Forgetmenots and Second Thoughts

The house was still, and everything was quite. Wren awoke the next morning from the natural sunlight pouring on her through the window above the bed. She stirred slightly, last night’s events filling her head. Billie’s arm was still placed lazily over her shoulders and he was still sound asleep. His cheek was pressed up against his pillow, spots of drool dampening the area around his lips. Wren grinned slightly but had an uneasy feeling creeping through her. Her stomach churned and her head hurt. She had told Billie Joe everything. Spilt her guts to someone she barely knew.

Yet, she felt relieved, as though she finally had someone that she could trust and depend on when she needed someone to be there for her.

Billie finally moved and lifted his eyelids, revealing his brilliant green eyes. He yawned, and stretched, and the placed his eyes on Wren and smiled. “Morning.” He said to her quietly. “How are you feeling?” Wren shrugged, suddenly nervous to talk about it again. She knew that it would end up coming up eventually, but she was not ready for it so soon.

“I’m alright.” Wren said, and then fell silent. She sat up, Billie’s arm falling off of her. She pursed her lips and avoided his eye. She felt a new feeling of awkwardness around him. She felt like that they were getting too close too fast, that everything was blurry. He sat up and placed a hand on her bare knee.

“Hey...,” He said softly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to judge you or anything.” Wren knew that that was the least of her worries. Her eyes fell on the hand that was still on her knee. She wiggled it off and stood up beside the double bed. She began absentmindedly readjusting the floral bedding, pulling it back over the pillow she’d slept on. Billie Joe arched an eyebrow, clearly confused.

“Wren...,” He began slowly, “What are you doing?” He got up off the bed, and Wren continued to smooth out the comforter. He walked over to her side, scratching his head, his messy curls a rat’s nest, his eyes still droopy and tired, filled with sleep. His lips parted and stretched, releasing another yawn. He cocked his head and looked straight at her with a look of utter bewilderment; unsure of what he was doing that was so wrong. Wren finally glanced up at him, still avoiding his gaze, and quickly looked back down.

“I have to go. My mother is probably freaking out.” Wren finished with the bed and collected her own clothes, heading for the door. She excused herself, leaving Billie Joe alone in his sister’s room, a feeling of anxiety bubbling inside of him. She was right last night—he really did not understand.
Wren found the bathroom easier than she thought she would. It was small and quaint, and appropriately decorated. The walls and floor were both plastered with the same white tiles, most of them stained with age. A porcelain sink and toilet stood beside each other, opposite to a bathtub. A caramel coloured shower curtain hung open, and a murky grey shag floor carpet was placed in front of the tub. Wren quickly changed from Billie’s clothing back into her distressed denim capris and her purple scoop-neck tee shirt. It was still early morning, but she knew that as the day progressed, it would become warmer, perfect for the long walk she was about to endure.

Soon enough, Billie Joe had found his way downstairs, meeting up with Wren at the exact time she decided to wander out of the bathroom. Billie went to say something, but stopped as she turned in the opposite direction: the direction of the front door.

“Wren—wait. Please.” Wren slowed her pace and turned around. “Just stay for a little longer. Have some breakfast. Please.” Wren let out a heavy, audible sigh and, to Billie Joe’s delight, nodded. He led her in the direction of the kitchen. Wren immediately sat down at the table and draped her left leg over her right and placed her hands on her exposed knee. Billie Joe roamed through his cupboards searching for food, and finally grabbed a box of corn flakes. “You like these?” He asked her. Wren shrugged and bobbed her head.

Billie collected two bowls and two spoons and a carton of milk and sat next to her at the table. He poured some of the cereal into one of the bowls and passed it to her along with a spoon, then fixed himself the same. Wren dispensed some milk over her corn flakes and dipped her spoon in, taking a large amount and putting it in her mouth. She chewed silently, wondering what was to come next. It felt weird to be at someone else’s house, even if it was the weekend. Back in Delaware, though she had friends, this was a rare occurrence. She was never invited over or out anywhere by anyone.

The two ate and never spoke a word to each other. The silence was almost nauseating, and Wren felt terrible for acting the way she was after the way Billie had helped her, how nice he had been to her in her time of need. And now she was treating him like he was dead to her, and it was starting to pain her. She could see the hurt in his eyes, the way he was trying to make her comfortable and feel at home, yet she was still shooting him down. She took a deep breath and looked up at him, catching his eye. The corners of her lips curled upward into a small smile. “Thank you Billie.” She told him, “For everything. You are really great.” Billie swallowed some cereal and half-grinned.

“Hey, it’s not a problem,” He said sincerely. “I want you to know that I’m here. And I’m really glad you trust me.” Wren nodded, understanding. She really did trust him, and it felt good.

“But I really do have to go.” She said shyly, hiding her face again. She couldn’t help but blush every time she looked at him, and she was not sure why. Billie let out a little sigh and pushed out his chair and stood. He gathered Wren’s empty bowl and her spoon and brought the dishes to the sink.

“Right. Well, it’s a long walk, like I said last night. I can call a taxi for you, if you want.” Billie offered, but Wren immediately declined. A long walk would be perfect right now, something that would allow her to think about everything in private. Plus, it would give her time to herself before the wrath she would have to endure once she stepped foot into her house. With the air being warmer than the previous night, a long walk seemed to be a green light in Wren’s day. However, Billie Joe was not buying it.

