Briar
Ipace around Blake’s bedroom, my nerves going crazy.
I stare at my mom’s number in my contacts. I haven’t spoken to her or my dad since we argued at brunch weeks ago, and they stormed out of the house.
I haven’t wanted to reach out to them. I’m still really hurt. But I hate this quiet, strained standoff between my parents.
And I hate that, when I found out that I got that internship in Mexico City, I didn’t feel like I could tell them about it because we’re in the middle of this silent, painful standoff.
I’m sick of it. I’m sick of fighting with my parents.
My chest aches. I hate that I can’t share good news with them because things between us are so strained.
I breathe through the tightness. If I want things to change between us, I need to tell them the truth about why I left Chicago. I need to tell them what really happened between Logan and me.
The urge to toss my phone on the bed and walk out of the room courses through me. Maybe it won’t change how they feel. Maybe they’ll still be upset.
Just thinking about them reacting that way makes me sick to my stomach.
But I can’t worry about that right now. What I need to do is be honest with them.
I finally tap my phone screen. I count the seconds and hold my breath waiting for my mom to answer.
“Briar.” She sounds so surprised when she answers. “Is everything alright?”
I ache at the concern in her voice.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I just…Is Dad there?”
“Yeah, he’s sitting next to me on the couch. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’d like to talk to you both. Can you put your phone on speaker?”
“Okay.” Uncertainty laces her tone. “You’re on speaker.”
“You know how I said I left Chicago because of my breakup with Logan?”
They both say yes.
“That was a very sanitized version of what happened. We broke because one night he tried to force himself on me.”
“Oh my gosh,” my mom says. I hear my dad exhale sharply.
“That bastard,” he mutters.
“Did he hurt you?” My mom’s voice trembles.
Tears prick my eyes. “A little, but I fought him off. I got away.” I sniffle.
“I broke up with him right then and there. But he was so mad, and he took it out on me. He started an awful rumor about me. He told his teammates and our mutual friends that I was just using him to get to the rest of the team so I could sleep with all the guys.”
Tears tumble down my cheeks.
“Oh, honey,” my mom says in a watery voice. She’s crying.
“It was all lies,” I say.
“We know that, Briar,” my dad says in a gentle voice. “We know you wouldn’t do that.”
“I really cared about Logan, and I was so blindsided when he became so aggressive and hateful to me. All my friends turned on me because of the lies he told. Total strangers were harassing me on campus, calling me awful names. I had to get out of there. That’s why I left and transferred to Hollis.”
They’re quiet for a long moment.
“Briar honey, why didn’t you tell us this?” my dad asks.
“Because I hated thinking about it. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to move on with my life and never think about him again.” My throat aches. “And I…I was scared you guys would think I was stupid for getting myself into a situation like that.”
“Oh, honey,” my mom says.
I let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes on my sleeves. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You were already so upset that I transferred schools. I didn’t want to make you even more upset by telling you the real reason for it.”
“Briar honey, listen to me. If we had known the real reason why you transferred—if we knew what Logan did to you—we wouldn’t have been upset.
We just…” My mom’s voice starts to tremble.
“We just want the best for you.” She’s quiet for a long moment.
“But maybe we shouldn’t have come down on you so hard in the first place.
We should have known that you must have been going through something terrible for you to suddenly leave school like that. ”
“It was just so out of character, honey,” my dad says. “We were shocked and upset. And when you didn’t want to talk about it, we didn’t know what to do. So I suppose that’s why we reacted so harshly.”
I’m quiet as I think about everything they’re saying. It was all such a mess. A mix of me being scared to disappoint my parents and them misunderstanding my closed-off behavior when I transferred.
“We’re sorry, honey,” my dad says. “We shouldn’t have reacted the way we did, regardless of the reason. We should have just supported you.”
I grab a tissue from Blake’s desk and wipe my face. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for not telling you the whole story behind why I left Chicago.”
“Is Logan still harassing you?” Dad asks.
“No. I’ve blocked him everywhere.” I hesitate for a second. “He sent me a hurtful message right before his hockey team played Blake’s hockey team recently. But Blake took care of him for that. Logan won’t ever bother me again.”
“I see.” Understanding laces my dad’s serious tone.
My parents don’t pay attention to sports, so I’m sure they haven’t seen the news of Blake’s fight with Logan online or on sports news. They don’t need to know the graphic details of that brawl.
“Blake’s a fine young man,” my dad says.
“He really is,” my mom says. “I don’t know if this is a weird time to bring it up, but the way he stood up for you that day at brunch was impressive. I could tell how protective he was of you. And even though we were fighting in that moment, I was touched to see him look after my little girl.”
That warm feeling burrows deeper into my chest. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Please don’t hide from us like this, honey,” Dad says. “No matter how hard or awful something is, please tell us. I swear, we won’t react the way we did when you transferred to Hollis. We promise we won’t.”
“We’ll be better, honey. We swear it.”
I tuck my feet underneath my legs, feeling lighter.
I’m tired from crying, but the stress riddling my body is starting to fade.
It feels comforting to talk to my parents like this.
To work through this rough patch in our relationship and come out on the other side, forgiving each other and promising to be better.
“I promise,” I say. “And, um, I have some good news. I got an internship in Mexico City next spring. I’ll be teaching at an international school with one of my professors for two weeks. I know it’s not the same as studying abroad, but I’m excited about it.”
“Oh, honey, that’s fantastic!” Mom says.
“Wonderful job, Briar. We’re so proud of you.”
For the next few minutes, they ask me about my internship. I ask them how things are going at home. I promise to call them again in a few days.
Blake walks in a minute after I hang up. He takes one look at my puffy face and rushes over to me. He kneels in front of me and cups my face in his hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything’s good,” I say. “I just talked to my parents. I told them the full story about why I left Chicago—what Logan really did.”
Blake’s eyebrows knit in concern. “You did?”
I nod. I tell him everything we talked about.
“We’re good now,” I say. “And when I told them about my internship in Mexico City, they were excited for me.”
Blake flashes a soft smile, his eyes warm. “I’m so happy for you guys. I’m so glad you’re good again.”
“Me too. It was nice to talk to them. It feels like we’re getting back to normal—back to what we used to be.”
“I’m so glad.”
I wrap my arms around Blake and hug him, grateful for how everything worked out. Grateful for how he stood by me through it all.
I hold him tighter, hoping with all my heart that everything works out for him too.
But no matter what, no matter how it all turns out, I’ll be there for him. Always.