“What do you mean was?” Brandon said, obviously confused.
I stood there like a mute. And I was watching it happen, but like in a horrible nightmare, I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
“Yeah, it was tough on all of us when she died.”
“Died?”
“Cancer. Stupid, life-sucking cancer, man.” Marc placed the frame back on the mantle. “Oh hey, Marissa.” He said after he noticed me standing there.
Brandon’s eyes met mine. I noticed they looked glassy and distraught. He marched over to me.
“Brandon,” was all I could get out before he cut me off.
“Your mom died?”
“Brandon—”
“When were you going to tell me this?” There was hurt and anger in his words, and his entire body was tensed up like a statue.
“Please, just let me explain.” I reached for his arm, but before I could touch him, he pulled away and booked it for the front door. No, no, no! “Wait!” I yelled so loudly that I probably woke up Gram. Then I raced after him much in the same way I had raced after him only a day before when he didn’t know who Marc was. He kept saying the word “unbelievable” over and over again. I tried to throw myself in front of his car door again, but this time he physically moved me to the side.
“Never in my life Marissa has anyone ever put one over on me like this.” His face was beet red. “You must think I’m a big idiot. Some idiot who can’t relate.” He threw his hands up in the air. “Seriously, Marissa? I brought you to my brother’s grave today!”
As he threw himself down into the driver’s seat, I tried to say something, anything, but nothing came out. I watched him slam his car door shut and drive away. In the driveway, I stood, still holding the pamphlet in my hands. Only now, it had begun to wrinkle as my tears fell from my face onto the bright pink paper. The one person who could have understood how I was feeling had just gotten in his car and left me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thursday, I went to school. Brandon wasn’t there. He didn’t answer his phone when I called, and he didn’t reply to my texts. I went through my classes in a fog. Zoe told me about how things were going with her and Rob from Freshly Made. Apparently, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Good for her. Some people are just made for relationships, and others aren’t. Recent events had proven that I wasn’t.
Friday, my stomach felt like I had eaten a box of nails when I thought I saw Brandon walking down the halls at lunchtime. It wasn’t him. Again, he didn’t answer any of my attempts to communicate with him. I couldn’t blame him, though. I’d come to the conclusion that he probably never wanted to see me again. I just wanted the chance to explain, which sounded so stupid, because how do you explain being a coward?
Friday night, I decided I at least needed to get some stuff off my chest. If he wouldn’t talk to me, I could leave him a message. And then maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to, at least, talk to me. Maybe… eventually.
“This is Brandon, leave a message.” His voice sounded smooth and sweet.
The beep went off, and when I tried to speak, only a squeaking sound came out at first. I cleared my throat. “Brandon. Hey. I know you’re ignoring me, and that’s cool. I mean, I get it. I would ignore me, too, if I were you. But I just had to say some stuff. That day at my house, I was going to tell you all about my mom. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I was. See, I’m doing this race tomorrow, a 10K, just over six miles, at Ridgemont High School, it’s to benefit breast cancer. And it’s like the first time I’ve been willing to come out to people about my life. But I wanted to start with you. Brandon, listen, I admire you so much, how you’ve been able to deal with Bobby’s death, and I wish I could have been like that, been open about my mom and stuff. But, for the past year, all I’ve done is deny it. It hurt too much to deal with.” I wiped away some tears. “But I’m finally ready Brandon, because of you, your strength, your ability to live your life for Bobby, in honor of Bobby. I want to do that Brandon, for me. And for my mom. I hope one day you can forgive me. I miss you.” I hung up.
The phone fell from my limp hand and onto my bed. From under my pillow, I took the photo of my mom and me at my thirteenth birthday party. We had smudged birthday cake on each other’s faces. Both of our smiles were bright and beaming. I wanted to smile like that again someday. Tomorrow was a new day. Every day was a new day.
****
“Are you sure you stretched enough?” Gram said as she pinned my race number onto my back.
“I’m sure, Gram.”
“Oh, I can’t wait for you to break through the tape at the end!” Zoe bounced excitedly.
“Zoe, that’s only for first place. I will not be in first place.” I took one last sip of water.
“Yeah, maybe second.” Marc winked at me.
Gram hugged me tightly. “Marc has it set up so we’ll get a text on his phone of where you are during the race. So maybe we can yell for you at a few of the mile markers.” Then she whispered in my ear. “She’d be so proud of you.”
She and Marc left,
