Leaving Paradise

Page 30

"Let's hash it out. Right here, right now."
"Caleb, please, not so loud." My mom glances nervously at the neighbors' houses, making sure they don't witness the scene I'm about to make. God, I wish she'd stop worrying about appearances and see that her family is falling apart.
"What are people saying?"
"Nothing, Caleb. Everything's fine. Now stop this nonsense."
I step into the middle of the front yard and say as loud as I can, "Are they saying I've been starting fights at school? Are they saying I'm harassing Maggie? Making my friends drink alcohol? You think it's true, don't you? Come on, hit me with the fucking gossip already!"
"Now you've crossed the line," Dad says, stepping between us. "Go inside the house and calm down. You can apologize to your mother before supper."
I snap, like a rubber band that'd been pulled so tight for so long it just breaks apart violently. Kissing Maggie, school suspension, Kendra's manipulations, my sister's warning, my parents' inability to face reality, my mom's addiction problem, the false gossip ... all of it is driving me nuts.
"I'm not leaving this spot until we have it all out on the table," I say. I look at my sister.
"Caleb!" Leah cries. "Please stop."
My dad's posture stiffens even more, his lips purse and the expression in his eyes is hard. "This is my home," he says. "And as long as you live here you'll abide by my rules. Now go inside the house, leave your mother in peace, and ... calm ... down!"
I swallow, hard. It's not easy for me to say the next words coming from my mouth, but I can't hold it in any longer. My family is screwed up, each and every one of us. They want to stay ignorant, to forget reality and live in a made-up world they've created. It's fake, it's sick ... and I can't do it. I think the only way they'll heal is if I'm not here. I'm the root of their problems. If I take the root away, I'll remove the problem. "I'm leaving," I say.
My thoughts turn to Maggie, the one girl who I used to think wasn't worth a second glance. But when it comes right down to it, she's the strongest girl I know. She confronted me about Kendra before the accident, she goes to school even though people laugh at the way she moves, and she worked her ass off for Mrs. Reynolds in order to achieve her dream of going to Spain. The accident made her a stronger person. Hell, she made me a stronger person.
"Where do you think you're going?" Dad demands.
"Inside to pack, then I'm out of here. I can't live with shame and denial around me. And you shouldn't, either."
"This is who we are now, son. The accident changed us ... all of us. We were fine until you messed it all up."
I shake my head. "Don't you want to go back to the way it was before? I would do anything to make this family normal again."
"Shouldn't you have thought of that before you hit Maggie? I would have never thought I'd say this to my own son, but you ... Caleb Becker ... are a selfish bastard."
I walk past my parents and Leah, heading to my room. Pulling a duffle bag out of my closet, I stuff it without really thinking. I'm ready in five minutes, then look back at my room one last time.
My lightsaber is still on my shelf, waiting for me until I return. But I'm not coming back. Hopefully, after I leave, my mom won't have to drug her life to make it bearable and Leah can live her life the way she wants--with or without the truth. And Dad ... well, one day he'll have to face reality. When he's ready.
It's up to me now to pave the way for myself and to stop trying to make sure life is back to normal. Screw normal. Normal doesn't exist. Caleb Becker's family doesn't exist. I'm on my own now.
With a sigh of determination I step back in the room, snatch the lightsaber, shove it in the duffle, and head out. Leah is at the front door, blocking it. "Don't leave," she begs.
"Get out of my way."
"Mom and Dad need you, Caleb. I need you."
I give a short laugh. "Mom and Dad'll be just fine. They like living in denial. As for you ..." I take in her black attire. "You've got to get past the accident. Face the facts before people like Kendra make you face them. I can't protect you anymore. It's time to protect yourself."
I move around her and walk outside. I have no clue where I'm going or what to do, but I feel free. Tossing my duffle over my shoulder, I start walking. When I reach Maggie's house, I don't see her but I know she's inside.
I give her a goodbye salute and keep walking.
Mrs. Reynolds' gazebo is where I spend the cold, lonely night. When a shooting star flies above me as I stare up at the sky, I wonder if it's the old lady giving me a sign.
FORTY-FOUR
Maggie
Caleb kissed me last night at the basketball courts.
kissed him back. I still can't believe either of those things happened. I thought I was okay without needing him so much. I should have wiped off my lips and washed them with soap before I'd gone to bed, but instead I kept looking in the mirror. My lips are still puffy, a reminder of how Caleb's own lips were hot and demanding.
For years I'd imagined what kissing Caleb would feel like and taste like. To be honest, I wanted to push him away, to make him want me like I wanted him and to reject him like he rejected me.
But I couldn't.
All those feelings from my childhood came back, from the time Caleb urged me down from the tree in front of my house to the time he took the blame for that broken statue. I can't even forget the times he patted my back while I was crying to Leah about my parents' divorce. For the past year, the accident ruled my life and molded me into who I've become.
I've taken back my life.
