Chapter Fifty-Two: "So I've Been Thinking. . ."
"DO YOU REMEMBER THAT one girl, the other Brooklyn?"
"Which one?"
"Brooklyn Hall."
"Oh, right, her. Um, yeah. She's that shy lesbian girl who was in our math class, right?"
"Yeah!" Lacey exclaims. It's Sunday, and we're sat on her bed watching Netflix and talking about anything and everything like I haven't moved at all. It's about eleven o'clock at night, and Lacey refuses to go to bed. We didn't do much yesterday since I slept most of the day, but now I'm feeling a little better, just exhausted. "So anyway, you'll never believe what happened!"
"What happened?"
"Guess."
"Um. . . she's dating one of the volleyball players?"
"Nope!"
"She. . . got her ass kicked?"
"No."
"Then I give up." I laugh, shoving more popcorn in my mouth and laughing at something Sheldon Cooper said to Penny.
"She actually went back into the closet!" She yells in a whisper.
I stop mid-bite, and my eyes widen. How can a girl be gay then turn back into a straight person in just three months? "What?" I sputter.
"She actually isn't a lesbian." Lacey says. "She announced to the entire school at the first school assembly that it was all a sham! She's as straight as a 180° angle! Like, she said that her parents are super religious and shit and then they got into this huge argument about sexuality, so she dated women to get on their nerves! Can you believe that?"
"No. Way. Seriously?" I ask in complete shock. Brooklyn had been a lesbian for nearly three years! How can she go all those years being with women and not feel nauseated by it?
No, no, no, scratch that!
How could she find a release?
"A thousand percent!" Lacey says. "She also has a backup boy. Who is apparently her real 'boyfriend.' Apparently they dated all throughout her coming-out-of-the-closet, and didn't break up because they love each other or whatever. He was actually cool with it! He literally said he found her with another woman hot, and rumour has it they had common threesomes."
"Dude." I trail off, grinning. I've totally missed this; gossiping with my best friend. It's just so different doing it over the phone than it is in person. It's like it's more real and exhilarating.
"I know right." She smirks, then lets out a loud yawn.
I chuckle. "You should go to bed. You have school in nine hours."
She pouts and sighs. "Yeah, you're right. Are you going to come tomorrow?"
"I don't know," I say honestly. "It depends. If I'm tired, then probably not, but I'll let you know."
"Okay." She smiles, and crawls under her sheets. I follow suit, my eyelids growing heavy as I finally let the jet lag settle in that I've been holding in for hours because I missed my best friend. I yawn as well, closing my eyes and hoping that the rest of my trip won't be so difficult.
***
"So I've been thinking. . ." Lace trails off as we're sat on one of the pool chairs in her backyard. I chose not to go to school yesterday or today. Yesterday was the jet lag, but this morning was the nerves. I have somehow convinced myself that today would be an absolutely shitty day if I went in, so I refused. It was a gut feeling, so I actually went with it.
I tip my sunglasses down to stare at her. "About what?"
"You haven't changed much, have you?" She asks, and I furrow my eyebrows.
"How do you mean?"
"Like, in general."
"I'd like to think not, but I've changed, yes."
"Perhaps not your money ways?" She says, and I frown.
"What are you getting at, Lacey?"
"Okay, okay," she breathes out, sitting up and facing me. "You wouldn't care to go on a spree, would you?"
I scowl at her. "A spree-spree?"
"Yes."
My frown turns into a smile. "Of course I'm interested. I need a wardrobe update!"
"Ooh!" She squeaks. "I like the sound of that. What kind of wardrobe update?"
"I need to look like a tomboy." I say simply.
"A tomboy? Like, high top shoes, or. . ."
"No, like, plaid shirts, jeans, cowboy boots, cowboy hats, the whole nine yards."
"Why?" She giggles.
"Because I already ruined two really expensive ankle boots from the mud up north and I'll be damned if I ruin another. So, that being said, if I'm going to be country, I need to look it."
"But you're city?"
"Well, yeah, but I mean if I need to spend the next seven months playing around in the mud like a country kid then I may as well look the part, right? Besides, I think I will rock the hat."
"True that." She grins. "So, let's go!"
"Okay." I giggle, getting out of the chair and following an excited Lacey to the house.
I have to admit, I've missed the warmth. It's never been this warm in Thunder Bay, and I'll be so upset to have to leave the heat of L.A. and head to Canada, where it'll be winter and freezing and having snow cover the ground.
I hate cold.
***
"Why can't I find a pair of jeans that will not only make my butt look nice, but will also fit me in the hips, not sag on my thighs or legs, and not be a pair of socks, stretching far past my ankles?" I groan, tossing another pair of light-wash skinny jeans back onto the shelf after trying them on. They fit nice, except they went inches past my toes.
"I don't know, ask the jeans." Lace mumbles.
"Why does everything have to be perfectly fitted for women over five-foot six and not dwarfs like myself?"
"Brooklyn, you're only five-foot four. You're not that short."
"I'm not tall, either!" I protest.
"Whatever," she scoffs, and picks up a pair of lighter jeans, more so a very, very, opal blue in colour. "Try this on. It looks to be short and stubby enough for you."
"Hey!" I whine.
"Shut it." She scolds, pointing towards the change room doors behind me. "Go change."
I roll my eyes and head back to room, slipping out of my sweats and squeezing myself into the jeans. "Thank you, Lacey." I whisper to myself, looking at my lower half in the mirror. I look good.
Time for a check: fit in the legs?
Yes.
Hips don't sag?
Yes.
Longer than my legs?
No.
Fits bum?
Ooh, I look bootylicious.
"I found the perfect pair!" I holler out to my best friend.
