The Locket

“Most definitely,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze.

Nature was showing off the first hint of autumn. Orange and red peeked out from the stark green canvas as we made our way over the country New England roads. Driving here was so different than I remember in California. Lacking in direct routes, it was all country roads in the backwoods. The robotic woman’s voice shouted directions at us from the GPS every so often. It made the two of us chuckle when she said the names phonetically, based on spelling, but not how those of us in Massachusetts had grown used to hearing them. I laughed quietly, wondering if there was a setting on the GPS with a Boston accent.

We must have bored Reese to death because he was now slumped against the seat in back snoring, with his ear buds still solidly in place. Brent turned down the radio and we began a quiet conversation.

We talked about school a little. I teased him about Layken’s crush on him but he was unaffected – he already knew. I marveled at that. He could have a girl like Layken and he chose me. He told me I was the only one for him and brushed his thumb over my knuckles, smiling when I blushed. He didn’t know that Brooke had a thing for Reese but said Reese had told him awhile back she was always flirting with him.

Secretly, I was thrilled with that knowledge because, maybe that meant Reese could find someone to move on with. I knew this was hard for him; a loss of sorts. It made me miserable to think about it, so I shifted in my seat and changed the subject, asking Brent about how he was able to stay so close to me over the years. Brent explained his family had stayed in Massachusetts because he had siblings. His grandpa took on the challenge of keeping him close to me. His family told his brothers and sisters that he was in fact at boarding school, following our family every time we relocated somewhere.

We exchanged funny stories about other kids we had both known. Brent had also avoided getting too close to anyone. As often as we moved, he didn’t want to have any attachments, which I related to. I wondered which was worse, growing up without knowing anything, thinking your parents just might be crazy, or knowing everything and not having a choice. For the first time, I really thought about this. Did the two of them resent me? Anxiety was waging a battle in my head again. I rolled down the window needing some fresh air.

“Are you okay, Claire?” Brent asked, stroking my knee.

“You must have been angry at some point, right? When you were forced to leave your family?” I asked.

He removed his hand from my knee and gripped the steering wheel tightly, but didn’t answer me.

Oh, my God. I felt sick. This man that I cared so deeply for had surely hated me at some point in his life, being told that he would leave his family, or worse, die if it protected me in some way. It was so unfair. How could he not have? I would have. Tears overflowed from my eyes and I was helpless to stop them. Brent turned the wheel sharply and pulled to the side of the road. He started to speak and I was taken aback. He sounded angry.

“Stop it Claire, stop it right now,” he scorned.

His harsh tone made it so much worse and the tears flowed faster. I furiously tried to wipe them from my cheeks, but they just kept coming.

“Oh Jesus, Claire. Look, I’m sorry,” he pleaded and I heard a groan deep in his throat that vibrated through my chest. He fisted his hands into his hair before turning to face me. He pulled my face to his, holding it there, his warm breath lingering on my skin. “Claire, I love you. Please don’t cry.”

He said he loved you.

The word should have thrilled me but I was terrified. Was I capable of loving someone like that? I suddenly felt conflicted. I wanted this, yet, now that it was real, it was completely freaking me out. I would leave him eventually because that’s what I did. It was all I ever knew, not to get close to anyone

so I could leave with my heart intact. I took a few deep calming breaths to rein in my tears.

“Good girl,” Brent praised, brushing his hands down the side of my head, pressing firmly along my jaw. He stared deep into my eyes. “Was there a time when I wanted to hate you and I was angry? Yes, there was…but I couldn’t do it. I spent too much time with you, watching you purse that silly lip or twirl your hair. Witnessing your kindness, even when it came to someone being mean to you, it never mattered. You were still kind.”

He noted my hesitation as I shook my head trying to release his grasp. “You remember that girl, Melanie, about two years ago, the one who tripped you, among other things?”

I nodded yes and he released my head.

She had been a grade ahead of me and looked like a giant standing next to me. Every day had been a struggle to avoid her, hiding around corners or behind a tree until she passed. She didn’t like me, making it a point to tell me whenever she could. She would trip me or pull my hair and then just walk away laughing. Once, she even blocked me from getting into the restroom for the entire break and I ended up being late for class. Even as horrible as she had been to me, I always felt bad for her. She had been dirty and often worn the same clothes for days. I remembered thinking she must of had a terrible home life if bullying me, at half her size, made her feel better. I couldn’t bring myself to turn her in. I was afraid that whatever awaited her at home would be worse than what she had been dishing out.

“I saw you,” Brent informed. “Melanie would come to school without lunch. You would wait until the hall cleared and slip your lunch money in her locker, including a note that said eat, and then you would sit in the cafeteria eating an apple or whatever small thing your mother packed you for a snack.”

I looked down at my lap and tugged at the zipper on my sweatshirt, sliding it up and down, nervously, remembering her so well.

“She was poor Brent, really poor,” I cried.

She caught me one day when I had been slipping the money in her locker. Her surprised expression had shocked both of us. I remembered her crying on my shoulder apologizing to me. Her parents had been awful to her. They abused her, and her little brother, starving them and not providing the necessities children required. We had cried together for hours before I finally talked her into going to the guidance counselor. How could her parents have acted this way to her? Their own daughter! I knew my parents were crazy but they loved me and would never have harmed and neglected me. As it turned out, she had an aunt that knew something was going on, and wanted to take the kids away, but the kids would never admit what was happening so she had to leave them with their neglectful parents. Melanie and her brother had left to stay with her once the school became involved. She emailed me last spring to tell me she was well and was going to college this fall. I had been really happy for her and for myself for seeing past her actions to what was in her heart. I had helped her help herself that day and it felt so good.

“Yes and she was also really mean to you. You were afraid of her. I felt it. Yet, it didn’t matter, you were kind. I put aside any anger I had, and embraced my fate in that moment, on that day. I knew then and there, that’s why you were chosen for this, and any resentment I had washed away with one giant wave of your kindness.”

Reese kicked up a fuss, shouting. “Christ, Brent, you fell in love with Claire way back then.”

“It’s not like that, Reese,” I huffed.

An array of emotions flashed across Brent’s face. Pain, confusion, shame, and finally defeat.

“It’s all right, Claire. Reese is right. I did fall in love with you then. I knew it was wrong, but I was completely infatuated with you from that day on. I tried to keep my distance. Summer brought us back here and I stayed close but didn’t engage you at all. The Couriers came for you the morning we met, filling me with panic and I knew I couldn’t stay away from you for one more minute. I didn’t care what might change or what the consequences were. I tried to get you to help me with school just so I could be near you. I came to see you that night, wanting to tell you everything about who you were, and I how I felt. Maggie saw me and came outside. She would have none of it. After I got home and spoke with my family, I knew that I had to let it go. It wasn’t our design and not meant to be. I tried really hard. You didn’t make it easy, by the way.”

“No, I guess I didn’t,” I replied nodding shyly, understanding now why Maggie was scolding him that day.