The Weight of Destiny (3 page)

When we lived together and had family meetings, this is where we’d sit. The only difference was back then the table sat at Mom’s house in the city. It’s where we talked when Mom had problems and we needed to come up with a plan. It’s where we cried when they announced they were getting separated. And even though I know it’s important that we talk about today, I’m avoiding that stupid table at all costs. I can’t do this with Mom here. It’s easier when it’s just Dad.

“Lulu,” Dad says at the same time Mom mutters, “Virginia.”

“Virginia,” Dad corrects himself as Mom adds, “Lulu,” and then they both look at each other and laugh.

There’s a little voice inside my head that tells me it’s funny, that I should laugh with them, but all I can think about is the fact that Mom called me Lulu. That means this is serious. There’s definitely no way I’m sitting at that table now.

“The showers weren’t working today after PE.” Truth. “I need to shower before I can do anything.” Lie.

Dad sighs. “Lulu,” he says again.

Turning, I face them while walking backward toward the stairs. “I’m serious! Don’t worry. I’m already working with the student council on what we can do to make sure the showers get fixed quickly.” And then, before they can try and force me to the table, I run upstairs.

I swear, I hardly get the door closed before it’s getting shoved open again. Mom. She pushes way more than Dad does. If she wasn’t here, he would have waited downstairs for me.

“Mom! This is my room. You can’t just come in.” The whininess in my voice is annoying, but I’m hoping it will do the trick.

I fall to my bed, and she keeps coming. She has a sad smile on her face that I hate to see there. I love it when she’s happy. I used to want to be just like her.

Mom pushes a lock of her honey-brown hair behind her ear and sits beside me. Before I know it, Dad is here with her.

“I am so sorry, Virginia.” Her arm raises and she does the same thing with my matching hair that she just did with her own. It makes tears spring to my eyes but I hold them back before they can slip free.

The urge to stick my fingers into my ears and start humming hits me. If I can’t hear what she has to say, then I can pretend it’s not true. I can pretend I have normal parents who get separated and hate each other, instead of a mom who isn’t always my mom.

“I’ve been…going through some things lately. I’m still seeing my psychiatrist, but…” Mom’s words trail off.

Thank you. Don’t say them. Go home and let me go sit in Dad’s office with him. We can talk statistics and rules because those things clear both our heads.

“Go on, Charity.” Dad grabs her hand, and suddenly anger teases me, burned edges on a piece of paper. Why does he want to hear this? Why is he making her tell me? How can he be so understanding when I can’t?

Mom takes a deep breath, her eyes flooded pools. “You know I worked really hard with my doctor for a long time.”

Crossing my arms, I speak. “Just say it, Mom.” The sooner she does, the sooner I can try to forget it.

“There’s a new personality. It doesn’t seem to be very bad, and unlike the others, she accepts who I am. She knows I’m your mom, and we have no doubt that we can integrate her as well.”

New personality, new personality, new personality.
How many people can say their mom used to have more than one person living inside them? That besides being Charity the mom and the author, she also used to be Robin the rebellious teenage girl who wanted to be my friend, and Samantha the person who hated me?

When I was in the third grade, girls at my school were picking on me. They called me names and made me cry, and the only person I wanted was my mom. I ran into the house when I got off the school bus and wrapped my arms around her legs. I was surprised when she didn’t hold me back so I looked up at her through a blur.

“Mommy?” I’d said.

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. It’s you again.”

That was when I knew I would never be able to depend on her. That was when I decided I wouldn’t depend on anyone.

It wasn’t her fault, I got that, but I was the one who felt my heart breaking apart. I was the only one who could fix it too. So I had. Just like I will now.

“Who is it?” I ask, not letting my emotions weigh me down.

Another sigh from Mom. “Her name is Amelia. She’s not like Samantha. She loves you. We came close to some…revelations in therapy. That’s when Amelia showed up. I’m going to do everything I can to fix this. We’ll do what we can to integrate so this won’t happen again.”

