Bend Me, Break Me (24 page)

I didn’t have a destination in mind. I just got on the highway and drove. I figured I’d know where I was going when it felt right.

She turned on the radio and sang along at the top of her lungs. Compared to how she’d been earlier, it was a dramatic shift. I knew I should be wary of the change, but my need to see her overwhelmed everything else. Her mood was contagious and I also sang along to the eighties songs we’d found on a random radio station. She was surprised by how many I knew the lyrics to.

“My mom’s a huge 80s music fan, so she played it a lot around the house when I was a kid,” I said. I used to pretend I hated it and complain, but honestly, I’d loved having the mom who belted out Depeche Mode and Queen and Blondie instead of lullabies and so forth.

We drove for at least an hour, and I stopped to get gas and Ingrid went inside the 24 hour station to grab snacks.

“Not a whole lot of vegan options,” she said, holding up a bag of pretzels and a bag of Oreos as well as two sodas. “I wish I had a fake ID because I would have gotten a few beers.” She’d never talked about drinking before and I was surprised that was something she’d want to do.

“Yeah?” I asked as she ripped open the bag of pretzels.

“It would be fun. I just feel like I want to do so many things right now. Get drunk and do something crazy.” Her eyes were wild and she looked so pretty. I couldn’t say no to her.

“Too bad we didn’t think of that ahead of time. Marty has a few under his bed, I think.” Marty and I drank sometimes when we went out, but never took it to the extreme. I’d done enough of that when I was younger and waking up in your own vomit more than once will make you realize that you probably shouldn’t drink that much again. My little brother had yet to learn that lesson, but I guess I’d been pretty bad at that age as well, so maybe he’d get his shit together.

“Damn. I had a fake ID once in high school, but I have no idea what happened to it. I never used it, though, so I have no idea if it was any good.” Huh. I hadn’t known that. There were still so many things to learn about Ingrid.

We started driving again and she held the bag of pretzels open for me so I could dig my right hand in and eat while driving with my left.

“Oh, go here!” she suddenly yelled and my heart stopped for a second. I saw the exit she was jabbing her finger at and put on my blinker. Good thing there weren’t many cars around because I had to cut across a lane to make it to the exit in time.

“You know it’s not going to be open,” I said.

“I don’t care.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to get arrested,” I said as we skulked around.

“Shhh,” Ingrid said, taking my hand as we approached the museum. She’d decided that the middle of the night was the best time to try to visit the Maine Shaker Museum.

“We can come back when it’s open,” I hissed as she crept alongside the main building and peered in through a window. We were near the public buildings, but the actual Shaker community wasn’t very far away and there were still a few of them living. Since they were celibate, there weren’t a whole lot of them left. Still, they made great furniture.

“I think it’s cool,” she whispered, “that they’d give everything up for what they think is right.” I really didn’t want to talk, because it increased our chances of getting caught. But Ingrid squeezed my hand and I went ahead and joined her at the window.

We couldn’t see much and I pulled her along to the next building. They were mostly white and square. Simple, which was part of their belief system, I was pretty sure.

“We’ve seen it, now can we go?” I said. We’d parked a little way up the road in a ditch and I really, really didn’t want to get arrested. If something like that happened, my mom would march right up to Maine and haul me back home without another word. There was no way I could fight her on that if I got thrown in jail. And I couldn’t take the risk that she would find out who I was with.

Mom couldn’t know about Ingrid. Ever.

“I wanna come back when it’s open,” Ingrid said, still going from window to window to try to see what she could.

“Okay, we will. Can we go now, though?” Every little noise made me jump. I wasn’t normally so paranoid, but I had a lot at stake right now.

She sighed and turned to me. Her eyes were bright in the dark.

“I wish we could break in and just look around.” Now she was taking things too far. I tugged at her arm.

“Ingrid.” I said her name with urgency. “We can’t. They probably have security cameras, at least in the store and the museum. So let’s go before something happens and we regret this.” She opened her mouth, as if she was going to argue with me, but then stopped.

“You’re right. You’re right. I just… I wanted to do
something
.” I understood that, but breaking into a museum wasn’t the something we needed to be doing.

