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Mom is washing the dishes, but I know she's within earshot and listening in. “Did you need a hand, Mom?” I ask, hoping that will get me out of the awkward conversation I can feel looming.
“No, honey, you’ve had a big day. I’ve got this,” she replies.
“Cassandra, you didn’t answer me. Is this a problem I need to take care of?” His face is so serious it actually scares me. How would he even take care of this? He can’t control who works at the school. And why would he even need to?
“No, whatever happened is in the past. There is no issue to worry about,” I tell him, hoping that will be enough to get him off my back. He doesn’t know the half of what took place, and it’s going to stay that way. Just because Brandon is unfortunately back in my life, that doesn’t mean any old ghosts will be showing themselves. The shit that I did back then is buried so deep no one except for Jasmine knows what happened, and I know she will take it to the grave with her. I wish I could talk to her tonight; she could help me process it all. But she’s going through enough herself, so I don’t want to burden her with more of my problems.
“He’d better stay the hell away from you, or I will go down to that school and deal with him myself.” His face is getting redder by the minute, his disdain for Brandon so powerful.
I rub his arm, trying to calm him down. I never understood why he hates him so much. Yeah, he found out his baby was dating a college football player five years her senior, but that’s not really any reason to lose your shit. I mean, I guess I get why he didn’t want us seeing each other. Dad wanted the best for me. They had invested a lot of time and money into my dancing, and they wanted me to achieve greatness, but as I explained to him back then, Brandon brought out the best in me. He wouldn’t hold me back; he wanted me to follow my dreams. At least that was what I thought, anyway. Turns out I wasn't all that special to him at all.
“Thanks for your concern, Dad, but I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself, and really, I don’t think there are going to be any problems. I have my career to focus on and so does he.”
He gives me a nod, like he believes me. “You're a smart girl, Cassandra.” He gives me a squeeze then wanders off down the hall to brood in his study. I smile, wondering why it still feels good to have validation from my father. I might be an adult, but I still care what my family thinks of me.
“You sure, love? You can talk to me about anything if you need to.” Mom gives me a sympathetic glance. I know she wants us to be close again. But I just can’t.
“Yeah, I’m sure, Mom. I might call it a night. I’m exhausted after today. Thanks for dinner.” I smile as warmly as I can muster.
“Okay, Cass. Love you,” she says as I wander away.
“Love you too, Mom.”
As soon as I close my bedroom door, I go in search of the little musical jewelry box I stashed in my wardrobe. It has to be in here somewhere. I wouldn’t have thrown it out. Feeling around up on the top shelf, pushing away old clothes and photo albums, my hand lands on it, hard and smooth, just smaller than a shoebox. I pull it down, looking over the intricate image on the front of a pretty ballerina in soft pastels. I pop open the lid. It's been so long since I even thought about this, but something in me tonight needs to see the memories I have inside.
Sitting on my carpeted floor, I cross my legs and place the box in front of me. The little ballerina who used to spin to the music has been snapped off. She’s broken, just like me. I take out a photo; it’s of Brandon and me, a moment in time captured that fall break. We both look so content then, the smiles on our faces real. Brandon had taken me out of town. We spent the entire day just wrapped up in each other’s arms. That was the day I knew I had fallen in love with him. Now when I look back, I can’t imagine I was correct, just ignorant. It was lust, that’s all. He was my first, and I was hanging on to that, thinking it meant something when it didn't.
I don’t think I even believe in the idea of being in love with someone anymore. People are selfish. They take what they want from life. Love is supposed to be selfless, not about what you can get, but what you can give. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is really that altruistic. When it comes down to it, we want for ourselves what can take us further in life, make us feel happier or more accomplished. It’s about how that person makes us feel at the time, and emotions like that are fleeting. It won’t last. Once a need is filled, we look for the next thing to satisfy us. That’s why I decided never to commit to another man again; it’s just not worth it.
I drag out the shiny gold necklace with a little star dangling in the center. Brandon found it at a quant antique store and just had to get it for me. I still remember every second of it, the way he brushed my hair over my shoulder and draped it around my neck, the small kiss he placed just below my ear and the way he whispered, For luck, not that I think you need it. You’re a star, baby. His words sent a shiver of goosebumps down my arms. A shining star for the one everyone thought I would be.
