Page 2 of The Way I Used to Be
Caelin raises his head and narrows his eyes at me as I cautiously approach the dining room. He can see it. I knew he would see it right away. If anyone was going to notice—if I could count on anyone—it would be my big brother. “Okay, you’re being really weird and intense right now,” he announces. He could tell because he always knew me even better than I knew myself.
So I stand there and wait for him to do something about this. For him to set his fork down, stand up and pull me aside, take me out to the backyard by the arm, and demand to know what’s wrong with me, demand to know what happened. Then I’d tell him what Kevin did to me and he’d give me one of his big brother-isms, like,Don’t worry, Edy, I’ll take care of it.The way he did whenever anyone was picking on me. And then he’d run back inside the house and stab Kevin to death with his own butter knife.
But that’s not what happens.
What happens is he just sits there. Watching me. Then slowly his mouth contorts into one of his smirks—our inside-joke grin—waiting for me to reciprocate, to give him a sign, or just start laughing like maybe I’m trying to secretly make fun of our parents. He’s waiting to get it. But he doesn’t get it. So he just shrugs, looks back down at his plate, and lops off a big slice of pancake. The bullet lodges itself a little deeper in my stomach as I stand there, frozen in the hallway.
“Seriously, what are you staring at?” he mumbles with his mouth full of pancake, in that familiar brotherly, you’re-the-stupidest-person-on-the-face-of-the-earth tone he had perfected over the years.
Meanwhile, Kevin barely even glances up. No threatening looks. No gestures of warning, nothing. As if nothing had even happened. The same cool disregard he always used with me. Like I’m still just Caelin’s dorky little sister with bad hair and freckles, freshman band-geek nobody, tagging along behind them, clarinet case in tow. But I’m not her anymore. I don’t even want to be her anymore. That girl who was so naive and stupid—the kind of girl who could let something like this happen to her.
“Come on, Minnie,” Dad says to me, using my pet name. Minnie as in Mouse, because I was so quiet. He gestured at the food on the table. “Sit down. Everything’s getting cold.”
As I stand in front of them—their Mousegirl—crooked glasses sliding down the bridge of my nose, stripped before eight scrutinizing eyes waiting for me to play my part, I finally realize what it’s all been about. The previous fourteen years had merely been dress rehearsal, preparation for knowing how to properly shut up now. And Kevin had told me, with his lips almost touching mine he whispered the words:You’re gonna keep your mouth shut.Last night it was an order, a command, but today it’s just the truth.
I push my glasses up. And with a sickness in my stomach—something like stage fright—I move slowly, cautiously. Try to act like every part of my body, inside and out, isn’t throbbing and pulsing. I sit down in the seat next to Kevin like I had at countless family meals. Because we considered him part of our family, Mom was always saying it, over and over. He was always welcome. Always.
IT’S TOTALLY SILENT INthe house after breakfast. Caelin left with Kevin to go play basketball with some of their old teammates from high school. Dad needed some kind of special wrench from the hardware store to install the new showerhead he got Mom for Christmas. And Mom was in her room, busy addressing New Year’s cards.
I sit in the living room, staring out the window.
A row of multicolored Christmas lights lining the garage flicker spastically in the gray morning light. The clouds pile one on top of the other endlessly, the sky closing in on us. Next door, a mostly deflated giant Santa rocks back and forth in the center of our neighbors’ white lawn with a slow, sick, zombielike shuffle. It feels like that scene inThe Wizard of Ozwhen everything changes from black and white to color. Except it’s more like the other way around. Like I always thought things were in color, but they were really black and white. I can see that now.
“You feeling all right, Edy?” Mom suddenly appears in the room carrying a stack of envelopes in her hands.
I shrug in response, but I don’t think she even notices.
I watch a car roll through the stop sign at the corner, the driver barely glancing up to see if anyone’s there. I think about how they say when most people get into car accidents, it’s less than one mile from their home. Maybe that’s because everything’s so familiar, you stop paying attention. You don’t notice the one thing that’s different or wrong or off or dangerous. And I think about how maybe that’s what just happened to me.
