Chapter 19 - A Million Rainbows

Kyle called me the second he and his mom dropped me off at the streetlight. I didn’t have to ask him to stop there, and he didn’t argue about it this time. I suspected he had already explained the situation to his mom because she didn’t say anything either.

“I’m in,” I said, as I closed and locked the door behind me.

“Okay, good,” said Kyle. “Hey, just stay on the phone until I get home.”

“Kyle, let that poor girl sleep.”

“My mom thinks I should let you sleep. Should I let you sleep?”

I was at our fridge, putting away the many containers of food Sue had given me. “No, don’t let me sleep. But I’m going to put you down for a second, though, so I can go brush my teeth and stuff.”

I heard his mom offer the suggestion that we could just hang up and call back, but neither Kyle nor I jumped on that idea. “Yeah, okay,” said Kyle. “If I’m not on when you get back, I’m doing the same.”

I put the phone down and went to the back of the house to check on Charlie. She was cuddled up in bed with Mom again, both looking happy while they slept. The TV was on, so I shut it off.

The house was too cold, and after brushing my teeth, I changed into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt and got into bed with my new phone.

It was quiet on Kyle’s end when I put it to my ear. I could hear stuff, him moving around his house, then silence for a few minutes where he must have put his phone down. Then he was back, and I knew that because he started singing my name into the phone. I just had to listen for a minute because it was too funny. He was repeating, “Bree, Bree, Bree …” to the tune of “Old MacDonald”.

“What are you doing?” I said, cutting in before he started into the second stanza.

“Oh, you’re there?”

“Yeah. And your song was great.”

He laughed. “If you like the song, I can finish singing it for you.”

“No, that’s okay,” I said, abruptly putting a stop to that idea. I didn’t want the “Old MacDonald” tune stuck in my head.

“Oh no,” said Kyle, clicking his tongue into the phone. “She’s going to stop being nice now that she’s hooked me.”

“Have I hooked you? Because I don’t remember throwing any hooks.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’ve got natural cute girl hooks. It can’t be helped.”

I rolled my eyes at that. “I don’t think so. I think it’s more likely that I hoodwinked you, or maybe Charlie did. I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” said Kyle. “I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re hot, Bree.”

Now my eyes were rolled up so far, they were threatening to circle to the back of my head. I didn’t respond because I didn’t want it to seem like I was fishing for more vomit-inducing compliments.

“Bree?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to tell you something because I think we’ve reached that level.”

“What level?” I was curious to know what level he thought we were at.

“The level where we say stuff to each other,” he said matter-of-factly like he was declaring that to be our level. “Okay. So all these years you’ve thought of me as rich-kid Kyle Roberts, right?”

No. I had thought of him as the beautiful, perfect, godlike, flawless-piece-of-art Kyle Roberts, who also happened to be rich.

My opinion of him hadn’t changed much since getting to know him.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, then added, “Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. Uh … so I’m going to tell you what I thought of you.”

I swallowed. I really didn’t think I wanted to hear this.

“So Brianna Dover …” he said with a small laugh as he reminisced. “You know, it’s funny thinking about you in this light now, but here I go. Uh, so Brianna Dover was that cute, quiet, hot chick who always sat in the front row in math. That’s been my opinion of you since I started noticing girls.”

I tried to smile. Or laugh. Or say something nice back, but I couldn’t go along with it. “Yeah, thanks, Kyle. But you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying. I mean, come on, Dover. You sat in front of me every day for years. Always wearing those goddamn jeans that make you look … uh, way too good. How was I not going to notice you?”

He might have been lying, but it was still nice. And if he wasn’t lying, it was also still nice. What could I say? “Thanks, Kyle.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your jeans and …”—he coughed—“your other lovely assets.”

I laughed. And blushed. And fell further into my blankets, trying to sink below the heat wave of embarrassment that was suddenly swirling across my skin.

“Yeah,” said Kyle, “I just never talked to you, because I was dating someone, and I thought you were out of my league, anyway.”

