The Billion Dollar Dress

[Chapter 6] The Memory of a Note

[6] The Memory of a Note

Lea's POV       {trigger warning}

Walking on air, flaoting on water, spinning through a web of waterfalls. That's what freedom tastes like. I've tasted it, sampled it on my tongue like a sweet dessert that anyone would willingly gobble up. 

The only time I was able to hold onto it, the freedom, for at most an hour or two, was with Brady. I don't think he knew what he was really doing for me. I was fifteen. That day my parents were out of town and Kaylee went to Grandma's in Chicago. I had been safely strapped down with metal chains on my medicine for two years. My mother thought it would be just fine if I stayed home by myself for the weekend. I'm old enough to take care of myself, please and thank you, I'd said.

Old doesn't mean stable. Age doesn't decide {mental} freedom.

So, after my parents left, Brady came over. We watched old and new movies and laughed until our stomach hurt and ate so much pizza (which I normally couldn't have) that I felt like I could throw up. I didn't take any of my pills that day or the day before that or the day before that or the day before that and I didn't plan on taking any the next. 

We went to the basement and found some of my grandparents old bottles of wine. Brady had brought some kind of drink that I didn't know what it was but drank it anyway. I could never describe how good it felt to me, to be breaking so many rules and feeling like a somewhat normal teenager who drank when their parents went out and had sleepovers.

"Normal teens", like the ones in movies and on TV shows, they always were reckless and partying and having fun. I know my parents always wanted me to be more of a normal teen, even though that was beyond impossible for me. I have the feeling their ideas of a normal teenager was a lot different than mine. 

After Brady and I had drunk more than our fair share, we were so {physically} out of it that we could hardly stand up. I felt so free that I could almost cry. For the first time in so long there were no immediate responsibilities, no having to please the parents, no being forced to be quiet and respectful and quit talking about thisorthat.

There's only one part I really, actually, clearly, remember. After who knows how much we had to drink, we sat on the couch, a huge mess of arms and legs together, and tried to watch a movie. We could barely concentrate it. I felt like I could buy the world and keep it then.

Brady had looked over at me. Staring into my eyes, scooting a little bit closer. "Lea-Lea?" He asked, getting my attention.

I laughed and giggled. Now that I think back to it, that stuff made me and Brady both laugh and giggle incessantly. "Yes, Brady-Brady?" I asked back, picking up his hand and playing with it with mine. I liked his fingers, how long they were. I loved how big his hands were, so much larger than my own.

"Do you ever think about falling in love?" He asked, a laughing undertone in his voice that had been in his and mine the whole night.

I stared at the scar on his face, the one that ran from nose to ear. 

Don't you remember what you did there?

Ididntmeantowanttoimsorryithappeneditsallmyfaultandimsorryitwasanaccident-

"Lea-Lea?" Brady broke in, and my eyes travelled from his scar to his blue ocean eyes. I didnt want to look at his face anymore but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Hmm..." I giggled a little. "Sometimes, I think."

Brady nodded his head. He looked back at the movie, like he was debating ending the conversation. He bit his lip. He turned back to me. "Do you ever try to imagine who?"