It’s broken now, the clasp bent from the force of when I ripped it off my neck the day he messaged me to tell me it was over. I can still feel the physical pain that radiated through my chest as I read the words. It was nothing compared to the hurt that came later, but at the time, I had thought it was a pain worse than death. Total heartbreak. I thought we would be together forever. I knew I was young, but I thought we had something special. Turned out I was wrong.
There's also a small snowflake decoration from the first night when we met at the Christmas showcase. He told me I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and I believed him, stupidly falling under his spell.
I look back into the box, finding a note folded so many times that when I open it, I have to flatten out the page with my hand so I can read the scribbled handwriting. It was slipped into my locker the last day of school before fall break, telling me to meet him behind the coffee shop on Main Street. I had been giddy with excitement that day. If only I had known what was to come, I could have avoided all of this.
I shove the items all back in the little box and slam it down on my bedroom floor. Why I thought I needed to take this trip down memory lane tonight, I don’t know. My hands tremble. I’m filled with so much irritation and so much anger still, and I don’t know what to do about it. Why can’t I cry? The pain is in there. I can feel it. I need it to come out so I can move on with my life. One little breakdown, then tomorrow I can get up and go about my life like none of this ever happened. Like he meant nothing to me and seeing him today didn’t bring up so much unfinished business that I can barely cope. I could be normal again. The happy, fun girl with her whole life ahead of her. I want to be normal again so badly I can feel it pulsating through my body.
Ahh!I scream internally, punching the comforter on my bed. I’m so fucking frustrated, I bury my clenched fists into the soft fabric over and over again until my arms won’t let me anymore, and I collapse on top of my bed in an exhausted heap. I’m so done with feeling like this. Empty, just a shell of the person I used to be. I want to live again, but even the thought of trying makes me scared.
Why is Brandon fucking Lewis back in my life now, when I was given a fresh start, a chance to work toward something real for my life again? Now I feel number than I did before. I don’t want to slip back into old habits, but I want to feel again, live again. I don’t want this. And I know being around him, I will fall back into old habits. When it comes to Brandon, I’m not strong enough to stop myself.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRANDON
Iwatchherallweek from across the field. She was serious about what she said and has kept her distance, only in the same room as me when we have to be, and even then, she hasn’t uttered a word to me. But whenever she’s around, I can’t help but take notice of her. I'm sure everyone does, she has that charismatic quality that people find alluring. And being this close to her after all this time has me wanting to know every little thing about her and what she has been up to since I left.
She has such a way with people, the way she interacts with the students, the other staff members. She is settling in just fine. They all adore her already, and why wouldn’t they? She is a shining star, after all. But it’s leaving me torn, knowing I have a job to do, and I shouldn't get distracted, but wanting to, anyway.
It’s Friday afternoon, and at the moment, she and Scarlet are having cheer tryouts on the other side of the football field to where Miles and I are running drills with our team. It’s been an intense week of training for the boys, and we have pushed them harder than old Coach Johnson would have last year. It will weed out the less interested players pretty quickly. If these boys want a spot on my team, they need to be the best, and the best train for long hours.
I catch a glimpse of her damn red ponytail again, and my line of sight stays on her. Knowing she’s this close is distracting. I thought I had my feelings for her under control, that I could be around her and not think about her constantly. Not have to stop what I was doing every five seconds just to make sure she was still around. But my obsession for her is growing stronger again, and since Monday when she stormed out of my office in her fiery rage, she has been the only thing on my mind.
I keep wondering what happened to her. Why didn’t she follow her dreams? This whole town was backing her. Her family would have done anything to see her achieve every last one of them. I know that for a fact. I can still picture the murderous look in her father’s eyes when he paid me a visit that night. Yet somehow, she ended up back here at our old high school. She had it all. Talent, beauty, grace, she would have made the perfect prima ballerina. It was one reason I didn’t stay and fight for us. Even though everything in me told me I should, that she was worth it, I knew her father was right. I was going to destroy her chances, and I couldn’t be that kind of selfish, not when I adored her the way I did.
Miles tosses a football my way, breaking me from my thoughts, and I catch it before it collides with my chest. “Ha, I knew you thought she was cute. You’ve been watching her all afternoon, bro. You might want to take some of your own advice and concentrate.”
