Chapter 27 - A Million Rainbows

“Hey Charlie, can I ask you something?”

We were sitting on the couch in the living room watching Frozen. The turkey was in the oven. Everything else was cooked and set out on the table.

Charlie had dressed up for the occasion and was wearing her blue Elsa dress. She nodded in response to me, a big, bouncy head of copper curls flying everywhere.

I was hesitant to ask this question; I didn’t want to upset her, but I needed to know. “I was just wondering about Mom …” I said, but I stalled, second-guessing myself. This was going to upset her, and it would be heartless to ask. I sighed. “Never mind.”

Charlie crawled to her knees and knelt beside me. She put her small arms around me and wrapped me in a tight hug. I squeezed her back, a smile breaking on my face because it was too sweet. “Bree, it is close,” she said, pulling away and wiping strands of copper from her eyes.

My mouth fell open. “What?” I asked, startled by that remark. “How did you know what I was going to ask? You’re not reading minds now, are you?”

She shook her head. “You ask that question a lot.”

“Have I asked it out loud?” She was actually spooking me out a little. The last thing I, or Charlie, needed was for her to be able to see inside my messed-up brain.

She shook her head again. “Not here. But sometimes you do. A lot of times you do.”

I laughed. She was talking about the other realities, I guess. I would have to take her word on that, deciding I wasn’t going to poke too much into her strange little psychic mind.

“Okay, so … why do you think Mom’s going to change?” I said, asking the question out loud for the first time in this reality. “Are these other timelines really so close to ours? The ones where she’s better? They don’t seem so close to me.”

She nodded, lifting her hands. “Like this.” She held her palms together, flat and pointed up like she was praying, keeping them apart just enough so they weren’t touching. She moved that last millimeter to close the space, intertwining her fingers and folding them down, locking her hands together. “See, it’s not hard.”

If that millimeter was supposed to represent the space, the distance between our real mom and Charlie’s dream mom, then it was a lot bigger than it looked, with a lot more than just air inside it.

But Charlie’s smile was unwavering, making me want to believe it could be that easy.

I shook my head in awe of my beautiful little sister. I gave her a hug, and she went back to her show, back to being regular kid Charlie, watching Frozen with a smile on her face. It was a movie she had seen a hundred times, at least, and it still made her smile—every time.

That was the actual difference between reality and her dreams. She was a child. She didn’t realize how big and scary that space between her palms really was.

That was okay.

I would let Charlie dream. And I would do my best to hold up that dream for her.

Dover … I refuse to believe you’re ignoring me? Call when you can.

I had been ignoring him. But he’d only called that one time last night. Then he had sent a short text this morning, wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving, so I didn’t think he would notice.

I didn’t want him to notice.

“Do you guys mind?” I asked, holding up my phone to Mom and Charlie. Charlie was rambling on about the goings-on in her daily little life, about school, Mia, and even me at times. She was so happy to have Mom sitting at the table with us, and she had been talking nonstop for at least an hour now.

Mom nodded okay to me, and Charlie just kept talking.

I hit call on Kyle’s message and got up.

“Phew, she’s alive,” he said as he picked up. The sound of laughter and party chatter was loud behind him. “Hey, hold on a second.” The line was quiet for a brief moment, then Kyle was back with less background noise. “Hey, you called just in time. I was about to blow my brains out.”

Oh no. Kyle wasn’t happy—I frowned, my heart breaking a little. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, it’s just my dad. He’s been harping about college all night. It’s been real fun.” Kyle moaned his irritation into the phone. “Please tell me you’ll say yes to coming over?”

I wanted to say yes. I was in the living room, swaying back and forth with indecision. I peeked down the hall into the kitchen where Charlie and Mom were sitting, still chatting away.

I came back to Kyle. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can.”

He sighed “Yeah, that’s okay.”

I wasn’t used to this defeated, dejected version of Kyle, and it was making me sad.

I looked around the house. It was still clean. Cleaner than it had ever been—would ever be—and I had just spent an entire day ignoring Kyle, who obviously needed someone other than his dad to talk to.

My knees were trembling, but I took a breath and forced myself to be brave. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t. And I couldn’t hide who I was forever. Besides, I believed Kyle when he said I could trust him.

I swallowed my nerves. “Do you want to come over?” I asked. “Hang out?”

