Just One of the Boys

The flight home seemed to take hours. I was trapped in a first class seat, watching the world move around me as I sat solitary in comfort when I deserved to be trapped in the cargo hold. People were whispering, pointing and staring as cameras flashed from all angles. I was the entertainment, someone’s sick form of enjoyment. I spent six hours curled up against the window, glaring out at the clouds and land that floated past below. Behind me, Zack was waking up alone, Claudia was lying in her bed crying, and Alex was getting ready to be crushed. And all because of me.

When the plane landed, I hightailed it off the metal trap and back in the spotlight of LAX, keeping my head down and my arms crossed firmly over my chest. The paparazzi moved in throngs, the lights of their cameras blinding me. But still, I shoved my way to baggage claim, grabbed my lone duffel bag that I had brought with me to Hamilton, and stepped out into the fading sunlight.

Standing alone on the sidewalk with paparazzi surrounding me, I did the only think I could think of; I called my mother.

She arrived twenty minutes later, pulling up in a black SUV. Jumping up from my position on a wooden bench before she could even reach to unbuckle her seatbelt, I grabbed my bags and ran to the car, glad that the cameras had disappeared a while ago once they realized I wasn’t going to be doing anything interesting.

Clambering into the front seat, I slammed the door and slouched back against my seat, scowling. She pressed her foot against the pedal, speeding out of the airport and onto the highway.

“Hi, honey!” she cooed, turning to look at me as we sped down the highway. “I’ve missed you! How was your flight?” In response, I turned on the radio and quickly switching from station to station with ease. I could see her shift uncomfortably in her seat as she watched me carefully. “Sweetie, is everything okay?”

“Tired,” I grunted.

“So tell me about your job,” she chirped, brushing a lock of dark hair back from her mouth.

Pulling a face, I turned to sneer at her. Her dark curls that matched mine perfectly fell over her shoulders, while her pale skin took on new meaning in the moonlight.

Emma Williams was famous for many things; her acting, her charm, her husband, her beauty, and many more. She was America’s favorite star, and Hollywood’s pride and joy.
Too bad she wasn’t famous for being mother of the year.

“Honestly?” I scoffed, turning away from her as I blasted the radio. She frowned, and reached for the dial to turn down the music.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Holly?”

“Nothing, mom, just keep driving. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” I shrugged.

“Honey, did something happen over the summer?” She turned and looked at me, forcing me to look into the eyes we shared.

“Just drop it, mom,” I hissed, turning the station once more.

“I don’t want to close my eyes, I don’t want to fall alsee—”

“NO! No, no, no, no, NO!” I shrieked, turning the power off with as much forces as I could possibly muster. Slamming my hands against the dashboard, I repeated the words over and over as tears burned rivers down my face. That song—our song—reminded me of nothing but him, of what I did, of how I hurt him.

“Holly! Holly, what’s the matter?” My mother pulled off on an exit, turning into an abandoned parking lot the moment she had the chance. “Holly!”

“I can’t believe I did that!” I wailed, burrowing my face in my hands. “What have I done?”

“What are you talking about, Holly? Honey, what is going on?” My mother was frantic, trying to get me to confess what it was that was currently causing her daughter to be reduced to sobs in her front seat.

Without even meaning to, I melted. Confessing everything that I had done, I spoke through sputters of sobs and gut wrenching hiccoughs. The words were torn from me mercilessly; I was unable to stop once I began. Everything that happened that summer, everything that went on, I spilled. And my mother—she just sat there in horror, watching me as though I was a stranger she happened to come across.

“Oh my god,” she murmured the moment my words ended. “What have you done? Do you have any idea what could have happened if that leak? The trouble you could have gotten into? Do you not have a brain? Where is your common sense?”

“Mom—”

“I thought I had raised you better than this! I thought I had taught you how to—”

“You didn’t raise me!” I shouted, my anger flaring up. “You never taught me anything! You let nannies, dad, teachers, anyone other than yourself raise me! Ever since dad died—”

“Don’t you dare bring your father into this, young lady,” my mother snarled. “You are grounded until Christmas, do you hear me?”

