Broken Hopes Sounds like Bass Drum - Part Two

Like every year, February comes to an end this time too and, in doing so, it focuses on a slightly more special day than the others: my eighteenth birthday, as well as the moment when, finally, also for the State, I will have full power over my life. Not that there is anything special in the plans waiting for me, of course, but at least I can drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes without Catherine being able to pull the "age factor" in the middle.

I have waited for this day with far too much impatience and now, since not only this new decision-making power over existence that awaits me, I am even more agitated.

Nanny Josephine, from the bottom of my mattress, looks at me cautiously. She's observing every detail of her favorite granddaughter as if she were a doctor studying her suture and, occasionally, just to make me understand that she is still present, she stretches her fingers to fix the hem of the skirt that does not seem to want to stay in its place, curling a little towards the inside of the thighs - that's why I have very few in the closet.

«You have a strange butt» she mutters after yet another attempt to smooth the fabric.

Looking at her from the mirror, I try to make her notice how unwelcome that comment is and she, careless, continues: «I can't understand if it's a problem of the size of the buttocks, the shape, or the width of the hips...» this time she tries to pull, lowering the waist and put more cloth between the curl and the curve of my buttocks.

«Really?» I ask at the mercy of the upheaval. Of all the members of the family, she should be the most understanding and loving, on the other hand, she is only the most outspoken - and with the excuse of old age and the possible task of senile dementia she allows herself completely out of place comments: «Josephine , do you realize that grandmothers should support, rather than demoralize?» I would have expected such a demoralizing comment from all the women of the Raven family except her, yet she is the only one to make it.

Grandmother raises her chin and lowers the red glasses to the tip of the nose, then, obviously confused, tries to decipher my expression: «What did I say wrong? Some guys like big booty. Doesn't him?»

And the embarrassment that catches me with this question matches her frame.

«You didn't really ask it...»

«Come on, Jaqueline! I have known Seth since he had just taken the diaper off, it won't be this information that changes my opinion of him!»

But as soon as she pronounces his name I rush to plug her mouth. Nobody has to hear it, especially Liz or mom: one because of the resentment developed towards him, the other because of the propensity to gossip that would make her say everything to Jace - and for now it's better that he doesn't know that I hang out with his friendly enemy. Josephine, like Charlie, has instead been made aware of everything, but only on one condition: no mention of the matter with anyone who can reveal it to my brother.

I urge her to keep silent and she, bringing her hands up to the sky, mutters something that I struggle to understand.

«Don't say that name» I say, releasing the grip and turning back to the mirror. The reflection that I see, after my grandmother's comment, convinces me even less, yet I have no idea what may replace the chosen combination - above all because now I fear that any garment could highlight this "big ass" of mine.

«Je ne comprends pas quel est le problème» this time I don't stare at her, too busy to scrutinize the way the fabric falls.

«Paresse, grand-mère. Si je faisais du sport, je n'aurais pas ce gros cul».

But that's not what she's talking about; so, abandoning my bed, grandmother approaches and grabs my shoulders. To divide us there are the few centimeters of one heel higher than the other, so she bends a little and, with her face next to mine, she smiles: «Je parlis de lui, chèrie. He's a nice guy, the one you have a crush on since I can remember. How bad is it if you become his girlfriend? If I were thirty years younger I would court him too!»

I bite my lip.

I spoke to Josephine about Seth because she is the only one in this house that I was sure would support me, yet if on the one hand I felt confident in confessing what was going on between me and him, I still do not feel ready to tell her why he has to remain a secret - I don't think she would like to know.

If I am her favorite granddaughter, Jace is almost like a son and the certainty that between the two she prefers me is not something I would put my hand on the fire for.

The entrance bell rings and suddenly my heart leaps in the throat at the idea that the time has come to get off. Yes, I made myself beautiful, I styled my hair and put on some of the most feminine clothes that my wardrobe could boast, yet I'm not sure I'm ready to meet Seth.

