Breathing In

7

"What are you doing here, Rebecca. I thought you never wanted to see your father again." My dad spits out. He is filled with rage, that much I can see. He looks at me and waits for an answer. After some time of silence, I start to quietly talk.

"I didn't think so either. Char and Josh are the ones who convinced me to see you. Apparently Josh thinks you're great, and I guess part of me is here to prove him wrong, because I know what you are, what you do. You lied." I say. I look at his face, and I can see his face starting to melt. I continue, raising my voice a little, "You lied, said you invented a cure for cancer. You lied to my face. I never wanted to see you again, so I left, just like Mom did. At least I came back."

Based on the shock his face reveals, I can tell I hit the right place. As I start to say more, he cuts me off.

"Your mom died because I couldn't get to her in time. I threw myself into my work after that. Did you know that your mom was helping me with my research? I asked her to record what she was feeling, and she did. I KNOW SHE DIED BECAUSE I was not FAST ENOUGH." My dad starts to raise his voice.

I raise my voice to match his. "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. You couldn't even give the glory to someone else because you had something to prove! Someone else invented the cure What did you do, kill him?"

"NO. Do you want to know who invented the cure, Rebecca? Do you?" My dad says.

"Yes." I say, my voice low, almost a whisper.

"Rebecca. Ecco. My brother, your uncle, Curtis. He did it. And he died because of it." My father turns away after that, he just walks out, leaving me with questions swirling in my head. Curtis died because of a cure my dad said he invented? How could that be?

I head upstairs, to find my bedroom. As I pass the familiar railing me and James used to slide down, my face falls. I see rooms, most of which haven't changed at all. I see the familiar library, where I used to spend hours a day, getting lost in the stories. I see the study, where a tutor, or usually my mother, would teach me to notice things, and my multiplication tables. I see the bedroom where my mother died, one of the only ones that has changed.

Finally, I pass my old bedroom, and seeing no suitcases by the door, I crack open the door. I look at my old room. It is is stale with the smell of dust, and everything is exactly as I left it. Clothes piled in my dresser, my bed unmade. The same posters on the wall of bands I loved as a kid, who I finally went and saw live once my father couldn't stop me.

I look at the feelings this old room gives me, and looking outside to make sure no one can see, I start to tear down each poster, throw away each pair of shoes. With each thing I get rid of, I think to myself, this is for a new start. Today, I learned something new about my dad.

I learned that my dad stole an invention from his brother. And now, his brother is dead. I continue emptying the room, including the floral curtains, and fluffy blue rug. I am crumpling an old poster of Taylor Swift, when Char walks in.

"Hey, James said I could find you here. I wanted to talk." She says, softly, like she's afraid I'll break. "We heard some of the fight with your dad. Are you okay? Well, obviously not, but anyways."

"Yeah. What is it you wanted to talk about, anything besides what just happened, I need to get my mind off of it." I say. I know I am dreading having to talk about what she said outside.

"I wanted to talk about what I said."

I sigh. I jinxed it. Good job, Becca.

"I meant what I said, I'm not going to take it back. You make such a big, or rather little, deal about all of this. You have a huge house, a boyfriend, and some great friends. You may not like that your dad lied, but you have to admit, you got a big house out of it. And, you met me and Josh." Char says.

"I, well." I say, even though I can't find the words to say that I know. I can't find the words to say that I wish I just had a small house, no parents, and just friends. I can't deny some good has come out of it, but I can't ever be happy with what I have because of what I do not want.

"Look, Becca. We're great friends, right?" Char says, "And I do have something else I want to talk to you about."

"Oh, you want to talk about James." I say with a chuckle. "He's adorable, you should go for it."

Char blushes and says "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, but it's okay, he'll never know." I say. I have been best friends with James for my whole childhood, and he was pretty oblivious to many girls who liked him. I did know when he thought another girl was pretty, though.

"Anything else you want to talk about, Char?" I ask, because I can see a question on the tip of her tongue.

"Well, I wanted to ask about, what was his name, Ash. We saw him at the gas station?" She asks.

"Oh, Ashton is James' brother who left for college and high school, that's all." I say. I know she knows there is more to the story, and I dan't want her to ask what she asks next.

"That's all? Yeah right. Dish." She says, and we are suddenly lost in a whirlwind of gossip from 3 years ago. We talk about people at school, and I feel comfortable sitting in my old room, for once.