Amelia loves me so much she embarrassed me in front of half the school? No thank you. I don’t tell them how I feel, though. I listen while Mom talks about therapy. Dad’s there to support her, and her psychiatrist is hopeful. They go on and on, but their voices just get farther and farther away.

Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t she just be my mom?

I snap out of it when Mom says, “They’re blank. You’re not writing?” She fingers one of the journals beside my bed.

Mom is obviously big on writing since it’s what she does for a living, but she’s always pushing it on me as well.
Writing your feelings is therapeutic
and
you’re so talented, Virginia.
I don’t want to be talented. Sylvia Plath was talented, as was Virginia Woolf. Just like Mom is. Writing is the last thing I want to do.

It sets my insides aflame again. It makes no sense that she thinks I would want to be like her and Grandma. Why would I want to embrace that creative side she’s always saying is so important when I’ve seen what it’s done?

I don’t want to be like the writers Mom loves. I don’t want to abandon my daughter and then end my life like Grandma did. I don’t want to not be myself like the famous Charity Nichols.

“I have to go.” Standing, I grab my keys from the bedside table.

“Lulu.” Dad reaches for me but Mom grabs his arm.

“Let her go, Dave.”

He nods, and I leave. The whole time I’m driving, I fight back tears. I drive out of town, until I realize I’m in Henderson. It’s not the safest place but I don’t care.

The sound of the ocean flows through my lowered window. Water isn’t really my favorite thing but still I pull over. It’s so big out here, it’s easy to get lost. To pretend things aren’t going to fall apart again.

CHAPTER FOUR

~Ryder~

It’s not long after Drea and I stop making out that a few more people we know show up. They’re pretty cool, and they have beer with them, which everyone is stoked about.

Shane doesn’t drink. It’s not his thing, but I can tell by his jittery movements that he’s excited to have a few more people to chill with us. It’s not hard to tell when Shane is pumped about something because he can’t stop moving around. If we weren’t at the beach, he’d be riding his skateboard. He kicks ass on that thing.

Glancing over at Cody, I see him move the backpack he always has with him. It’s no doubt full of spray paint. He paints some pretty badass pictures in all sorts of places where he’s not supposed to. He must be ready to go find a place to paint.

Everyone talks and laughs and I try to join in. I’m as down for a good time as the next guy, but tonight, I’m just not feeling it.

He left us, Ry…

He doesn’t deserve your loyalty…

He’s a criminal, and not because he loved us so much he wanted to take care of us, but because he loved stealing more than he did us.

Screw Luke for putting shit like that in my head. Dad and me were like partners. Dad wanted me around.

Pushing to my feet, I dust sand the sand off. “I’m going for a walk.”

Drea looks up at me, her eyes searching for something. “Want me to go with you?”

“Nah, it’s cool.” I ruffle her hair and she laughs. She’s the only girl I could imagine doing something like that with—and she needs this, the closeness our group provides, because she sure as shit doesn’t get it at home. “Give these guys hell while I’m gone.” I nod toward all the bodies sitting around the fire and she turns her attention back to them.

I walk for what feels like forever, until I can’t see the glow of the fire in the distance or hear the laughter of my friends. There’s an old dock up ahead. It’s blocked off by poles, metal, and signs because it’s falling apart. It’s from when smaller boats used to come to this stretch of beach, but it hasn’t been used in forever.

Deciding this is as good a place as any, I sit on the sand, nothing but black ocean in front of me. Is Dad somewhere by the sea? He used to love it. Before Luke decided he was too good for us, Dad used to take us to the ocean all the time.

Movement by the water catches my eyes. There’s a flash of white, a shirt I guess, as someone stands and looks toward the dock.

The person looks little, and I’m pretty sure it’s a girl. She doesn’t stay in the same spot for very long before she starts moving for the dock, using her phone for a flashlight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper to myself as I watch her.

She pauses for a second before she starts to climb through the open spaces on the cheap “wall” they put up. Then, she gets onto the old wood. Before I realize what I’m doing, I push to my feet.

She crawls under some extra ropes they have there for protection. “Hey!” I call out but she keeps going. It’s hard to tell from this far, but it looks like the water is licking at the platform of the dock each time another wave comes in.