“Oh please,” I scoffed. “How much longer till you jet set off to another movie set, huh mom? Or better yet, how much longer until you ship me back off to Fairgroves? Your words mean shit to me, mom.”

“Don’t you use that tone with me! Holly, do you have any idea what kind of damage you could have done? And this—this Alex boy, how you do you know he’s going to keep everything a secret? Your future is now in the hands of three scorned teenagers who would most likely want nothing more than to see you fall!” She paused and caught her breath, glaring at the outside world. “I can’t even imagine what could have possibly convinced you that what you were doing was a good idea!”

“Sure, mom, play innocent! Just wash yourself of all blame and force it onto me!”

“How can you blame me for your stupidity? For that’s what this was: stupidity! Was it for attention? Did you feel the need to act out for my attention?”

“MOM! Did you ever think for once that maybe I just needed to be normal? To have people that cared about me because they didn’t know who I was? To be able to connect with kids my age whose parents shipped them out as well? At Hamilton, I was accepted!” How could she not see what she was doing—how she had forced me to do what I did?

“You are acting insane! That’s it Holly, I’m sending you back to Dr. Leonard. Obviously this is a reaction from your father’s—”

“YOU DON’T GET IT! IT’S YOU, MOM! IT’S YOU! YOU’RE THE REASON!”

She was speechless, her jaw dropped and eyes wide. I don’t remember the last time I had ever raised my voice to my mother, probably because I had never seen her.

“You’re the reason why I’m so screwed up! I needed you—I need you—and you’re never here! You’re always gone, always off with your fucking movies and your fucking Hollywood! I can never escape that stupid city because, God mom, you branded me with it! It’s always been Hollywood over me, and I can’t take it! I can’t take losing my dad and my mom! When are you going to realize that I’m right here, suffering alone, while you got to have lived the life I’ll never lead?”

“Holly—”

“DON’T INTERRUPT! For seven years I have dealt with not having a dad, but to also lose my mom at the same time? I can only take so much! You got to have a normal life when you were younger, why can’t I? You’ve stolen my childhood, my life, EVERYTHING! And I hate you for it! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Wailing, I buried my head in my hands and let everything I had felt escape. It was like a weight had been lifted from my back, I was finally free of the baggage I was forced to cart around for seven years.

“Oh honey…”

I was in shock to hear my mother—my invincible mother—speak through sniffles and watery eyes. She was actually crying.

“I never meant for you to feel that way,” she whispered, trying to place her hand on my shoulder. I shook it off, curling up against the window. “I never meant for that at all.”

“Please, mom, you got rid of me the moment dad died,” I snarled. “You just got rid of me! You shipped me off to Fairgrove’s the moment you could! I mean, you had the luxury of getting out of the house, going on movies sets! I lost you and dad, at the same time!”

“Honey, you have to understand that that was a horrible time for me,” she tried to explain. “I know there’s no excuse, but sweetie, I was so depressed after your father died that I didn’t even know if I was going to make it through the day. Your father was my best friend, the love my life, part of my world! He was ripped away from me so suddenly, I…I couldn’t even say goodbye!” She dropped her head against the steering wheel, crying just as hard as I had only moments before.

She cried for what seemed like hours, her shaky breaths and soft hiccoughs the only noise. However, they fell upon deaf ears as I sat stony in the front seat with my arms crossed. When she was done, she turned back to me and wiped her eyes dry, sniffling.

“I had to push you away, sweetie, because you were having such a tough time. I can’t even fathom what you were going through, being there and seeing him…I thought that I had to stay strong for you, not to cry in front of you or to show you how much I was hurting. You used to wake up every night screaming, and I used to run to your room every time, praying that I wouldn’t cry in front of you. I needed to be your pillar of strength, and knowing that got me through it. Only now…now I realize that I wasn’t, I was anything but. I probably made everything worse, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I huffed. “You did. You made it tons worse, because every night when I had those nightmares, I thought there was something wrong with me! I thought I was wrong to still miss him, to cry, to pray for him to come back! I thought I was doing something wrong!”

“Oh, Holly,” she choked. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m such an awful mother!”

