Pieces of Me, page 28
“Did you have a nice time at Connor’s?” she asks.
My face turns hot. Can she tell? “Yeah,” I say, voice hoarse. “I did. I met his grandfather this afternoon.”
“Oh, how lovely. I’m glad you had fun, sweetie. You should invite Connor for dinner Saturday night. He can stay over if he wants.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?”
“I can’t let Izzy stay with Mark and not let Connor stay with you. What kind of mother would I be?”
“Maybe you should invite Jake for dinner. He can stay over, too. We can all get some.”
I’m not sure, but I think she blushes. “This is where I say good night. Love you.”
I smile. “Love you, too.” She blows me a kiss and closes my door. I turn back to my book and pick up where I left off. Inside me, there’s a lightness I haven’t felt for a while—a hopefulness.
I hope it lasts.
TWENTY-THREE
Dear Dylan,
Alyss, here. I’m going to try to give you as many details about what happened as I can. I know only what Darla told me and what little I saw myself, being up front enough to keep an eye on her.
So, last night we went to visit your father and Angie at their hotel, as you probably remember. Bella wanted to show us her dolls, which caught Darla’s attention and triggered a switch. Your sister was absolutely delighted to have someone to play with and she and Darla had a lovely hour of Barbie hijinks before your father’s phone rang. I don’t know who it was that called, or what they said, but your father was very upset by the conversation. He came into Bella’s room where the girls were playing and told them to stop.
“You need to go home,” he told Darla. “You need to go now.”
This scared Darla, who was afraid she’d done something wrong, and she began to cry. Your father didn’t know what to do with us then, so he called your mother, told her what happened, and demanded she come get you. He still hadn’t realised that “you” weren’t you. And can I say that, while his grief and shock can excuse that to an extent, I still think he’s a fucking git for not seeing that it was obviously a small child in control of the body. I see where Mark gets his bouts of insensitivity and boorish behaviour.
But I digress. Darla’s distress brought me closer to the front and into co-consciousness so I was able to soothe her and take partial control. With Bella and the dolls still present, I wasn’t able to wrest her away completely, plus she’s a nosy little thing. Regardless, here’s what transpired next:
We continued to play dollies with Bella until your mother arrived. It seemed to take forever for her to appear, but I suppose that was compounded by my sharing the front with a six-year-old and really wanting to get the hell out of there.
As soon as Darla saw Jennifer, she quieted and receded into the inner space, allowing me to take full control. I’m not that comfortable out front, as you know, but I assumed you’d take control soon. I packed up our things, gave Bella a hug, and got the bloody hell out of there, because frankly, your father gives me the shits.
Once in the car and on our way out of Manhattan, your mother asked if I was okay. I introduced myself and expressed my confusion as to what had even happened. She took it in stride, brilliant creature that she is. That’s when she advised me of the night’s events.
“Dylan’s uncle attempted suicide,” she explained.
“Travis?” I asked for clarification. (I have no idea how many siblings either of your parents have.)
“Yes,” she replied. “They found him in his cell. He’s in the hospital now.”
When I enquired as to his methods, she told me she didn’t have all the details. I expressed my disappointment, which may have disconcerted her somewhat. Please extend my apologies if so. I did advise her that my lack of any sort of familial feeling for the bastard prevented me from mourning his condition in any way, shape, or form. She seemed to understand this and told me she didn’t plan to cry over him either. I do quite like your mother.
So, there you go, that’s the extent of what I know. When we arrived at the house, I came immediately to your room to write this down. Now that I have done that, I am going to attend to the list of nightly ablutions you have detailed elsewhere and prepare the body for rest. I hope that if you have not returned to the front by the time I put us to bed that you will be here by morning. Let me know if the bastard makes it.
* * *
I’m digging through a drawer looking for the s’more tongs when Izzy arrives on Saturday. She came over early so we could hang out without the guys. It’s important to us to still have our friend time, and I appreciate it more than she could ever know.
She gives me a hug and helps me put everything together so we can make s’mores later.
“It’s going to be cold on the beach,” she comments.
“I’m going to build a fire in the pit on the patio,” I tell her, because she’s right—the beach will be too cold, and it’s also a pain to lug everything down there.
“Is your mom’s boyfriend joining?”
I grin. “For dinner. Not sure what their plans are for the evening. I think I freaked her out when I suggested they stay here, too.”
She laughs. “Perv.” Her smile fades. “So, what’s the word?”
I shrug. “He’s alive, but now his lawyers are concerned about his mental state. Doesn’t matter. It’s not up to me anymore—I was a minor and the state doesn’t fuck around with that stuff.”
“Good. I hope he ends up in gen pop.”
I can’t help but smile at her slang. “Look at you knowing all the lingo.”
Izzy shakes her head. “I don’t know how you can be so relaxed about it.”
I think about it, choosing my words. “Because even though I know it happened to me, to my body, I still don’t have a lot of those memories. I guess it allows me to stand back a bit. My main concern is keeping him away from Bella. And other girls. Any punishment he gets is icing.”
