***This is an excerpt from Embracing Calla by Tamara Mapstead.
Prologue: Benedict
May 1st, 2019
These silver keys in the palm of my hand are the biggest mistake of my life. Did I drive five hundred miles for these two tiny keys? I don’t remember getting in the car, but I guess I did. For the first time in my life, I’m alone.
Or at least I think I am until I hear, “Let’s go see your new apartment, dude.”
When did you get here? I left everything in San Diego, and he would’ve been the first thing I left there. “Where did you come from, York?” I ask. I don’t even care. I’m sure he has another random excuse.
“Um, Ben, I’ve been here with you. I even drove. Just helping you get settled in.” He sighs. “Why are you calling me ‘York?’”
The little sunlight left in my soul is freckling the wall along the dark hall. “I’m good. You can leave now.” I make it to the elevator door. Not sure what to do right now, I stare at the closed doors, taking their refusal to open as a sign that I should leave. I’m not supposed to be here.
“Ben, push the button.”
I don’t even know where home is right now. I lived with my parents in San Diego for twenty-eight years, but that wasn’t working out anymore. I needed to move out on my own. All my life I’ve been in someone’s shadow, and I need to figure things out for myself. Plus, everyone I know is happy, and I’m far from that.
“Jesus, Ben.” That parasite pushes the up button for the elevator.
“Fuck you, York. Go away. Why did you do that?” I wish he would leave.
“I’m holding your box with your computer and want to put it down, Anderson!“ The doors open and the dim light inside is flickering. He stands in the dark cave holding my box. “Jesus, come on.”
I guess it wasn’t a sign to leave. I needed to just push the button. Why did he call me by my last name?
I mindlessly follow him when the elevator bell dings. We halt at 331. I hate that number. I hate these keys.
“Seriously, Ben?” He grabs the keys from my hand, unlocking the door.
I hate you. The faux scent of lemon cleaner wafts past me as he swiftly walks in.
“This place is nice, a bachelor’s pad.”
I hate it.
Thud!
I hate that duffle bag. I’m walking into this place, getting the life sucked out of me. Why did I do this? It was supposed to make things better, but nothing has changed. I’m still miserable, and I’m still all alone. I feel the air leaving my body. I can’t take it anymore. I’ll wait for a sign to tell me why I thought this was a good idea. The hard surface of the floor hurts my whole body when I fall.
“Dude, what the fuck?”
Did he just kick me?
“You tripped me. Why are you on the floor?”
I can do what I want, dumbass.
He opens the blinds. Don’t do that. Why doesn’t he ever listen to me? I stand up to close them. I don’t want them to be open. Respect my space.
“Ben, I need to see what I’m doing, since you’re not going to do shit. I think we should go for a walk and check out the neighborhood.”
“I’ll do that another day. Get out!” I hate this neighborhood. He opens the blinds again. Dammit!
I don’t know what he’s shuffling through, but I wish he would leave. I don’t want him here anymore. Go back to San Diego and stay there, you homewrecker, prying into my family and destroying everything—
“Look, Benny, it’s us!”
Benny?
“I’m making it feel like home for you.” He sets a framed photo of us on the floor in front of my face.
Don’t call me Benny. I hate ‘Benny.’ The image is from my college graduation. Mister Happy Pants over there knows this was my graduation. Why is he even invading my accomplished education?
“Look how happy you are, Benny.”
“Don’t call me Benny.” Happy? What’s happiness? Not that photo. “What’s so happy about this?” I hate this photo.
“You graduated, and you’re smiling.”
Oh, I’m smiling? Was that the last time I did that?
Who’s that guy? That tall, awkward guy? Those stupid moles, what an idiot. That nose, too big for his face. The eyes, dark, empty holes. What a dick! He does have excellent hair, though. I hate that guy. I throw the picture against the wall, making the glass shatter.
“Jesus, Ben! Did you throw that?”
No.
“We need to get you out of here.”
Yes, you need to get out of here.
“Come on, get your sorry ass up. Let’s go look around.”
No.
“Look, Benedict! Stop being a dick. You decided to move to Mountain View, so let’s see what it offers.”
Nothing.
“It’s sunny today. That’s something different for the first day of May. No more ‘May Gray’ for you, Ben.”
“I wish it wasn’t sunny,” I mumble.
“Then you should’ve stayed in San Diego, motherfucker.”
I force myself to get off the floor and grab the apartment keys of despair, following him outside.
Ugh, I hate trees. Standing tall, looking all beautiful and shit. “Showoffs.” I frown.
“What was that, Ben?”
I hate you.
“Look, there’s a park.”
Am I supposed to care? Well, surprise, I don’t.
“So, Google Maps says there’s a coffee shop nearby called Amy’s.”
I hate coffee.
“Let’s check that out.”
I continue to follow him. Why am I doing that?
Great, there’s a group of girls doing yoga on the grassy knoll in the park. I knew there was nothing to offer here. One’s dramatically adjusting her breasts, drawing attention to her hourglass figure. The other women are staring, swooning over York. I hate desperate girls.
His game is set on high charm right now. “Hey, ladies!”
Did he wink?
Tits girl has a high-pitched voice. “Hello, I’m Sabrina.”
Stab me in my ears.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sebastian, and this is Ben. We’re new here.”
I’m new here; you need to leave.
The dog barking in the background sounds better than her. I need this to end. “He likes dick, Sabrina.” I walk past them. I’m sure I crushed his ego.
“Jesus, Ben, what’s wrong with you?”
You. Go back to San Diego.
“What happened to you?”
“Look, Amy’s.” I point at the shitty coffee shop, stomping in the direction of a tiny building nestled in the trees. The tables outside are lined up in a row, perfectly straight, contrasting with the placement of the chairs. A group of hipsters, coffees in hand, clutter the entrance door.
“What happened to you? These past three years, and now this random move? What’s happening, Ben?” I turn and walk to the coffee shop. “Ben?” He grabs my arm.
Don’t touch me. “Look, asshole, I didn’t ask you to come here, so leave me the fuck alone.” I continue inside the coffee shop, leaving him outside. Why is he even here? Why am I standing in line for coffee? I didn’t even want to come here. There are people ahead of me. I hate waiting.
Maybe I should go back to San Diego, stay in my bedroom, and never come out. At least it’s free, instead of $3,400 per month, since I’m going to be miserable wherever I am. What was I thinking? Why did I sign a lease in an entirely different city? What did I think was going to be different?
What’s that? That scent? “Oh my God,” I say under my breath. I close my eyes. That dreamy scent. I look around. Is it the pastries? It isn’t coffee. Is it chocolate? Floral? I don’t know, but it’s the most fantastic scent in the world. I’m obsessed. It has to be perfume, but there are many people in here right now. I take a deep breath to breathe it all in, closing my eyes. “Wow,” I sigh. “Oomph!” I hate—
“Sorry, buddy.” The person behind me apologizes for bumping into me, but I don’t care. I found the scent. She turns and she takes my breath away…
