“Don’t lie. Tell me the truth only if you’d like, but don’t lie.” He says, turning his head to me.
Something about his look, about his person, abouthim, makes me want to unlock the vault and let it all out. So I do.
“I was just thinking about my mom. Shocking, I know.” I spit out in the most inaudible sound I have ever let out. For the nod he just gave, he heard it. I’m expecting him to say something, likeDon’t worry about itor a simpleLet’s talk about something else then. But he doesn’t say a word. He’s looking right through me, listening. When I don’t add anything else, he starts to move his hand closer to mine, and when they touch, he moves his head to the side, as if he’s asking if it’s okay, and surprisingly or not at all, I nodyes. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me gently. I want to be strong, and I want to pull away, but I can’t. So the walls I built for years are now falling apart. Piece by piece. “My dad said that she-” A triple knot is starting to form in my throat at this point, and I try my hardest to swallow. “That she loved me. But if she loved me, w-why…” I feel a single tear running down my face.
I hate this. I hate to be seen crying and emotional. I hate that I ruined our date. Why can’t I stop messing up? And why now?
“You know what, you don’t have to hear me complaining. I already ruined our date. I don’t know, drop me at my house, and I’ll pay for dinner for the effort with the projector.” I say, looking up at him and trying to get out of his arms. His arms soften for me to get out, but he’s not moving. He’s just standing there, looking at me. Then his treacherous dimples lighten my day.
“Now, why would I watch Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone alone? That’s just sad andcruel.” He tilts his head, and his mouth morphs into a smirk.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” I blink, because it was not at all what I expected him to say.
“I don’t care, because it worked.” He says this as if he needed this to work. Like my smile means something. My happiness.
“I guess that’s what-” He coughs weirdly. “Friendsdo.”
A small laugh gets out of my body.
“What,whatnow do?” I get my head closer to him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Friends. I said friends, now let’s go.”
I’d like to know how this happened. Wearefriends. Because a friend is a person that you can trust, that you can always have a laugh with or a cry with, and mostly, is a person who is there for you, ready to take you in their arms and listen to all your problems. That understands you. How did he manage to walk through the invisible line that separated acquaintances from friends, with ease and without me noticing andevicting him?
I look at Jake, the biggest smile spattered across my face.
“But I will not call you Madelaine! That’s just weird.” He warns, a finger pointing back at my face while he walks towards the trap door.
“I agree.” I assure scrunching my nose.
But it is kind of funny, if you think about it. The only person who calls me by my last name is him, and he makes it sound like he enjoys it. Like he likes calling me Brown, and my first name is just invisible. And I don’t mind it because every time he calls me Brown, I already know what to expect. Because I’m certain that to him, there’s a difference between the two names. Madelaine, Mads, or Maddie is this person who’s ready to be there and be sweet, with feelings showing, and immune to teasing. Brown, on the other hand, is fiery and sometimes rude, but alwaysready to counter back any teasing because she’s definitely not immune to the teasing. She’s this fierce person with a short temper that sometimes shows the worst. She’s not the eldest daughter, keeping it together for her dad and little sister. The only similarity in both parts is the hopeless romantic part, but Brown is better at hiding it.
We get out of the castle, and Mr. Jones and his twisting face, trying to be nice, leave us dead of laughter inside.
As soon as we’re alone by his motorbike, I consider confessing that this was the first time I cried, like really cried and sobbed, since the incident with the photos and such, but I figure I already told him too much and decide to lock the vault and throw away the key. There is little chance of this happening again.
And I was right not to ruin the mood for now. Because we spent the rest of the night quoting Harry Potter and deciding which of us quoted who. He also had my popcorn ready for me and an extra water bottle when I finished my Coke.
26
Daniel-San Would Be Proud of My Skills
My chest feels light, and the breakdown is like a distant memory. It was yesterday and today, to be honest, I slept all day because I actually stayed up all night with Jake, and we only returned home right before my dad woke up. This relationship might be false, but my dad’s freak-outwouldn’t be.
I’m sitting down on my bed inside my empty childhood room, while Allison snores in our twin bed guest room, next door. To be honest, everyone’s already asleep. Dinner was just dining out at the local pizza place. Then Allison made me spill everything about the date, and I didn’t tell her about my mental breakdown, which I feel bad about because she has tried to talk with me about it. And things are normal between us. She started an apology, and I just respondedI know. We quickly hugged, and now things are taking their time coming back to normal.Relationships are hard, whether it’s friendships, family or fake dating.
The question is, how did Jake do that? Lift the worry off me with such ease that it seems so simple to solve. It felt easier when it wasn’t. That thought appeals to my mind and scares my heart at the same time. My curious self wants to know how, but my emotional self wants to know why. Silence, for the first time in my life, lets my thoughts wander through my head peacefully. I drop against my pillow and rest on my bed, lying on top of the sheets with tiny pink dots against a white canvas.
I wish I could see or hear, or remember something. Something that could make my thinking even clearer to my eyes. He took me on a date under the guise of our fake relationship, if that makes sense. That’s the truth, but what’s also the truth is that his face lit up when I said we were friends, and that little spark shining through his eyes started to evolve into a tiny fire, and for moments only, it seemed that that little fire could be a burning and world-consuming one. But also, he’s West. How could I even consider that? I don’t know how these thoughts invaded my head, but the truth is that they can’t get out now. They’re trapped, and I’m really getting mad about thisconfusion.
When did it turn distant and sarcastic between us? I have some sort of memory of us being remotely close in our childhood. What if I wrote about him sometime in my life in my childhood diary? I haven’t seen that inyears; maybe going through it could clear my head.
It’s not very difficult to reach it since it has never left its original spot. At the bottom of a box full of toys is the diary I’m now holding in my hands, sitting in my bed. I open it, and the first page is just warnings. DON’T READ UNLESS YOU’REMADELAINE BROWN, written in bright red in capital letters.I am Madelaine Brown, so I have every right to read it.
FEBRUARY 1
Today, I went shopping with my dad and he bought me ice cream BEFORE dinner. Best. Day. Of. My. Life!!!