“I can’t let you walk that far by yourself. I’ll come with you.” Billie told her. Wren’s eyes widened and she shook her head furiously.

“I’m not a child, Billie Joe. I can handle walking by myself.” Wren couldn’t believe the way he was beginning to treat her. She knew exactly why, and she was not going to stand for it. She inhaled deeply, attempting to calm herself down. “Just because it happened once, doesn’t mean it is going to happen every time I am by myself.” She threw her grey converse on her feet and laced them up as quickly as she could. She was trembling; she did not think she could become so angry so quick. Billie was hovering over her, trying to explain.

“Wren, I know. I’m just trying to help you.” Billie told her. Wren looked up at him and scrunched her eyebrows together in fury.

“I realize that Billie, but so much is happening at once and I need to breath.” She stood and reached for the cold, brass door knob. She twisted it and pulled, allowing the tepid morning air to escape into the house. “Just leave me alone for a while.” She spat, her words dripping in ice as she stepped outside and began walking down the wooden steps of the porch. Billie didn’t say a word but shook his head slowly, biting his lip.

Wren was not sure which way she was to go, nor did she care. The longer it took to get home the better it was for her. She had so much on her mind that she would need all the time in the world to sort through it all. It was as though her brain was a busy office, and all of the files were exploding with different articles. She was not sure what to think anymore; everything was all happening at once. When she moved to California, she never imagined having to go through half of what she already had. She felt like she’d grown so much as a person already, matured.

She still could not believe that her secret was out in the open. Billie could let it slip and she could be the highlight of the school’s gossip come Monday morning. But she knew in the back of her head that Billie would never to that to her. He just couldn’t.

And the different ways Billie had been treating her for the past two days. He had gone from a caring, genuine shoulder to cry on to an over-protective father-type figure, and Wren could not stand it. She had never met her own father; her mother told her way back when she was little that he had died long before she knew she was expecting her. She had gotten by just fine without one her entire life, and did not need one breathing down her neck now.

Maybe that was why Wren despised Charlie so much. Other than the fact that he had take n advantage of her and raped her that one, terribly disgusting night, he was an older male that she lived with and that her own mother seemed to like. Any time Ingrid would bring up Charlie, Wren could see hearts forming in the pupils of her eyes; her cheeks flush a rosy red. It sickened Wren to the core; just the thought made her already-woozy stomach churn even more.

And then there was John, whom she had thought was the nicest person she had ever met when she first attended Pinole Valley. Along with his good looks, he had been the only one who actually wanted to take the time to get to know her. Yet, he had used her and threw her away. He turned out to be a complete scumbag.

At that moment, Wren couldn’t help but wonder what life was really about. Why she was even living, why everything had to be so complicated. She started to feel really low, but knew to keep her head held high. Soon, she’d be out of this hellhole. Soon, she’d be turning of age to move away and never look back—to start over new.

++

Wren was not sure how long she had been walking for when she finally reached the familiar site of the peak of the long driveway that led up to her home. She closed her deep blue eyes and took a long, deep breath in and continued to walk up the path. She was very shocked to see that her mother was not awaiting her reappearance at the front door, and she was very glad. She reached the front door, expecting the absolute worse when she opened the door.

Stepping through into the house, she politely unlaced her shoes and placed them neatly with the rest of them and quietly tiptoed down the long hallway, hoping and praying not to be seen or heard. Of course, this was not possible.

“Brenna. Where have you been?” She heard Ingrid beckon from inside the living room. Wren knew she was angry just by the name she had chosen to use. No one called her Brenna, not even Ingrid. Wren turned and walked through the white archway that led into the living room to see her mother and Charlie sitting side by side on the couch. The necklace Ingrid had shown Wren the day before was still dangling from her neck, and she was wearing it proudly.

“I met up with a friend after school yesterday.” She explained to her mother slowly, her voice shaking nervously. “We hung out and I slept over. It’s not a big deal, Ingrid.” Ingrid’s lips were pursed, forming a thin line, as they usually did. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and she was wearing a pair of slacks and a white cardigan. Wren’s eyes moved from her mother’s gaze over to Charlie. He gave her a sly grin, and Wren looked away.

Wren was expecting her mother to throw a fit as she normally would, but something was different about her. All she did was nod and look at Charlie, as if expecting him to say something. She nudged him and he spoke up.

“You should call next time.” He said in a friendly tone. Wren’s tiny hands squeezed together into balls. She held them at her sides and attempted to swallow her anger.

“I will do what I want to.” She said in a tone that she’d never used in front of her mother before, and she said it with confidence. His face immediately fell, his smile turning into a scowl.

“Did you really just speak to me like that?” He asked her, raising an eyebrow irately. Wren’s lips twisted into a sarcastic smile and she grinned.

“I did.” She simply put. “Screw both of you. I’m leaving for a while, and I’ll come back when I feel like it.” She spat. She turned around and raised a hand and flipped them both off, before walking to the front entrance, throwing on her converse and walking out of the house, being sure to slam the door behinds her.

She could hear her mother shrieking while she walked back down the long driveway. Wren was not sure where she was going to go, and she didn’t care.

She was changing, and she liked it.