Authors: Rachele Alpine
Brett left.
He was gone.
Brett might have moved out, but he was still going to Beacon. I saw him Friday sitting next to Julia, and I waited until the bell rang and he stood to leave.
“We miss you,” I said, blocking his way.
“I highly doubt that.” He shifted his book bag on his shoulder and tried to move around me.
“Talk to Dad. He'll listen and understand. He'll forgive you, and you can move back into the house.”
“Forgive me?” he asked, glancing about at the ceiling and shaking his head.
“He's just busy with the team and coaching. You need to talk to him. It'll be okay.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“What?”
“Making excuses for Dad. Acting like he's allowed to be like this, to treat his kids like we're second rate. Wake up, Kate. He doesn't care. He's choosing the team over us. He always has and always will.”
“That's not true. Dad loves us.” I moved closer to him as bodies leaving the cafeteria pressed against us. I tried to stand my ground, but the movement around us made me unsteady on my feet.
“You're just like everyone else here, believing the team is God. When are you going to understand they're using usâyou, Dad, everyoneâand we're just playing their game? Talking to Dad is the last thing I want to do, and until you figure out how corrupt this whole school is I'm also done talking with you.”
“We don't need to pick sides here,” I said, lowering my voice, seeing people watching us.
“You're right. We don't need to pick sides,
because you already have.”
I let his words pour over me. Luke and some other guys on the team walked toward us. Something flew and hit Brett in the face.
“You have to be kidding me,” Brett said, swiping his cheek.
“Oh, sorry, man. We were trying to find the trash can. Didn't mean to confuse it with you,” Luke said loudly, and the rest of the guys slapped him on the back.
“Screw you,” Brett spat at them. He turned to me, “Yeah, Dad is real busy with the team. It's nice to be reminded of the important work he's doing.”
“Brettâ”
“
Brett
,” Luke mimicked in a high falsetto.
Brett pushed his shoulders back and stared me down. “Do me a favor. Leave me alone. It looks like you and Dad are fine without me.” He walked away.
It wasn't until Brett was gone that I realized I was standing alongside the team, just like Dad.
www.allmytruths.com
Today's Truth:
Be careful what you wish for.
I used to think being compared to Dad was a compliment.
I grew up watching him slay my dragons.
He was my prince, saving me from the dangers that lurked under my bed in the dark.
Now I understand the danger of exalting someone.
The privilege, the favors, the special treatment.
How you have to choose to worship the gods or get stepped on by the followers.
My friends, my boyfriend, the past months at
Beacon.
I know about these privileges, the favors, the special treatment,
and I never say anything.
Instead, I use it to my benefit.
I walk over those below me.
I finally am like Dad.
And I'm not sure I like who I have become.
Posted By: Your Present Self
[Friday, November 22, 4:58 PM]
Our family was an official mess, and I seemed to be left to deal with it by myself.
I didn't tell Dad about my conversation with Brett in the cafeteria. I tried not to think about what Brett had said. Was being like Dad really so bad?
I shook the thought out of my head. I needed to try to fix my family. If Brett wasn't willing to talk to Dad, maybe I could convince Dad to talk to Brett.
I waited until we were seated for dinner to say anything. The two of us had been moving around the house in relative peace these last few days. I didn't want to upset things, but I needed to get this out.
“Do you worry Brett is okay?” I asked while I pounded the bottom of the ketchup bottle, trying to get the stubborn stuff to come out.
“That's a ridiculous question. Of course he's okay,” he responded and picked up the TV remote to turn the volume up so high that I'd have to yell if I wanted to continue the conversation.
He had answered so quickly, without thinking, and I wonderedÂ
what
 was ridiculous. Was it ridiculous because Brett was somewhere safe right now? Or was it because he would be safe when he joined the Army? Or because he wouldn't be? Did he just feel it was ridiculous to ask questions about Brett at all? I stared at Dad, willing him to look at me, to see that I wanted to keep talking, but he kept his eyes fixed on the TV. He ate his hot dog slowly, not putting it down between bites, apparently so he wouldn't have to move his gaze and risk connecting with mine.