Sitting on my bed, I pull up my pant leg. I notice that my heart is racing a little less as I scan the scars with my eyes. I used to think of them as angry scars, but now I don't see them as angry. They aren't even scary. I trace the lines with my fingers, and I don't even wish they'd disappear. They're a part of me.
I close my eyes, remembering the accident. It's so strange to think about that night without massive emotions running rampant through my veins. Through the darkness behind my lids, the image of Caleb driving the car that hit me is outlined in my head. But something doesn't feel right.
Chills run up and down my spine.
Because, as I shut my eyes tight, the image of the driver becomes clearer and the foggy haze dissipates.
It's Leah. A look of horror and fear in her eyes as she loses control of the car.
Leah was the one who hit me that night.
Not Caleb.
Why would he ... why would they ... ?
The doorbell rings while I'm still trying to sort it all out. My stomach is queasy. I want to throw up. But I can't, because my mother is calling me downstairs. I almost fall down as I greet a man and a woman wearing matching dark navy suits.
"Maggie, we're from the Illinois Juvenile Department of Corrections. We're here to investigate your complaint about Caleb Becker."
"I didn't file a complaint," I tell them.
The woman opens her briefcase and pulls out a folder. "We have documentation you called the 1-800 juvenile justice number complaining to the operator that Caleb Becker was harassing you."
Oh my God. I shake my head and look to my mom. "I didn't call. Mom, I swear I didn't call."
"Are you sure?" the man asks. "You don't have to be afraid, Maggie. We're here to make sure you're protected."
I stand up. "I'm not afraid of Caleb. We're friends."
My mom says, "Please excuse my daughter. She doesn't know what she's talking about. She's been instructed not to have any contact with that boy. Right, Maggie?"
I bite down on my bottom lip. "Mom ..."
"Maggie?"
Last night at the park makes sense now, why he was testing me. Oh, how he must hate me, thinking I'd call and complain when I would never do anything to hurt him. Kendra would hurt him. I wouldn't. "I have to go see him."
"Maggie, come back here!"
I hobble over to the Beckers' house before anyone can stop me. Mrs. Becker answers the door.
"Is Caleb home?" I ask frantically. "I really, really need to talk to him. I know you probably hate me for being the reason he went to jail, but I think it was all a mistake and--"
"Caleb is gone," she says, totally unfazed by the words coming from her mouth. She even has a strange smile on her face. "He left."
By now my mom has followed me over to the Beckers' house with the investigators in tow.
Mom regards Mrs. Becker strangely. "Penny, what's wrong with you?"
As soon as my mom says it, Mrs. Becker slips and falls right into my mom's arms. After Mom shrieks, the two investigators help her carry Mrs. Becker into the house. "She's passed out," one of them says.
As they're taking care of Mrs. Becker, I step back. What did Mrs. Becker mean when she said Caleb has gone? I rush home, grab my keys and drive to Mrs. Reynolds' house. I check the garage, gazebo ... he's not here.
All along, I blamed Caleb for hitting me, without questioning his guilt. He pleaded guilty, but deep down I detected something strange in him. I thought it was a lack of remorse for hitting me, when all along it was a lack of guilt.
My heart sinks lower with each passing moment as I drive around Paradise. I'm looking for Caleb, or some sign he's still here. Before I know it, I'm at the place where my life changed.
The scene of the accident.
The skid marks from the car are still on the curb, a dark reminder of that day. I haven't come here since the accident. I wouldn't have had the strength before to relive it up close. I step out of the car and walk over to the fading skid marks, staring at them for what seems like forever. Will they eventually disappear altogether, so the only physical reminders of the accident will be the ones I carry with me?
I know the truth, though. That the visible scars aren't as deep as the emotional ones Leah and Caleb have been struggling with. I have a burning desire to help them, just as Caleb helped me. The most important thing I've learned the past few months is that friends are invaluable. People you love can get you through the toughest of times. They need me just as I need them. I miss Leah as my confidante, my best friend. And the love I have for Caleb is the forever kind that will never go away, no matter how hard I try to deny it.
"Maggie."
I turn around. Caleb is riding in a black Toyota, a guy I don't recognize at the wheel. Caleb tells the guy to stop the car, then he walks up to me. He looks sad and lonely and worried.
"How did we get here?" I ask.
"Here's where it all started."
"I didn't call and complain about you," I say hurriedly.
"You see, these investigators came to my house this morning and said they were following up on a complaint I made and I insisted I never made it and then I realized you must have thought I did and then--"
Caleb puts a finger to my lips, stopping my babble. "It doesn't matter."
"But it does. And I trust you. Isn't that what we're all about? Trust and honesty."
I need to prove it to him, a sign that I trust him without any reservations. I pull up my left pant leg with one hand, revealing all my scars up to my knee.
His brows knit together in pain, as if he was the one who put them on my leg. I take his hand in mine and together we trace the swollen lines with our fingers. "You see, there's nothing I want to hide from you anymore. Do you feel the same, Caleb? No secrets, no lies?" I need him to tell me the truth about what happened that night. I need to hear it from his own lips, his own words. Tell me you didn't hit me, I want to say. Tell me the truth.