From the way she looks at me I can tell she doesn’t quite get it. “Okay. I got the update. New topic.” Her eyes sparkle. “I haven’t seen you since you spent the night at Connor’s…”
I flush. “No fair. I don’t ask about your sex life.”
“Because I’m sleeping with your brother.”
“Ugh!” I cry, covering my ears with my hands. “Lalalala!”
She pulls my hands away and holds them, her dark eyes twinkling. “Seriously, D. Are you okay?”
“I’m better than okay,” I tell her. “Connor and I are good. Like, better than I ever expected.”
Her face lights up with interest. “Really? That good?”
My face is already hot, so who cares. “Better.” We giggle a little. Seriously, I never thought of myself as a giggler. Of course, a few months ago I wouldn’t have thought of myself as multiple either. I thought my brain was defective; now I know it’s just … compartmented.
“I’m so happy for you,” Izzy says, giving my hands a squeeze before letting go.
“What are we happy about?” Mark asks as he saunters into the room. He’s wearing sweatpants and a Henley and somehow he still looks like he crawled out of a catalog, the ass. Meanwhile, my hair’s puffed up like a mound of cotton candy on top of my head.
My brother grins at me as he tugs on a strand of it. “You look like one of those troll dolls.”
I snap at him with a pair of tongs. “You smell like a troll.”
Connor arrives a few minutes later, followed shortly after by Jake. The six of us decide what takeout we want, and Mom places the order; then we play a board game while we wait. Turns out Jake is very competitive.
Turns out so is Lannie, and she and I take turns switching in and out throughout the evening depending on what’s going on. It gives me a low-grade headache, but it’s worth it. The last time I switch, I find myself in the bathroom brushing my teeth, dressed for bed, the smell of woodsmoke clinging to my hair. Connor is in my room, making a bed on the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He looks up. He’s wearing track pants and a T-shirt. “Lannie was out,” he explains, blinking. “I was going to give her the bed.”
“Well, she’s gone now, and it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed with her before.”
“I know, but it felt … weird.” He shrugs. “I don’t mind taking the floor if you want.”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor.”
I finish in the bathroom, then let him do what he needs to do as I crawl into bed. He joins me a few minutes later also smelling of toothpaste and smoke.
“Does this feel weird?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Maybe if your mom was still here, but I relaxed a lot after they left. Lannie teased me about it.”
“You know, you’re the only guy who has ever been in this bed,” I tell him in a mock-sultry tone.
Putting his arm around me, he pulls me close. “Yeah?”
I nod. “I even changed the sheets for you.”
He laughs. “I’m honored.” He smooths my hair back from my face. “I don’t have any expectations, just so you know.”
He tells me that a lot. “I know. You’re a really nice guy, do you know that?”
Twirling a strand of my hair around his finger, he smiles. “Yeah, I know. It’s how I was raised.”
“Remind me to thank your parents when I meet them. If I meet them,” I correct myself.
“You can meet them whenever you want,” he tells me. “They’ve been asking when it’s going to happen. Apparently, my grandfather sang your praises the last time they saw him.”
I grin. “Really? That’s so sweet. I’d like to meet your parents.”
“Next weekend, maybe?”
“Yeah.” I stifle a yawn. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“You were switching out a lot tonight. That has to be exhausting. By the way, Lannie should not be trusted near fire. Just saying. You should see how she likes her marshmallows.”
“Burnt?” I guess.
He nods. “It’s a crime.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I like them burnt, too.”
“No.” He makes like he’s going to get out of bed. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
Laughing, I grab his arm and pull him back. It doesn’t take much. I wrap myself around him as he pulls the covers up, and we snuggle together in the middle of the bed. We kiss.
“If Lannie or Kaz came out right now and said they wanted to have sex with you, would you do it?” I ask.
“No,” he replies. “That’s something we’ll need to talk about, I guess. Right now, it would feel weird—like I was cheating. Maybe when I get to know them better? If that was something you wanted. I mean, if you were okay with it.”
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “You’re right, it’s something I guess we’ll figure out. You, me, and the Posse.”
He grins. “I love that you’re calling them that.”
“It was your idea.”
He kisses me again, his expression turning serious. “So, since you’re you and not Lannie or Kaz … you want to take advantage of me?”
I do. I really do. I’m not naive enough to think it’s always going to be this way, but I’m smart enough to know to take advantage of it while it is. I crawl on top of him as he reaches for the light.
“No,” I say with a smile. “Leave it on.”
* * *
DALI
I look for Scratch in the cellar, but she’s not there. Vincent’s working out in the gym and says he hasn’t seen her; neither has Monet, who has been busy recataloging memories with the help of Kaz. I’m not completely sure, but there might be something romantic developing between them now that Monet has stopped avoiding the rest of us. It would be nice for them to have someone to spend time with. Monet has been so cloistered, and Kaz has spent so much time looking for a connection with someone—anyone—that I’ve often worried she might bring herself, and the rest of us, to harm.