“Come on, let’s keep driving. We can find something better. And legal.” She let out a little snort and let me lead her back to the car in a semi-crouch. I didn’t breathe fully until we were back on the highway and I was sure there were no blue flashing lights following us.

Even though it was chilly, Ingrid opened the window and stuck her hand out. I was getting cold, but I didn’t say anything.

“What’s up with the sudden need for recklessness?” I said. She turned toward me and shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that phone call you missed?” Oh, I was so close to saying the wrong thing, but I couldn’t stop.

“No,” she said, going back to staring out the window. I didn’t believe her, but if I kept going, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. So I turned the radio up and shut my mouth.

I couldn’t put into words why I wanted to do something crazy and potentially illegal. I’d just been gripped by the need to do something, anything. I’d spent months doing next to nothing. Not living, just existing. Something inside me had snapped and I just wanted to say, fuck it. I was going to do whatever the hell I wanted, because why not? We were all going to die, so why not do whatever you wanted?

My parents and my sister were never going to get to do anything reckless. Ever again. Their right to do that had been taken away by someone who decided they didn’t matter. Their lives were nothing. Just stones in his path that he kicked away.

The motive was supposedly money. My parents had been well off and for some reason
he
decided that his need to pay for drugs to pump through his worthless body was more important than their need to be alive.

I had heard of other victims of horrible tragedy who had risen above it and forgiven the people who had ruined their lives.

Fuck.

That.

I was never going to forgive him. Ever. I didn’t care if it ate away at me. Let it. I’d revel in it. I’d dance with it, love it, nurture it. I’d absorbed it into my cells and it had become part of my DNA. There was no way to separate me from it and I wouldn’t even try.

My mind drifted as Coen drove and we put miles between us and campus. I almost asked him to just keep driving. Keep driving forever. Turn our backs on everything and start over. Be new people, with new names, new lives. I wouldn’t be Ingrid, The Girl with the Dead Family. I could be Celia or Elizabeth or Molly. I’d get new ID and dye my hair and maybe pierce my eyebrow or start wearing more skirts or get a cat. Coen could be Jaime or Nick or Tyler. We could be like secret agents, or in Witness Protection or aliens from another planet studying human life. We could be anyone. Do anything.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, turning the radio down.

“Nothing. Everything.”

“You’re so cryptic sometimes, Ing. I swear, I never really know what’s going on inside your head.” I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“I meant that as a compliment,” he said when I didn’t answer.

“It doesn’t really feel like that, but if you say so.” The cold air was making my skin hurt, but the burn in my lungs was worth it.

“You scare me sometimes,” he said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him over the sound of the radio. I reached forward and turned it nearly all the way down.

“What do you mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. I scared me. The things that I felt and the memories in my head and the thoughts that I had all scared me. Being alive scared me.

It would have been so much easier if I had been home. If I hadn’t gone out with my friends for pizza. If only I had been home, I wouldn’t be here wondering what would have happened if I was there with them.

“You’ve been through so much and it makes me feel like you have something I don’t. Like I can’t understand what you’ve been through and you’re going to figure that out. You absolutely terrify me, Ingrid. For so many reasons.” Well, what the hell was I supposed to do with that?

“You were the one who wanted to be friends. If I’m so much trouble, then why did you bother?” I didn’t say it to be mean. I was honestly interested in what it was that Coen had seen in me to try to get past all the roadblocks I’d thrown in front of him.

“Because I had to, okay? I
had
to.” I’d never seen him clench his jaw that hard and suddenly we were careening over to the side of the road as the car slammed to a halt. Before I knew what was happening, he was getting out and hopping over the divider and starting to walk toward the trees that lined the road. I scrambled after him, calling his name.

“Coen!” I jogged to catch up with him and then he whirled around to face me.

“What’s going on?” A cold drip of fear made its way down my spine.

I knew that without him even having to say anything. This was it. The moment that would change everything between us. I’d always thought there was something off about why he wanted to be friends with me.

“What’s going on,
Coen
.” I spat out the words. He ripped his hands through his hair so violently that I thought he was going to pull it out. It was dark, except for the glow of the car’s headlights and the occasional passing vehicle. It was probably dangerous to leave the car like that and be out here in the middle of the night, but I didn’t care. We were doing this. Right now.