A quiet, surprised, almost inaudible laugh came through the phone, and I imagined a smile stretching on Kyle’s face. “Dover, are you inviting me to your house?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you want to? If you can?”

He laughed, louder, and it was easy to hear this time. “Uh, I want to. And I can. Is now okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, blowing out a nervous breath. The room was suddenly sweltering. I pressed my hands to my forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed there.

“I need your address,” said Kyle.

“Just text when you leave. It’s not too far from where you drop me off. I’ll wait outside.”

“Okay. Hey, do you guys have food?”

“Um … well, no, you should probably eat before you come. We have a dry-ass turkey and some not-so-great sides, so …”

“Oh, I just meant I could bring stuff over. My mom made a crap load of food like always. She was going to wrap some up for you, anyway.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay. We’re fine. We ate.”

“What about dessert?”

We didn’t have any dessert. I had forgotten all about dessert until Charlie had mentioned it. “No, not really,” I said, feeling kind of stupid for blanking out on dessert on Thanksgiving.

“All right, I’ll bring stuff. We have a bunch of pies here that no one’s eating. Expect a shit ton of pies. I’ll text you when I leave.”

I was a dreadful mix of frayed nerves and gross, sweaty chills as I waited in front of our apartment building.

Kyle drove up a minute later, coming to a stop beside me. He was in a small, black, sporty-looking Honda Civic. He got out, opened the back door, and pulled out a large cloth grocery bag. He rounded the car and stood beside me, placing the bag at his feet.

He stared at me for a drawn-out moment, a wilted, somber expression fixed in his eyes. “So do you like my new car?” He tilted his head back toward the sleek Honda behind him.

I coughed a little, attempting to hold back my judgmental smirk. “Yeah, I love your new car.” I shook my head, a smile stretching—he was so spoiled.

“My dad bought it. It’s kind of a bribe, I think. To get me to go to Stanford.”

I nodded, breaking inside.

Kyle had been deflated by his dad tonight. That was obvious. It was in his eyes, in his voice, in his non-existent smile. His dad had succeeded at wearing him down, and he was now thinking about going.

That realization slammed my chest, crushing my heart—California was so far.

This was the first time I let myself think that far into the future. Every second with Kyle was a blessed dream, one I wasn’t even supposed to be a part of. It just seemed greedy to hope for months or years or anything more than just now with him. But the thought of him being that far away was a horrible thought. Awful.

I stepped forward. Wrapped my arms around him. I wanted to hold him as close as I could. I wanted to, selfishly, keep him forever. He grabbed on to that hug, holding me tight, making me believe he wanted the same thing.

Kyle let go and was rubbing my arms because I was shivering. “You need a thicker coat,” he said.

My breath hitched. “No, Kyle.” My shoulders slumped. “Oh no,” I pleaded. I knew what he was thinking; he wanted to buy me a new coat. Dammit—he was going to buy me a new coat.

I shook my head at him. He shook his back, undeterred, and we battled it out with our eyes for a second.

“Why don’t we get inside then?” Kyle said with a smirk, obviously thinking he had won.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, forgetting about the coat and taking a worried breath. I reached for his hand. “Come on, let’s go see my shitty house.”

We stood at the top, near the door. We had already passed my neighbor’s junk-pile driveway, so in comparison, our crappy apartment might at least look habitable. That was the silver lining I was clinging to as I steadied my breath.

Kyle put a hand on my shoulder. “Bree, it’ll be all right.”

I looked over at him, feeling sulky, hating this so much. My fingers were stuck, frozen on the doorknob. He gave me a reassuring nod, moved his hand on top of mine, and we twisted it together.

Charlie shot up from the table and ran over to Kyle when she saw him.

“Hey, Pumpkin Patch!” he said, kneeling to her height and giving her a hug. He stood up, eyeing Mom at the table. He didn’t wait to be introduced. “I’m Kyle. Nice to meet you.” He stretched out an arm to her.

Mom’s eyes were bright and baffled as she took his hand. Her look of shock made me laugh, and it made me wonder what kind of guy she had pictured for me. Certainly not the perfect, golden Kyle. But I didn’t blame her for that one.

“Kyle, this is my mom, Maggie. Mom, Kyle.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Kyle,” said Mom, sounding so normal and nice, and almost sober, I wanted to kiss her.

Kyle lifted the bag he brought, placing it on the table. “Pumpkin Patch, what’s your favorite kind of pie?” he said. “I bet I got it.”