“Do you even know where he is? Don't you care about any of this?”
“Your brother is fine. He's staying with your uncle John. You don't need to worry.”
“Do you think about him, Dad?” This time I knew the question was ridiculous. “I mean, not just about him but about what he did? Do you think about him dying? That we might lose him over there?”
Dad remained silent. The image on the TV had shifted, and now the newscaster talked about the desert, the war, and the soldiers.
I strained my neck, squinting at the screen, picturing Brett in one of the faces of the soldiers. “Why can't we talk about this?” I slammed a hand on the table. A coffee mug swayed on the edge before I grabbed it.
The story about the soldiers ran for ten more seconds, and then the newscaster started a story about a group of kids recycling. Dad turned the TV off, the image disappearing into a black screen.
I kept talking. “I can't stop worrying. I don't know how to stop.”
“Not now, Kate. I can't focus on this now. I have way too much to do before the game to talk about this.”
“You never want to talk about it,” I yelled and pushed my hand across the table, sending the coffee mug flying. It cracked on the floor, the pieces scattering, but even that wasn't enough to get Dad to listen.
Ali stopped and grabbed my hand while were walking to lunch. “Guess what. I got my parents to agree to let us use the cabin.” She grinned.
Her family had a place on a lake two hours out of town. She'd always called it her family's weekend cabin, and I'd pictured something like the tiny place my family had rented for two nights one summer when I was young. But when I saw pictures of Ali's cabin, I learned I was very mistaken.
It was huge, full of guest rooms decorated in rustic themes with beds covered in flannel blankets and handmade quilts. There was a giant family room with a fireplace two stories tall and a loft. The back deck overlooked the lake, and she had picture after picture of her family racing around on their boat. Ali might have said she was going to the family cabin, but I joked that she was going to the family resort.
I was dying to go to Ali's family's cabin. I had bugged her all the time to invite me, but now I wasn't sure if I'd be able to hold myself together for an
entire weekend.
When I didn't answer, she snapped at me. “Well, don't act all excited. I thought you wanted go to the cabin. I even got my parents to agree to let us go there without them.”
“I did want to go,” I said, feeling bad about my response. “But it's different now. I've kind of been in a bad mood.”
“That's why I figured you'd like the trip. To get your mind off things, to remind you that you can still have fun.”
“Fun is the last thing on my mind right now,” I snapped, irritated she was trying to tell me how to feel when she had no idea what I was going through.
“I'm not trying to make you mad. I thought this would be a good time. We all did. I invited the boys, including Dave, so we can try to hook him up with Jenna. My parents made me swear up and down I wouldn't invite anyone except you, but they're going to be so busy this weekend with my brothers' games and Heather's gymnastics meet that they won't have time to check on us. It's perfect, and it's going to be so much fun.”
“You talked to Jack?”
Ali nodded.
“Before asking me?”
“God, it's not like you own him. I can talk to him.”
“What did you tell him? That I needed some cheering up so we should have a pity party for me?”
“No one thinks this is for you. It's a fun weekend together to help you get your mind off things. You can have fun with your friends who are missing you.”
She was doing this to be nice.
“Okay, I'll try. I just need to convince Dad it's a good idea.”
“That'll be easy. The hard part was convincing you.”
Ali was right. Dad didn't give the weekend trip a second thought, and I soon found myself heading to the cabin.
I sat next to Jack in his truck as we followed Ali's car, which was packed full of suitcases, food, Jenna, Dave, and Luke. We'd met in the parking lot at Beacon so Ali's parents didn't know the weekend plans involved more than the two of us.
