“I don’t diet, sweetie.” Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “You are gorgeous. I knew moving back to America was going to be bad for your self-image.”
“It’s not that, Mom,” I assured her. “I’m just saying, did you ever indulge in something you shouldn’t have and then you ruined something else you had that was good?”
She looked at me for a long time. “When you were a little girl,” she began, “you had a really beautiful picture book. Your grandfather gave it to you. It had this really scary story about a witch and two children in it. You loved it.”
“The one where the witch had red eyes and it looked like her hair was a thorn bush?” In my mind’s eye, I could see the image as clear as if it were hanging in front of me on the museum wall.
“That’s the one.” Mom took a sip of her coffee and eyed me a little sadly. “It was your favorite thing in the world. Then you got a set of markers.”
“Uh-oh.” I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
“Yep.” She laughed. “You loved those markers as much as you loved the book. Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention one day and you went a little crazy. I was so upset with you! I felt like you ruined that book, and that was before you could just get online and order a new one. I had never seen that book before, and I’ve never seen it since.”
“Was I upset?” I palmed the pierced, juicing apple in my hand.
“No.” She shook her head. “That was the thing. You loved the book even more. I guess you somehow made it your own. Anyway, not only did you have me read the story the way it was, you had your own story added in. So I would read the page and then you would read me your version.” She leaned her cheek on her hand, her eyes far away. “It was so creative and wonderful. I wound up realizing how artistic it really was, and since you didn’t mind, I didn’t.”
“Do we still have that book?” I wanted to see this amazing mess I made as a kid.
“Probably in a tote in the attic. It’s one of my favorite art pieces from your youth. It was like you were doing early found art.” She preened. “Anyway, I have no idea what’s wrong, but whenever you’ve decided to indulge, you always make something wonderful come out of it.” She took my hand across the table, now slightly sticky from the sweet, oozing apple juice. “Brenna, we women need to learn to stop denying ourselves. Indulge.” She squeezed hard.
“Thanks, Mom.” Though I was pretty sure if she knew the details of my problem, she wouldn’t have been so pro-indulging.
We went back to the museum and looked around some more. I didn’t see Saxon, and I really, really didn’t care. I heard some of the other kids, kids a little older than me, talking about going dancing.
“Are you guys going dancing tonight?” I felt a little weird barging in on their conversation, but dancing sounded perfect.
“We are,” said a pretty red-haired girl with blonde eyebrows. “You’re Professor Blixen’s daughter? Brenna, right? I’m Caroline. This is Lydia and Brian.”
“Nice to meet you.” Lydia had dark, short hair and a sullen look. Brian was a little pudgy with light brown hair and a nice smile.
“Do you want us to come and get you? Is eight okay?” Caroline asked.
“I have to check with my mom, but it should be cool. Thanks.” I did go and check with my mom, and she was overjoyed, of course, so I told them yes.
And then I saw Saxon. He looked at me from across the gallery, where he was surrounded by downlit paintings and blank white wall space. He looked possibly nervous, but also definitely happy to see me. That look on his face made me feel a confusing mix of power and guilt.
“Some kids invited me to go dancing,” I said when I saw him. “Come with me.”
“Are you asking me on a date?” He stuck his hands in his pockets.
“I’m telling you that if you want to do this, you’ll come with me and dance.” I borrowed his usual arrogant tone. “Be at my room at seven thirty.”
I turned on my heel and walked away, and Saxon whistled as I left. That made several guys turn and check me out appreciatively. I didn’t even turn to glare, and I didn’t care if he was disappointed or not.
Soon we were ready to leave, but Mom and I got dropped off a few streets down from our hotel. She wanted to get me something to go dancing in.
“Something sexy.” Her eyes trained on a storefront window too far for any other human’s eyes. “Something like that.”
And there was a shimmery purple dress which I tried on and thought was way too short and low cut. Mom said I was being a prude, and finally managed to convince me to live a little and actually buy the gorgeous, sexy dress. She also talked me into silver heels and big, dangling silver disc earrings.
We ran back to the hotel, giggling over our purchases. Mom went to her room to nap, and I went to my room to untangle the knot I had tied around my love life.
I checked my watch. It was only five thirty Paris time. That meant it was still the middle of the day at home. I needed to call Jake.
My stomach clenched. I felt the buzz in my veins from before, but now the good energy from it felt worn out and I just felt a dull, draining ache, like I had been exposed to something too strong and very toxic.
I dialed the number and when he said my name, I felt a little queasy.
“Jake?” I said dully.
“What’s wrong?” He picked up on my bad vibe immediately.
The silence ticked between us.
“Brenna.” His voice was heavy. “Just tell me.”
“I…” How could I start? What could I say?
“That bad, huh?” I could hear his voice strain. “You can tell me.” He sounded so resigned.
“I kissed Saxon,” I said robotically.
He swallowed hard. I could actually hear it over the phone line. “Did he pressure you?”
I felt a little offended, inexplicably. “ Ikissed Saxon,” I repeated.
“Do you, um, have feelings for him?” I could hear the happiness drain from his voice.
“No.” I pressed my hand to my temples. “Some. Feelings. But not the way he thought. Not the way I thought. I feel…I feel like I messed some things up. And I feel like I had to. Does this make sense?”
“Well, you’re talking to the king of messing shit up, Bren.” Jake sounded hollowed out. “We had a decent run, right?”
“Jake, don’t…”
“Don’t what? I’m not the one sticking my tongue down someone else’s throat.” His voice sounded strangely barbed. Not strangely considering the situation. Just strangely considering that Jake had always been so gentle with me. “It’s a little bit of a shock, but I always did feel like you were out of my league.”
My face was already wet with tears. I sniffled and felt pathetic for doing it. “That’s not it. I felt something for him when we first met, and it’s never gone away. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I needed to know before you and I…”
“There is no more you and I,” Jake cut in coldly. I felt like I was drowning, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I felt like it was all my fault and there was nothing I could do to stop it or put it back the way it was.“Do you seriously expect me to wait here for you while you screw Saxon?”
I was desperate to explain, but every way I turned the words, they still sounded shallow and terrible. I was still breaking the heart of the only guy I’d ever loved. And I was a little defensive when I realized Jake thought I’d jump into bed with someone so casually. “I’m not screwing anyone. You don’t have to have sex with every person you’re mildly interested in, Jake.”
“Okay.” His voice sliced across the line. “Just have a little respect for me when I tell you that I’m not at all cool with your little experiment.”
“I understand that.” Tears slid down my face, and if I could have shaken myself by my own shoulders I would have. What had I done? And why had I done it?
“I guess I’ll be going.” The voice on the other end of the phone might have been coming from Jake’s mouth, but it wasn’t Jake. My Jake was dead and gone in a split second, so fast I didn’t even have time to catch one last sweet word to hold onto.