This twitchy feeling lands in my chest. I’m not sure what it is, but then my feet automatically start moving forward; first slow, and then faster, toward her. “Hey! What are you doing?” I yell again. As soon as the words leave my lips, she looks my way then screams as her arms fly up.

I’m running now even though I can’t tell what’s going on. I see her sink lower and scream again right before another wave rolls in, this one splashing over her.

“Holy shit.” I’m not a real track-star kind of guy, but I can push my ass when I need to. Another wave comes up, slamming into her. The closer I get I can tell she’s trying to scramble up, but something’s stopping her.

Another wave hits as I skid to a stop in front of the dock. Like she did, I push my way through the barrier. I think her foot went through the wood, and she’s stuck. She looks older than I originally thought. Closer to my age, but she has a small frame.

I grab the dock and pull myself up.

“The wood is weak…” she warns. And I’m bigger than she is… I get what she’s saying. Her voice is shaky as hell.

“No shit.” My legs tremble a little as I ease toward her. Water pools at my ankles.
Don’t fucking break. Please don’t collapse.

“Be careful,” she says.

It only takes me a few steps to reach her. The wood bends beneath my feet as I lean forward to grab her. “Are you cut or anything?”

The light from her phone shines on her as she shakes her head. The first thing I notice is how wide and green her eyes are, and stupidly, I wonder if they’re always that big or just because she’s scared to death.

“Put your arms around my neck.” She does. I wrap mine around her and pull her out. She’s shivering and soaking wet. “You’re cool. I got you.” The words come out automatically, when I really want to ask her what the hell she was thinking.

I manage to get her free, just as more water comes in. I’m wet from the knees down. The wood bows with each step I take, old screws and bolts giving way. My heart is going crazy, a wild drumbeat.

The second I step into the sand, far enough away that the water doesn’t touch us, I let out a deep breath and set her down.

And then I’m pissed. “What the fuck was that? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

The moon is bright tonight, shining down on her. The fear in her eyes warps into something else. Anger, maybe? “What? No! I would never do that. I just…” She looks down. “I just wanted to go out there…”

“And the fact that it was closed off didn’t clue you in that it’s not safe?”

“Maybe that was the point,” she mumbles, whatever that means.

“So you weren’t trying to kill yourself, but the fact that it wasn’t safe was your point? What are you, some kind of adrenaline junkie?” Yeah, right. Totally doesn’t fit, but whatever her reason, maybe next time she should look for her high where she doesn’t chance someone stumbling upon her and risking themselves.

“Yeah, obviously. That’s me, Lulu the adrenaline junkie. Next time, I’m jumping out of a plane. Do you want to come along?”

I cross my arms, amused for some reason. “You’re not very grateful to someone who just saved your life.” My eyes travel down on autopilot. “Your shirt’s wet. Nice bra.”

Her eyes go big again, and I can tell I’ve scandalized her. This girl definitely isn’t looking for some kind of high. She’s not from around here, either.

Arms on her chest, she whips around. I don’t need to see her face to know she’s embarrassed. What’s the big deal? It’s just a bra. No different than a bikini top. I can’t imagine Drea or any of the girls I know freaking out over that. The urge to laugh hits me, but the shake of her shoulders stops me.

Is she crying?

Fuck.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just saved your life. Here…” And then, before I know what I’m doing, I’m pulling my hoodie off and handing it to her. She turns just enough to see it. She grabs the sweatshirt before jerking it over her head.

It drowns her as she turns to me again; her face nothing but those big, green eyes that are now tinted red. Her whole body is trembling, her long, light-brown hair soaking. One look at her tells me she’s a rich kid. It’s obvious by her clothes and the way she holds herself.

This is the kind of girl Dad would latch on to. The kind he would trick into giving him what he wanted. She looks like a raccoon, with make-up around her eyes but somehow I know she’s the kind of girl with a whole group of rich-kid friends. Straight A’s, student council president, or whatever it’s called…but there’s something else there, too. Tonight, I think she might be the loneliest girl in the world.