Jack drove for over an hour on the highway and then took an exit that led us to tree-lined, twisting roads where the branches were so low they slapped the windows as if trying to get our attention. Jack kept up a constant stream of conversation with me or the others via his cell phone.
He turned to me and winked. “I think we should sneak away when it's dark and explore the woods.”
I rolled my eyes. I knew what he wanted to explore, and it wasn't the woods. “It's freezing cold outside.”
“I guess we'll just have to make sure we keep each other warm inside.”
We arrived a little after two and unloaded the packed car. We were only staying for a night, but based on the food, drinks, sleeping bags, clothes, iPod, speakers, and other random items jammed into the car, it seemed we were planning to move in permanently.
“So remind me again what you left at home,” Luke joked, pulling out a suitcase on wheels.
Ali said, “You never know what you want to wear until it's time to put it on. What if I hadn't packed the one outfit I wanted? This stuff is important.”
“Oh, yes, real important.” Luke pulled out a tennis racket. “It's December. We're not playing tennis. Was there anything you didn't pack?”
“For your information, that isn'tÂ
my
 racket. It's my brother's. He probably left it in there after practice. Geez, give me a break.” She dragged a bag into the house.
The afternoon and early evening were low-key. We made a fire, cooked a huge pot of spaghetti, and mixed our Kool-Aid with vodka, turning our drinks thick and sugary. I tried to stay focused on Jack, on being with him and my friends, and the fact that I was having fun.
After dinner we all sat around the fire in the great room. I'd changed into black stretch pants and a Beacon sweatshirt, but even with my heavier clothes and the fire I was cold. I pressed up against Jack, stealing his heat as we sat clutching plastic blue cups of Kool-Aid. I drank slowly. The sugar made me feel sick, and I didn't want to drink too much vodka.
Jack wrapped his arms around my shoulders and gave me a giant hug. I tried to squirm away, but he held tighter. “I'm glad we're here,” he whispered.
It wasn't hard to agree. IÂ
was
 glad I was there.
“Let's play a game,” Ali suggested.
“Strip poker?” Luke yelled.
All the girls groaned while the boys cheered.
“That could be fun,” Ali said, giving Luke a look that made it clear they would play that game later. “But I was thinking more like a drinking game. Something with questions or dares.”
“Ugh, not truth or dare,” I said. “It's too cold, and we always have to do stupid things like kiss another girl or something.”
Luke let out a whoop of delight.
I shot him a dirty look.
“What about never have I ever?” Jenna said. She was sitting next to Dave, but so far nothing seemed to be happening between the two of them. Ali and I joked in private that Jenna was more interested in the drawings she sketched than anyone in real life. “We go around taking turns asking questions, and if you have done it or can answer yes, then you take a sip.”
“Oh, I like it,” Jack said, squeezing me closer to him. “I'm sure there's a bunch of dirt I still don't know about Kate.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, so true. My life was full of scandal before I came to Beacon.”
“Okay, bring it on,” Ali said. She'd been drinking steadily since dinner, and by the way she slurred, it was obvious she needed to slow down. If not, she'd be waking up to her own scandalous stories. “I'll go first, since it's my house. Never have I ever stolen anything.”
“You're not starting out easy are you?” Jenna said as sh
e raised her cup to her lips
.
Jack, Luke, and Dave did the same.
I sat merely holding my glass.
“Kate, you're honestly telling me you've never stolen anything before?” Dave asked.
“Um, not that I know of,” I said, already uncomfortable with the game and the idea that some of us were using it to judge each other.
“I don't believe that,” Dave pressed. “What about answers to tests or a report or questions someone else had written?”
“What? That's not stealing,” Luke interrupted. “That's called smart losers giving you help.”
The boys high fived each other.
I frowned. I thought about how Jack had passed my history questions around.
“Okay, I have one,” Luke said. “Never have I ever made out with a girl.”
“Oh, yes, hot,” Dave rooted and all the boys chugged quickly so as not to miss which of us girls would take a sip.