"Well don't just stand there and drool over yourself! Let me drool, too!"
I smile widely and open the change room door, revealing myself to Lacey.
I spin around so she has views of all my curves and she eyes me warily. She checks me out a few minutes longer before she clicks her tongue.
"That's the pair!" She exclaims suddenly.
I smile widely and rush back, peeling the denim off my legs and bringing them out to the store to the cashier. "God, do I miss shopping." I sigh.
"And I'm sure shopping misses you, too." She giggles. When it comes to my turn, the lady behind the counter tallies up my items and gives me my total. I hand her a bill, and mentally high five myself for forgetting to change my currency, so I still have US dollars left and not Canadian.
"Have a nice day." She smiles.
"You too." I reply.
"I'm starved!" Lace exclaims when we exit the shop, a bunch of bags around our wrists. "Let's go to the food court."
I nod in agreement, following beside her as we walk towards the other side of the mall. When we get there, Lace and I split up, while she goes and grabs some seafood, I grab pizza, since I'm not all too hungry at the moment.
We meet at a booth in the corner, where we're isolated. I wanted my arrival to be secretive, because I really want to see my friends' reactions when I show up tomorrow at school to surprise them, so I'm avoiding showing my face to the public.
I take a bite of the pizza, chewing it slowly. I glance up, seeing Lacey staring at me, with a confused look on her face. "What?"
"I. . . I haven't seen you eat pizza since eighth grade." She says softly.
I swallow. "Um, yeah, about that." I place the slice down on the paper plate in front of me, and wipe my hands on a napkin. "You'll never believe how much progress I've made."
She raises a brow. "Well, you're eating, so that's progress in itself."
I roll my eyes. "Well, yeah, but I stopped for a while when I moved into their house. Now, you'll never believe how much I eat."
"Um."
"I eat half of meals." I say. "I'm currently working on three quarters, but I did all this all within the past month, so, you know, I'm pretty proud of myself."
"That's great!" She smiles widely. "I'm glad you're bouncing back, Brookie."
"Yeah." I grin. "I hope it stays this way, too. I want to be able to look back and say that throwing those out was the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Me too." She says. "What about the others?"
"I have a new psychiatrist." I say gruffly. "I don't like her, but she's made more progress with me than Dr. Haynes did."
"Really?" She asks amusedly, her eyebrows raised. "Wow."
"Yep." I sigh. "It took a lot of convincing on my dad's end of the line, though, just to put off the sessions for me to come here. It was a lot of work, but I just need to talk to her over FaceTime or Skype for the same amount of times."
"Well that's not too bad then, right? I mean, at least you don't need to go to the office. Or, better yet, you didn't have to stay back in the country just because of them."
"Yeah, that's true." I shrug. "I don't want to be stuck with her as long as I did with Dr. Haynes, though."
"I'm sure it'll be shorter." Lacey assures me.
I frown. "What makes you so sure?"
"Well," she says, "for starters, with your doc here, you didn't make any efforts to get out of her office."
"So?"
"So, you also didn't try fixing yourself. You didn't bother trying to eat or be happier or nicer."
"I was in prison, I had nothing to lose."
"You had everything to lose, Brooklyn. You could have lost your friends, your parents, your family. You put everyone in danger."
"You know why I did it." I say calmly. "You and everyone else knew exactly why I did it." They don't know what I did, but they knew we were struggling.
"You didn't need a gang to do it."
Yeah, because I don't need a gang to help me get instant cash to get my family and his out of the gutter, my subconscious says. Like Lacey even knows what it's like breaking and entering someone's house and holding them hostage at gunpoint while your leader steals overdue cashed owed to him to pay us for providing a service.
"You don't know what I went through with Riverton, Lacey." I whisper. "You know what you're allowed to know. Taylor is the only one who knew exactly what happened and why we did what we did."
"You're not with Riverton anymore, Brookie. You can tell us now."
"I can't," I say, "I can't and you know it. They have eyes everywhere, and until they're busted all of their secrets I know, remains unknown to everyone else."
"I'm your best friend." She says sadly. "You can trust me."
"I know, and I do. But even though I'm out, I still took an oath."
"You fucked your life up, all for what, exactly?" She demands. "And don't give me the original reason, Brookie, because there's more to it."
I inhale deeply, tears starting to form in my eyes. I had good intentions; I always have good intentions. That was a good intention. I was going to change our lives, but ended up fucking them up instead. And another family's.
When a tear finally escapes, I'm quick to wipe it away and sniffle. "I loved him." I whimper.
Lacey frowns, furrowing her eyebrows as she watches me silently. "Brookâ"
"You don't understand because you weren't there." I continue. "It's like you and Casey. You love each other both to death, and you'd do anything for him. Taylor's life was hell in Riverton and he needed someone to save him. I wanted to be his hero."
"You are his hero." She tells me. "You tried, and you helped him. You gave him attention nobody else had."
"I sent him to. . ." I sob, pulling my hoodie over my face and breathing heavily. "I wasn't his hero. I made his life worse."
"No." She snaps. "You gave him everything you could! You gave him love, support, and happiness. It was his decision to take the blame for you, Brooklyn. You did nothing wrong."
"I did, Lacey. . . I did something terribly wrong."
Her eyes widen and she moves in closer to me. She doesn't look angry; she looks confused and curious. "Brooklyn?"
I bow my head down in shame. There is no easy way to tell her that I ruined a family.
Forever.
"Lacey. . . I killed Christian Crozier."
_______________________________________________________________
And we'll stop it there.
So it seems that all of my books include murder, even a teen-fic romanceðð
I know this seems wrong, but trust me that this isn't the case, ahah. There's more to Brooklyn's story than the cliffhanger lets on:))