Charlie climbed onto the chair beside him, trying to peek into the bag.

Kyle closed it on her. “Nope, it’s a magical bag. If you look inside it, everything turns to red Jell-O.”

“I like red Jell-O,” she said, giggling.

Kyle smiled. “That’s right, you do. But not on Thanksgiving. Everybody likes pie on Thanksgiving. It’s kind of a rule. So what will it be?”

Charlie put a finger to her chin like she was trying to think. “Chocolate,” she said.

“Chocolate?” Kyle’s face bunched up, looking worried. He pulled in a tense breath. “Now, I don’t know if this bag is magical enough for chocolate,” he said. “It might need some extra Charlie magic. Try waving your hands over it like this.” He made a circular motion at the top of the bag.

Charlie mimicked him.

“Now say, gobble gobble.”

She laughed. “Gobble gobble.”

“Okay, let’s see.” Kyle reached into the bag, pulling out a plastic, wedge-shaped container holding a single piece of chocolate cream pie. Charlie’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open because she really believed it was magic.

Kyle looked at Mom. “What will it be, Maggie?”

Mom waved a hand at him. “Oh, no, that’s okay.”

“She likes apple pie,” I said, knowing Mom was just being polite, or maybe it was that she was still recovering from shock. Either way, she would eat an apple pie if it was in front of her.

Kyle reached into the bag, pulling out a bigger, whole, intact apple pie. “My mom actually made this one for you guys,” he said, putting it on the table.

I grabbed some plates and silverware and placed them beside the pie, handing a spoon to Charlie so she could eat hers.

Kyle turned to me. “I’d like a tour, Brianna.”

Brianna? I laughed. That was code for something. “Sure.”

Kyle left the bag and his coat on the chair and followed me out of the kitchen.

“Okay,” I said, stopping in my room after we had walked through the living room. “That was the tour.” I lifted my shoulders, pulling them in, waiting for his response.

He pivoted on his spot near the door, doing a full circle as he scanned my boring, sparsely decorated room: the bare walls, the empty corners, the closed closet, the lone dresser. “It really is just your beds, huh?” His dimples pinched.

I shrugged again. “I like it clean. It helps me think.”

He put his hand on the door. “Would your mom care if I closed this?”

I shook my head.

He closed the door, moving his hand to the sliding bolt lock at the top. He looked at me with the same question in his eyes.

I shook my head again, and he slid it closed.

He crossed the room to me, reaching and pulling me into him. “I really want to make out with you on your bed,” he said, his mouth near my ear, then on my chin.

I was a swirly mix of heat and feelings. My body had evaporated. It was completely gone. What was the science behind that? All I could manage in response was a breathy “Okay” before he was on my lips and pushing me onto the mattress.

Since Kyle had a car and there was no school in the morning and no one was telling him to go, he just stayed.

We watched a movie with Mom and Charlie. They fell asleep halfway into it. Then they moved to Mom’s room when the credits rolled, leaving Kyle and me alone.

We were lying side by side on my bed. It was late, past midnight, and we were both tired, both being quiet. Even Kyle, who usually felt the need to fill the silence, was a subdued, sleepy version of his normal, vibrant self.

“So I like your house,” he said eventually.

He turned his head on the pillow. I did the same, and we stared at each other. It was dark in the room, but the moon was out, shining through my window; Kyle under moonlight was a beautiful thing.

I held back an eye roll. “You do?” He was going to pretend to like my shitty house. That was really sweet.

“Yeah, you seem happy here.”

That took me by surprise. “I do?”

He nodded.

I thought about it. I had been happy today. “Well, it was a good day for my mom. And Charlie was happy. And I have Kyle with me.” I smiled at him.

He laughed. “I love when you talk about me in the third person.”

I was still smiling, staring at Kyle’s flawless, moonlit skin. He really was perfect, in so many ways. Beautiful, in so many ways. “Can I tell you something?” I asked.

“Yes.” He shifted on his side to face me.

I followed him, doing the same. “Actually, it’s a question.”

“Okay, shoot.”

I hesitated because I had a feeling he would think this was stupid. I sighed and decided to throw my worry over to him anyway and see what he said. “Um … you don’t think I’m using you, do you?”