For this occasion, for the formalization of my entry into the world of adults, Morgenstern wanted to organize a real date, like those seen in the movies - but I don't think I'm up to any of the protagonists who pass in TV and not even anyone else that has been able to boast such an exit with him. I have soft legs, a dry throat and the anxiety that each of the defects that Josephine has listed during the preparation is noted, yet there is no escape from this situation.

He is here - and I have to get off.

Grandmother sticks her tongue out, then pinches my butt: «If you don't hurry, I'll go meet him» and immediately sneak to the entrance.

Is she serious?

I remain motionless for a moment staring at her back which turns towards the stairs and, when I realize that she is seriously going to open for me, I step forward trying to tackle her.

Nothing must go wrong, not even a fool like this.

So, beating my feet violently on the steps, I slide her under the arm with which she holds herself to the handrail, I make a half jump and I almost go crashing into the door.

Only this running attempt ruined my hairstyle and threatened me with a heart attack.

Josephine laughs behind me, mimics a few ambiguous sentences that I urge her not to continue to avoid further embarrassment and, trying to counter the tension and take on a less breathless expression, I decide to open at the new ringing of the bell.

The smile I make, however, dies quickly, crushed violently by surprise. Who I face is far from being Seth, although his presence would have been equally welcome at a different time.

Charlie looks at me with some perplexity, studying what he has in front of him as if he were seeing it for the first time, then he smiles: «Since when do you make yourself so cute for a movie? You know that the lights are off in the cinema, do you?» He asks, visibly uncomfortable, unable to explain my curate - a detail that at the moment I wouldn't even know how to justify. And anxiety assails me. The more I look at him, beaming like the sun on this cold winter evening, the more the awareness of having forgotten something fundamental becomes concrete. It takes a few moments before the mind, hitherto too overshadowed by the idyllic images of the imminent appointment with Morgenstern, empties itself, bringing to light some vague memories of the previous days.

I settle a pale lock behind my ear, then I close in the shoulders like a hedgehog trying to defend itself from what is coming, even if it is still not sure what it is. A more and more sentient part of me knows that I have done yet another bullshit, that I have once again behaved like the worst of the friends, yet I have no idea how to prevent the worst that I feel advancing. I should look for words, solutions, gestures with which to buffer the ever closer and still poorly defined damage, even if the conscience suggests to me that perhaps, the afternoon I was with him, what he asked me while he was lying on my thights was nothing of what I had thought. In all likelihood Charlie must have asked me if this year, despite everything, we would have celebrated together, just like past birthdays.

And I said yes, when I actually had to say no.

«Wait...» he suddenly frowns. His sky-colored eyes darken a bit. Clouds full of rain are covering his surprise, the joy of carving out a few hours together, as in the old days.

He's not stupid, I know it too well. Regardless of whether he always looks like the slightly naive one, lost in his world of smiles and sheet music, Benton is catchy - and I think he now understands. My heart tightens in a grip so stiff as to prevent it from beating regularly, just as my throat dries up, becoming dry ground for words that do not know how to survive outside of my mind. «Let me guess, you weren't listening to me on Monday...» his is not a question, but rather a finding that I can't deny - it is impossible, since he's right. Lost to find out what happened to Sharon, the only one who could really threaten my new relationship with Seth, I paid no attention to what was around me and that I should have treated with more respect, given how much it means to me - and perhaps it was the security of his presence, the certainty of having clarified any misunderstanding that arose between us that fooled me.

I reach out a hand in an attempt to grab his, so to hold him to me and not feel him slip away along with the current of disappointment, but he puts his palms in the pockets and keeps his eyes away from mine, albeit somewhere else on my face. A less-than-pleasant atmosphere fills the porch and again I feel the emptiness growing between us, as if the failed attempt to approach him had pushed him away instead.

I am a horrible person.

«Charlie, I...»