“How could I possibly be out of your league?” I muttered, kind of floored by that comment.

“Okay, so I left something out. An opinion I had of you. It’s not bad, but you’ve always given off a very serious, I’m-above-it-all vibe.”

That didn’t come as a surprise to me. “Well, I’ve been focusing on school and other stuff like Charlie,” I said. “Just trying to stay above it all.”

“Yeah, I know that now.”

I yawned.

“Bree, do you want me to let you go? It’s 1:00 a.m.”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, but I should. I just have a question, first.”

“Okay?”

“Uh, so at school. Do we keep pretending like we don’t know each other? Because it’s going to be kind of hard after this weekend.”

My breath caught, my body stiffening. I was unprepared for that question, and I fell quiet, leaving Kyle unanswered.

I was trying to steady myself as a storm of worries swirled in my head. All of them, stupid, making no sense. But it didn’t matter. The dark clouds rolled in, anyway, and my mind was a haze of anxiety, impossible to sift through.

“Okay. So that’s a no to talking at school. Which is fine.” He sighed.

“Kyle, it’s just a lot,” I whispered.

“It’s a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, explain that to me,” he said. “I mean, I know people will talk, but they’ll get over it. Right?”

“Yeah, probably.”

He was right. I was overreacting. Over-thinking. Like always. But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t reason this heavy feeling away. It was a looming beast. A big, relentless bear, pressing on my chest. I hated that I couldn’t explain it. I felt so dumb. And that just made everything worse, piling on the shame and humiliation.

And then, just like that, the dominoes were falling, and I was a hopeless mess.

“Bree?”

I held the phone outside my blankets while I tried to breathe away the swell of tears in my eyes.

“Bree? Come on, say something.”

I opened my mouth, closing it again. I wouldn’t be able to talk without crying. It was so dumb. And I didn’t want to always keep crying in front of him.

“Bree? Hey, just confirm you’re there. I’ll talk. Are you there?”

I brought the phone to my mouth. “Yeah,” I said, trying hard not to let him hear that I was crying, but my voice broke, and a stupid, gasping sound escaped.

“Okay, okay … Hey, Bree. We’re taking the school stuff off the table. Right now. I’m doing that. Okay? I won’t ask again. Just talk to me.”

I sniffed, shrugging because I didn’t know what to say.

“Shit, I should have talked to you about this when you were here. I’m sorry.”

“Kyle,” I said, making an effort because he was being too nice. “I can’t talk right now …”—my breath drew in sharply and audibly—“because I can’t stop crying. And I sound … stupid.”

“Hey, no. You don’t sound stupid. Just take a second. Hey, how about this? I’ll tell you a story to help you clear your head. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Kyle started into a story about a time his brother took him camping. It was a funny story about a skunk coming into their camp and scaring the shit out of them, but I heard the pain in Kyle’s voice as he spoke of his deceased brother.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” I said. The story idea had worked, and I was feeling better, but I wanted to cry all over again for Kyle’s loss.

“Yeah, thanks. I miss him. All the time.”

We were both quiet.

“Bree, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am.” I took a breath to make sure I was done crying. “It’s hard to explain because it doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“Okay, well, if you want to try, I’m here.”

I had to try; he really was too nice. “Um, it’s just I can’t handle something else right now. You know? Dealing with school. And Charlie. And my mom. And … well, everything.” My future, my life, falling apart. “I need to be able to focus when I’m at school, and I can’t handle people talking about me. Or thinking about me. Or looking at me. It’s too much. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. So you explained that pretty well. And it’s a hundred percent reasonable. We’ll lie low. Okay?”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Hey, I’ll let you go. And, though I won’t talk to you at school, I’ll talk to you at some point this week. I’ll probably call you if that’s okay?”

“Yes, please call me.”

“Okay,” said Kyle. “Uh … I’m not sure when. I’ll surprise you. Is that all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Thanks for the amazing weekend, Bree.”

“Yeah, you too. Night, Kyle.”