The Smell of Lilies

Chapter 22 - Kel P.O.V.

Wine tastes really good at one in the afternoon. Add some See's molasses chips into the mix and you've got your standard heartbreak formula.

After my sister returned, I cried. Right into her arms I went. I didn't want to and I felt clueless, but for as long as I could remember, my emotional toolbox is hardwired right to my tear ducts. Viola, here comes the rain.

But what's great about Leila is that she doesn't tell you to "Suck it up" or "Stop crying, shhh, it's going to be okay". Because she doesn't believe in false hope. Leila's great because she lets you cry and have it out. And she'll cry with you, which helps make it not so embarrassing.

Another genuine aspect of my sister that would sometimes make me laugh is that she knows exactly what wine and chocolate to bring. Pinot Noir...The Heart Break Grape of California.

We got through half the bottle in an hour. Two boxes of molasses chips. And it felt great.

Liela didn't push me to talking about anything either, she just does her job of being a sister and listens while I babble on about some stranger I met who I happened to go to school with and who just so happened to take me in because he's a nice guy. And all it took was a week of him, his sweetness that he doesn't admit to, his protectiveness over me, his ability to listen to what I have to say and respond in a way that makes my heart melt, his overwhelming temper trap, his determination to be as tough as possible...All it took was a week for me to fall for him.

Goddamn him.

Liela refilled my glass. Bless her.

"This stuff doesn't just happen, though," I mumbled through tears. "It's so pathetic. Maybe I'm just kidding myself. There goes Kel, running wild with her desperateness again...I'll probably just be better off alone anyway."

"Don't say that," Liela sighed. "That, right there, is what's pathetic. Don't automatically put yourself down like that. You're so much better, okay? So much better."

I tried to believe her. It helped a little.

"I have a wonderful idea," she said, wiping the tears from my face and her own. "We need to get out of here. Let's go back to the bowling alley, like we used to with Drew. We can pretend the balls are Brandon's head with the eyes picked out and nose disintegrated. We'll throw it as hard as we can to hit the pins."

I laughed. "You're morbid."

She smiled and said in a high voice, "That's what they call me!"

"It's also why I love you."

Drew met as at the town's bowling alley. It was an old alley that we all used to go to a few years back. They had upgraded their screens but for the most part it was still the small town get away we all loved. It also made for a good distraction.

I'm back to where I started, it seems. Finding distractions.

Drew gave me a tight squeeze and kiss on the head. I'm glad he's with Liela; he's more than good for her.

We played three games, each of us winning one. Leila and I laughed when she picked up the biggest bowling ball in the house, having to use both arms to carry it, and started jabbing a pretend knife in a hole as if it were Brandon's eye.

There's something about things smashing in disruption that carries some sort of therapeutic energy to sooth the broken soul. Each time I bowled, my goal was to make a bigger clash than before. And if that meant hitting the gutter at full speed, then so be it.

Right now, smashing and crashing objects are essential. Leila must understand heartbreak, because she sure knows how to take care of one.