Kyle’s eyeballs shot to the top of his head. They came back to me. A smirk pulled on his lips. “Oh yeah, definitely,” he said. “I’m always telling everybody how I’m being exploited by you.” He clicked his tongue three times. “She’s milking me for all I’m worth—that’s what I tell them.”

I knew he was joking, but I was still worried about it. He gently poked my arm, his expression sobering, matching mine. “Dover. No. I don’t think you’re using me. I’ve never once thought you were using me. Why are you questioning that?”

I didn’t answer right away. I was thinking, and Kyle knew that, so he waited.

“I never wanted to be like her,” I said, finding the answer in a dark corner, in a place I was usually too afraid to look, but Kyle beside me made things seem less scary, so I faced it. “She’s always running to guys. Hoping they’ll rescue her. That was never going to be me.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“Is this why you were ignoring me earlier?”

I shifted my gaze to his earlobe and nodded. “It would be so easy to do,” I said. “Especially with you.”

Kyle pressed his lips together, taking a long breath in through his nose. He sat up. “We can’t have this conversation lying down, so sit with me.” He tilted his head, pulling me up with the gesture.

We sat cross-legged on the bed. Kyle was near my pillows, and I was propped up against the wall near his feet.

“Okay,” said Kyle. “So you’ve never dated anyone else before, right? Or am I wrong about that? It’s okay if I’m wrong.”

“No, that’s right.”

“Okay, so that means you’ve come all this way. Really far. Without the help of any guy. Including me. Because I haven’t done anything.

“I mean, you’re at the top of the class at school. You’re an incredible sister, and daughter, too, even though your mom can’t see that. And you did that all without the help of any guy. Correct?”

“Yeah,” I said, pulling my shoulders in, realizing he was right.

“So that’s not what this is. You and me.” He pointed a finger between us, nudging my foot with his Tide-white socks. “You’re not using me. You’re not your mother. I’m here because you’re the exact opposite of that kind of girl.” Kyle scooted over to sit with me against the wall. He pulled my hand into his lap. “And besides, you’re allowed to lean on people. Especially when that person really cares about you.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder because he had just told me I could. “You care about me?” I asked, a rainbow warming my heart.

He let go of my hand and twisted to face me. “Yes. I care about you.” He narrowed his gaze, scanning me with sad, listless eyes.

My heart dropped. Shattered.

Those sad eyes were easy to read. “You’re going,” I said, and the tears just blinked right into my eyes. There was no buildup.

Kyle didn’t nod or shake his head. He stared at me—expressionless—for a long moment, his own eyes filling with tears.

He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. “I got accepted,” he said. “My grandfather’s on the board over there, so I was always going to get accepted. But it makes it much harder to say no to my dad now. He wants me to be Chris, my brother. He lost his golden child, and he expects me to take his place.”

Kyle brought his knees up and folded over them, resting his head in his arms. I moved in, huddling beside him, sneaking a kiss to his cheek.

“I blame this on you,” he said, lifting a smile to me. “It’s all your fault.”

I laughed, amazed that he could make me smile, even when I was crying. “How is that?” I asked.

“Because, Dover, before this year I was just going to go. I didn’t want to—don’t want to—but I was going to. To get my dad off my back. To give me time to think about what I actually wanted. And now I’m pretty sure I know what I want. And that does not include moving across the country, thousands of miles away from you.” Kyle shook his head, looking up and away, a stream of tears running down his nose.

“Hey,” I said, wiping my eyes, trying to compose myself, knowing he was the one who needed a shoulder right now. “For what it’s worth. And I’m not saying this because I want you to go—because God, I do not want you to go—but you’d make a pretty great doctor. An amazing doctor, I think.

“You’re incredible with people, Kyle. Always so friendly and kind. And empathetic. And nonjudgmental to the point of being awe-inspiring … really. I feel lucky and completely selfish for even having you in my life.

“I’m not saying your dad is right, but he isn’t wrong. I mean, not a surgeon. You’d be wasted as a surgeon. But something with children, maybe? Or a therapist, where you could actually help people … brighten their days, like you do for me every time you’re around.”

I leaned into Kyle with a kiss because I knew I was pushing him away with my words, and my heart was broken.

“You’re supposed to be making this easier for me,” he muttered, pulling me into a tight hug, then an even tighter one when I thought I couldn’t be closer. “You’re supposed to be begging me to stay.”

“My heart is begging you to stay.”

He nodded against my shoulder. “Mine too.”