She reached out to touch my arm, and I once again moved away from her touch. “Holly, please, let me make it up to, let me make up everything! Honey, please, just understand how much it hurts me to know that I did that to you, that you doubted yourself like that. I love you, sweetie, and I wish you could see how much I miss you every day you’re not here.”

“You can’t give me back seven years of my life,” I sniffed. “Nor can you ever make that up to me. I just want to go home, if I can even call it that.”

Turning my back to her, I stared out of the window with blind eyes, sitting patiently for the car to start leading us home.

[&cut]

Fog, lots and lots of fog, drowned my vision as I ran, my lungs and legs burning from the pain. He was there, just before me, I needed to get to him before he was gone. His name dripped from my lips, melting into puddles for my feet to splash through, destroying what little remained of him.

He was just up ahead, right there; I could see his silhouette, see him standing only fifty feet before me. He was so close; my hand was outstretched, ready to touch his shoulder, ready to let him know I was here.

But the road grew longer, and he was moving ahead, moving away from me. Screams of anger filled the air as I picked up my pace, ignoring the pain and misery it was causing. I could make it, I could get there, I could—

The screech of tires, the scent of asphalt, and that beautiful feeling of flight knocked me from all sides as I skidded across a dirty pavement, my hands and knees scrapping raw. I started to cry, staring at the scarred flesh of my palms and legs. Glancing up, I checked to make sure he was still there, still in sight.

But no, there he was, gasping for breath before me. His hand reached out towards me as his eyes bulged out of his face, his breathing growing shallow. He croaked my name, the sound like sandpaper against metal.

I scrambled towards him, pressing against his chest in the attempt to get his heart to start back up again. I could feel it beating under my hands, could feel it grow weaker and weaker as the life slowly left him.

I refused to let him go, refused to let him disappear, but it was too late. His breathing stopped at the same time his heart did, and his eyes gently closed, blocking me from seeing his eyes once more.

I lifted my hands in horror, staring at the hands that once again felt his heart stop, felt him die, before staring back at him. My stomach dropped as I threw myself backwards, trying to get away from the body lying there.

Instead of seeing my dad lying there on the ground, I saw Alex, laying there with my handprints stained over his heart and my name dying as an accusation on his lips.

Raising my bloodstained hand to cover my mouth, I screamed and screamed and screamed, trying to tear the image from my mind. Alex, my dad, dead because of me. I screamed to forget them. I screamed to get away. I screamed to release myself from it all, I screamed for my pain, I screamed—

“Holly, wake up!” Hands pressed against my skin as I was lifted from my bed, cradled against someone’s chest and held tightly. I woke up, choking through sobs that rocked my entire body.

“Sweetie, it’s okay, everything’s okay,” she murmured, running a hand through my hair. “It’s not real, it was just a dream. Everything’s okay, it’s all okay. Mommy’s here, I’m here for you, I’m always going to be here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I clung to her, still sobbing. I needed her; I needed her to be there for me, to be my rock. I needed my mother, and I couldn’t afford to let her get away.

“I miss him,” I whispered, not even knowing who I was referring to, Alex or my dad.

“I know, honey, I know you do,” mom murmured. “I miss him too.”

“How did you get over it?”

“I never fully did,” she admitted. “I probably never will get over him, either. But, you, Holly, will get over this Alex, trust me.”

We sat together for the rest of the night, barely knowing how to talk to each other, how to let each other know that we forgave each other. Somehow, we managed, reminicing on our past and how simple it was to talk to each other, to hug and say we loved each other. As much I missed those days, missed my old family, I realized that I had to move on.

Yes, what had happened was awful, and there were probably worse things that will happen. I had to be strong, I had to move foreward, and I had to remember that life was about growing--about making mistakes and learning from them. We could get past this--I could get passed this, and I was going to.

Alex, Zack, Hamilton, and Henry were all in my past, broken memories and shattered loves. I had my future to look forward too, and I didn't need them catching up with me. When the sun rose that morning, my mother and I left my room for the kitchen, abandoning our baggage, ready to meet the new day with clean slates.

My life had just begun.