He steps back, then pulls a smile. Artificial. So untrue that I can clearly see the effort he is making to not show me the bitterness he is fighting against; but I know it's there, I feel it scratching. For him, friends are worth as much as brothers, especially if it is us - and we have all excluded him in one way or another. Jace is far away, in that chaotic Paris that has incorporated him without asking anyone's permission, while Seth and I have approached ourself so much that we can no longer involve him as before. It's a bit like going back a couple of months, when I was the one to be eclipsed, yet I know this time it's different, it's more galvanizing.

«You have other plans, don't worry, I understand it» he whispers, glancing at the bottom of the path, where the shadows leave room only for the reflections of the street lamps on the chromed bodies of the cars. While he's trying to console me I can not help but think that this does not change the situation. He can understand, of course, yet it doesn't make me a less guilty criminal: a friend wouldn't behave this way. Jace would never have done it and everyones would have expected it to be the same for me... but I am not him and in the last few weeks I have amply given the proof, discovering myself dominated by selfish desires that I cannot deny myself.

«I guess you'll be with Seth» he continues, wetting his lips and lowering the head on his worn-out Vans that seem to quiver, as if to indicate the conflicting desire to go away but also to stay.

I nod.

«Does he take you to some nice place?» His chin moves, indicating the way I dressed up for the evening - a more unique than rare event, given the neat makeup and short skirt that no one would have ever imagined seeing me wearing.

I open my mouth to answer, to tell him something vague that even I cannot define, but the voice that comes out is not mine: «Well, at this point I will have to!» Here is Seth, as recalled by the anxieties and guilt that are subjugating me, he appears from the bottom of the path, advancing slowly as he squeezes himself into the dark coat. On his face there is a smile so radiant that I struggle to believe it is addressed to me, yet it is undeniable that it is, since his eyes do not seem intent on moving away from what he has in front of him.

When he reaches us, regardless of the tension, he gives Charlie a brotherly pat and a little chatter of circumstance. It seems he did not realize anything, yet I strongly doubt that our sad face have escaped his eyes.

«Did you come to wish her well? Hell, what a gentleman!» Morgenstern's expression becomes more curious, leaving room for the worst comment he could make in a circumstance like this.

Yes, he went to wish me well and to take me out for an evening at the cinema that will see neither beginning nor end - and I forgot it, because when you are in the middle I lose track of everything.

Benton shrugs, pretends not to give weight to being put aside. Again. For him. But I see the way he tries to avoid his gaze, how his jaw contracts just to not betray the frustration he feels growing inside, like when at a skate competition he misses the trick for which he trained whole days. I know him enough to recognize even those little signs, but apart from being perched on the door jamb to bite my tongue and feel like a traitor I don't know what to do.

What if I screw up Seth's plans to be together, all three like last year and the one before? It would certainly be a way not to disappoint Charlie, but what is my boyfriend supposed to react? Maybe, if he proposed it, things would fall into place by themselves, wouldn't they?

Morgenstern, however, does not put forward any proposal, remains still to listen.

«Here, tell my mother that too. At least if you point it out she'll believe it» he laughs, even if only with his lips.

«I'd say Jay is the most reliable of us. Now that she's eighteen, who would underestimates her?»

Charlie gives me a sweet glance, then goes back to Seth, raising his eyebrows: «Well, my sweethearts, I think it's time to leave you alone! Enjoy the evening and ...» he pauses, still wetting his lips. This time the sentence is addressed only to one of us and in the tone in which he pronounce it, for a moment, it seems to hear Jace: «you already know».

Another pat, a moment of hesitation.

«Best wishes, little raven» he says without looking at me, as if he were thoughtless. This time I did terrible. I have to make up for this mistake, make him understand that it was just a misunderstanding; so I move a step out of the door, mimicking a half chase: «See you tomorrow, right?»

His hand rises to the sky as a greeting, but he does not give me confirmation and, before I can insist or tackle him in any way, Morgenstern pulls me to steal a kiss and a smile.

«That idiot stole my line, Raven».