He leaned over, putting his hands on his knees, as if he was going to be sick. But then he let out a sound that I could tell was something akin to a sob. He was crying. I took a few steps toward him and touched his shoulder.

Finally, he looked up at me.

“I came here for you. It wasn’t an accident.” I didn’t know what he was saying. The words were just jumbles of letters without meaning.

“What?” He swallowed hard before he continued.

“I came here for you. I knew who you were before that first time we met. I knew your name and what you looked like and when your birthday was and so many other things.” Now I was the one who was feeling sick. I just couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“How? Why?” The second question was the most important. Why? Was he some kind of stalker? I took a step back from him and wished that I had been the one who’d driven because then I would have the keys and the ability to leave if I had to.

“What’s going on, Coen?” My voice sounded weak and I wished that I felt stronger. More confident.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I came here because… because I had to. I had to see you. I had to make sure that you were okay. Or help you if you weren’t. Or, I don’t know. But I had to do something.” He still wasn’t making any sense.

“But why? Why me? How did you find me?”

He met my eyes and said the words that changed everything.

“Because of him. Because of the man that killed your family.”

“What about him,” I said, my vision going spotty.

“He’s my father.”

This was it. I couldn’t put it off any longer. It wasn’t fair to her. It hadn’t been fair this whole time. I knew that now. My altruistic plan of being some kind of savior or something was beyond naïve. I had no excuse for it. But I’d done it and now I was going to have to deal with the fallout.

Ingrid didn’t say a word. She just stared at me. The sound of the highway and the wind in the trees behind me dimmed and I could only focus on her. Nothing but her.

I watched her take in my words. My entire life had somehow led me to this moment, with this girl.

I was able to keep myself from breaking down and crying, but just barely.

She was so quiet. I’d thought she would cry, or yell, or tell me I was crazy. Anything other than this absolute stillness.

Finally, I caved.

“Please say something,” I croaked.

“I don’t know what to say. What is there to say, Coen? What could I possibly say to that?” Her voice was monotone, robotic.

Detached. She’d checked out like I’d seen her do so often. I’d pushed her too far and this was the result. I shivered and realized that it was fucking cold and I needed to get her into the car and put the heater on. Even though she had my coat on, it wouldn’t protect her from the piercing wind that whipped her hair around her face. The only part of her that moved.

“I don’t know. But we can’t say here. Come on, I’ll take you back to school.” I started to walk toward her and she took a few jerky steps backward. Avoiding me.

“I’m not getting in that fucking car with you, Coen.” My name became a curse. A word that she hated. She swore when she was upset.

“Well, I can’t leave you here, Ingrid. You can sit in the back if you want and I won’t talk to you.”

I took another step toward her and she spoke again.

“How could you do this to me?” The words sliced me open and I looked down at my chest to make sure I wasn’t bleeding everywhere. She was right. How could I have done this?

“I don’t know. I just remember when my mom got the phone call. He’d bailed when I was a baby. I’d never known him, and she didn’t talk about him. There were no pictures. I just remember the look on her face as she fell to the floor and my stepdad caught her.” Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. The words had been inside me ever since the first day, desperate to get out.

“They wouldn’t tell me had happened, but I figured it out. I looked it up online and that was how I found you.” She whisked some hair out of her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. I knew she was cold, but I we had to do this. Right here, right now.

“I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About what you were going through and what you had lost. It was almost like an obsession. I just wanted to do
something
. So I made a plan. I decided to come to college in Maine. The fact that you ended up in my class was pure coincidence. I flipped out when I saw you that first day. And you were so beautiful and so sad and I just wanted…” I trailed off. I had never been able to put that part into words. What I wanted to do for her.

I mean, it didn’t make any sense. What the hell could some complete stranger do for her? I didn’t know, but I had to find out. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.

“I can’t believe you would do that to me. You lied. This entire time. You lied to me.”

One part of me was rooted in the moment with Coen. Watching the pain on his face as he told his story. Another part had drifted away and hovered above, watching the scene as if it was a play, or a movie.