Because I passed out at a party from a tranquilizer he gave me. I landed in a pool and nearly drowned. He hasn’t touched a single substance since then. I know it started out as his way of punishing himself, but he told me yesterday he’s glad he did it. He’s glad I almost drowned. And as weird as it is to say something like that, that’s just how Fitz is. He says it with a smile all the time; “I’m glad you almost drowned”. And I know what he really means. He’s thanking me, in the only way he knows how.
And then there’s Burn, who doesn’t need to say anything at all. I used to be scared of him, since he’s extremely tall and never smiles. But that was just me judging a book by it’s very intimidating cover. He didn’t used to show much emotion at all. That was his way of dealing with his mother’s death; the less words he had to say, the less he had to interact with people. The less he had to explain his feelings to people – feelings he didn’t understand himself all that well. We ask how people are feeling all the time, but I never thought about what a flimsy and useless platitude it is. If we’re asked that, we never answer truthfully. Burn taught me that sometimes asking how someone is is the worst thing you can do. He taught me the truth is sometimes more important than being polite.
Finally, there’s Wolf. Wolf taught my heart how to beat. Not just survival-beat, slow and easy, but thunderously, like a storm rumbling your windows in the sills. He was slow, coming into my life with the speed of a far-off cloud, but he held the same pressure. You know, the pressure just before a storm, suffocating and everywhere. Not in a bad way. In a rain-after-a-drought way. I couldn’t hate the pressure when I knew it was here to water my crops and save my life.
Maybe not my life. Maybe just my heart.
He taught me it’s alright to burn. He taught me that fire doesn’t only destroy – it reveals the new, tiny sprouts lying in wait to grow; sprouts you would’ve ignored, sprouts that would’ve died otherwise.
Wolf’s sitting right beside me as I write this. He’s telling me to tell you guys to burn this essay before you read it, before you fall in love with me, too. That’s how he met me – through my writing. He tried to get me expelled. It’s a long story. One I might write about someday. And if you accept me into your college, I might write about it a little better than I would if I’d gone elsewhere. I’ve got dozens of stories in me. Hundreds. And you’re welcome to help me get them out into the world. You’re welcome to be a part of my journey.
My name is Beatrix Cruz, and no matter what anyone says, no matter if you accept me or not, I’m going to be a writer. No matter how many times hardship overshadows me, I’m going to write all the stories inside of me. Because it’s selfish. Because I’m me, and I’ve learned to be selfish. Because there are always sprouts waiting just below the surface of the ashes.
So go ahead. Reject me. Accept me.
Whatever you do, burn this before reading.