Page 39 of Beneath the Helmet
“When will everyone stop talking to me like I’m a child,” I yell at her. “Ben’s been my best friend since we were kids. Youknowhim. Plus, I’m old enough to have boys in my room if I want.”
She turns the car off in the driveway but makes no move to get out. She releases a deep sigh, running her fingers through her hair and frowns at me in disappointment, stirring my anger further.
“What’s with that look?” I snap.
I’ve never talked to her like this before in my life, but I can’t help it. People need to let me grow up. I can’t always be who they want me to be. That innocent girl who always does what she’s told and keeps to herself… I’m not her anymore. I don’t know what happened to her, but she’s gone, and I’m glad for it.
“Charlotte, stop it,” she snaps back.
I sit back and cross my arms across my chest defiantly, looking forward to avoid her heated stare.
“Yes, you are eighteen, but that doesnotgive you the right to disrespect your father and I inourhouse. Yes,you are an adult by societal standards, but you still need to respect the fact that we pay for the clothes on your back, feed you and provide a roof over your head. We are not to adhere to your rules, but you to ours. I’ve stood up for you to your father lately, but don’t push me away. Don’t force me to set stricter boundaries in place because you feel entitled. I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, and I don’t care. No boys are allowed in your room at any point. You will not talk to either I or your father like this anymore. Once you are away at college, you can do as you like. Do you understand?”
Sadness rings in her voice behind the strict tone, like quiet choked sobs are being held back. She always hates it when we fight, and this is definitely the worst fight we’ve had. Great, I’ve made my mother cry. Am I turning into a bad daughter? A bad friend? A bad person?
I nod, silently agreeing to her conditions without looking at her and get out of the car to go up to my room. This crushing weight on my chest and knot in my throat is unbearable. I need to talk to someone other than my parents right now or I’m going to die inside.
There’s only one person who can make me feel better in this moment. I don’t care what’s happening between us, I need him right now. I needusright now.
The first ring barely finishes before he answers.
“Hey.”
That’s all it takes. Tears fall down my cheeks as labored breaths break through between sobs.
“Char, what’s wrong? What happened?” His voice laces with concern.
In between hitched breaths, I tell him everything. He stays quiet until I’m completely done and all that can be heard over the phone is my soft sobs.
“You arenota horrible person, Char. You and your family are just going through growing pains. I’m dealing with similar stuff on my end with my parents. It’s not easy shedding your old life for a new one, but it’ll be worth it. I guarantee when you fully grow into your new self that you’ll still be the great person you are, and you and your parents will be back to being your regular old selves. You just have to understand that growth and change can’t occur without pain. It sucks but it’s reality. You just have to stick it out and push through the good and the bad. Don’t set too many expectations and ride the waves. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
A slight whimper slips out as the cries lesson, relief washing over me. He’s right. I’m going to be okay. My parents and I are going to be okay. I’m going to change and grow as I get older; it’s just going to be way more painful than I want it to be.
“Thanks, Ben. You always know what to say. And thank you for picking up the phone even though we’ve fought a lot lately…” I pause. “We’re going to be okay too, right?”
A motorcycle revs outside the house, drowning out the rest of my sentence. No way he rode over here while we were on the phone. I race downstairs, still clutching the phone in my hand with him on the call and fling open the door.
There he is in his black leather bike pants and red bike jacket, kicking down the kickstand on his red and black Ducati. He lifts his leg over the seat and gives me a simple wave as he leans on his bike. Before he gets the chance to unhook his helmet, I’m already wrapped around his torso, giving him the biggest hug and melting into him for comfort.
His muffled chuckle vibrates my chest as he hugs me back, setting his head, still in the bike helmet, on top of mine and squeezing me back just as tightly. I bury my face in his jacket, his scent of mint and leather calming me, relaxing my body bit by bit.
“It’s okay,” he says, stroking my back softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
I squeeze him harder, afraid that if I let go, he’ll disappear.
Time stops as we hold each other. His easy breaths keep the rhythm steady to calm my own. I don’t keep track of how long we embrace, and he’s kind enough to keep holding me until I loosen my grip.
Moving out from under his helmet, I flip his vizor up to see his eyes, my left hand still on his waist and his on mine. His eyes crease, twinkling before softening as he raises his hand up and grazes the tears left running down my cheeks. The grip patches on his motorcycle gloves are like sandpaper, making small claims into my skin with each caring stroke of his thumb.
I grab his gloved hand and smush it against my cheek, closing my eyes, thanking him silently for being exactly what I need right now. He pulls his hand away, tilting my chin up to look into his eyes. They’re back to being playful as he slowly moves his hand toward my nose and gives it a quick flick. I retaliate by slapping his vizor down and letting out a giggle.
“I’m glad I got you to smile,” he chortles. Suddenly, his demeanor changes and even with his face hidden beneath the helmet, my body can sense it.
My cheeks blush heat as a bolt of adrenaline rushes through my body at the lower tone in his voice. I reach to pull his vizor up again, but my phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me. It’s Shirley.
“Girllll, when are you heading over to Jared’s? Wanna ride together?”
Shit.