“You know what I think?” she asks in that tone she’s been using on me ever since Caelin left for school over the summer. “I think you’re mad at your brother because he hasn’t spent enough time with you while he’s been home.” She doesn’t wait for me to tell her she’s wrong before she keeps talking. To tell her that it’s really her who’s mad that he hasn’t been home enough. “I know you want it to be just the two of you. Like it used to be. But he’s getting older—you’re both getting older—he’s in college now, Edy.”
“I know that—” I start to say, but she interrupts.
“It’s okay that he wants to see his friends while he’s home, you know.”
The truth is, none of us knows how to act around one another without Caelin here. It’s like we’ve become strangers all of a sudden. Caelin was the glue. He gave us purpose—a reason, a way to be together. Because what are we supposed to do with each other if we’re not cheering him on at his basketball games anymore? What are our kitchen table conversations supposed to sound like without him regaling us with his daily activities? I’m certainly no substitute; everyone knows that. What the hell do I have going on that could ever compare to the nonstop larger-than-life excitement that is Caelin McCrorey? At first I thought we were adjusting. But this is just how we are. Dad’s lost without another guy around. Mom doesn’t know what to do with herself without Caelin taking up all her time and attention. And me, I just need my best friend back. It’s simple, yet so complicated.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to branch out a bit either,” she continues, shuffling the stack of envelopes in her hands. “Make a couple of new friends. It’s officially the new year.” She smiles. I don’t. “Edy, you know I think Mara’s great—she’s been a great friend to you—but a person is allowed more than one friend in life is all I’m saying.”
I stand and walk past her into the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of water, just so I have something, anything, to focus on other than my mom, the pointlessness of this conversation, and the endless train wreck of thoughts crashing through my mind.
She stands next to me at the kitchen counter. I can feel her staring at the side of my face. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin. She reaches out to tuck my bangs behind my ear, like she always does. But I back away. Not on purpose. Or maybe it is. I’m not sure. I know I’ve hurt her feelings. I open my mouth to tell her I’m sorry, but what comes out instead is: “It’s too hot here. I’m going outside.”
“Oh-kay,” she says slowly, confused.
My feet quickly move away from her. I grab my coat off the hook near the back door, slide my boots on, and walk out to the backyard. I brush the snow off one of the wooden swing-set seats. I feel the bruises on my body swell against the cold wood and metal chains. I just want to sit still for a second, breathe, and try to figure out how things could have ever gotten to this point. Figure out what I’m supposed to do now.
I close my eyes tight, weave my fingers together—and though I know I don’t do it nearly as much as I probably should—I pray, pray harder than I’ve ever prayed in my life. To somehow undo this. To just wake up, and have it be this morning again, except this time nothing would have happened last night.
I remember sitting down at the table with him. We played Monopoly. It was nothing, though. Nothing seemed wrong. He was actually being nice to me. Acting like... he liked me. Acting like I was more than just Caelin’s little sister. Like I was a real person. A girl, not just a kid. I went to bed happy. I went to bed thinking of him. But the next thing I remember is waking up to him climbing on top of me, putting his hand over my mouth, whisperingshutupshutupshutup.And everything happening so fast. If it could all be a dream, just a dream that I could wake up from, then I would still be safe in my bed. That would make so much more sense. And nothing will be wrong. Nothing will be different. I’ll just be in my bed and nothing bad will ever have to happen there.
“Wake up,” I think I whisper out loud. God, just wake up. Wake up, Edy!
“Eden!” a voice calls.
My eyes snap open. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as I look around. Because I’m not in my bed. I’m in the backyard sitting on the swing, my bare fingers numb, curled tightly around the metal chains.
“What are you doing, splitting atoms over there?” my brother shouts from the back door. “I’ve been standing here calling your name a hundred times.”