Before Dylan discovered us, it had never occurred to us that we might find happiness inside our own world. Things have changed a lot over this last month and a half. Most of it has been good, and some of it we’re still trying to figure out. It’s early days, though.
Finally, I look outside. To my surprise, I find Scratch sitting on the merry-go-round, gently moving it from side to side with her feet.
“It’s more fun if you get it spinning and hop on,” I tell her as I approach.
She looks up, squinting into the sunshine that turns her hair bright as gold. I can’t remember the last time it was such a nice day here. For years it’s been perpetually overcast. Not unpleasant, but certainly not like this. The children love it. “I don’t like to get dizzy. It feels too much like when one of you kicks me out of the front space.”
I smile. “I guess it does sort of feel like that, yeah.” I sit down on the segment beside her and lean against the metal bar. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“It’s been like this ever since we told the truth.” She gives me a look. “Coincidence? I think not.”
Her voice has changed. I don’t mention it, however. I’m sure she’s aware of the changes that have taken place in her over the last few weeks. Of all of us, Scratch has gone through the most metamorphoses over the years. “It was a good thing you did, letting her tell.”
She makes a scoffing sound. “I couldn’t stop her. No, that’s bullshit. I didn’t want to stop her. For the first time in my existence, I was angrier at him than I was at her. I’m not sure what that means.”
“We’ve all felt a change. I suppose it means we’re healing.”
She lifts her face to the sun, eyes closed. “I’m not sure I like it, but I could get used to this weather.”
I chuckle and shut my eyes, tilting my chin up. Never mind the brightness that permeates my eyelids, the warmth of the sun does feel good. I’m going to miss it. I wait a few moments before speaking. I want to enjoy this moment. “She doesn’t need us anymore, Scratch.”
“Don’t be stupid. She needs someone to watch out for her.”
Opening my eyes, I use my hand to shield them from the sun as I roll my gaze toward her. “Yes, but not you. Not me. Not like we did, anyway.”
She stares at me. “What the fuck are you saying?”
I hold out my hand. “We need to talk.”
Scratch doesn’t hesitate, she puts her hand in mine. She knows she can trust me. I’ve never betrayed her, never lied to her or let her down. “You want me to leave, don’t you?”
“No. Yes.” I sigh. “You and me, we know where she’s weak and where she’s strong, but she’s figured that out for herself. We knew how to keep her safe, but now she’s doing that on her own.”
“She’s pretty shit at it.”
I laugh. “Maybe, but she wants to take care of herself, and of the others. She can’t do that with you putting her down and me fussing over her. A system is only as good as the sum of its parts and you and I have become obsolete. She needs something new. Someone to have her back and support her while she makes her own way.”
She doesn’t look surprised that I’ve included myself in this equation. “You want to integrate?”
Integration, or fusion. One of the two—whichever one is less painful. “What do you think?”
She looks away but doesn’t let go of my hand. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
Get in line. “I don’t think it matters if we’re ready, sweetie. Dylan is.”
“You bitch.” Her jaw tightens, but there’s no violence in her tone. “I don’t want to go.”
“I know. Neither do I, but we won’t really be gone, will we? We’ll still be us, just together. I can think of worse things.”
“You sure you want my memories?”
“No,” I reply honestly, smiling. “But you’ll have mine, too. Think of what we might become.”
Leaning back against the swing set, she turns her head to meet my gaze. “It might be nice, not being so pissed off all the time.”
“And I think it might be nice actually feeling a little anger now and again.”
She smiles. “You losing your temper is something I’d like to see. How do we do it?”
“I don’t know. We don’t have to rush. Let’s just sit here for a minute.” So, we do, leaning against opposite sides of the same bar, eyes closed, and hands clasped, enjoying the beautiful weather until I float away into what feels like a dream.
The light is warm and bright and I let myself dance toward it, as invisible fingers pull invisible strings, tugging me closer and closer until I whirl into the light itself and become one with it, the edges of me evaporating into the nucleus of its brilliance.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I open my eyes to find Alyss hovering over me, a frown on her face. “What’s wrong?” I ask, blinking.
Her frown deepens. “Who the bloody hell are you?”
* * *
Deer Dillin, Thanke yu for the swing set. I kan go relly high now. Im nut afrayed anny more.
DYLAN
A few days before Thanksgiving, I found out that Christina has stopped screaming. She still won’t allow anyone to come near her other than Alyss, but at least it’s something. I’m going to take whatever wins I can get.
I have so much to learn. So much to figure out. There are more people inside me that I don’t know, like Vincent, who recently started talking to me. And there are the people in the basement. I have to do something about them. I have to help Christina. I have to do right by Lannie and Kaz and even Scratch.
It’s weird, Scratch being gone but not gone, here but not here. I didn’t really get the chance to know Dali very well, so her loss hasn’t hit me the same way.
The new alter hasn’t told me her name yet. She hasn’t said much of anything. I’ve written to her in our journal, but no response as of this morning. I wouldn’t even know about her if Alyss hadn’t told me. It freaked her out, finding someone new where Scratch and Dali had been sitting a few minutes before.
