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“Because it's easier than-” Than what? She turned away from him, pressing herself against the wall, trying to think, trying to find something coherent to say.
It was all such a mess, everything to do with Charlie. First there was her mother's craziness and her father's indifference, and then the cruelty of the kids at school… and then when all that was behind her, she had thought I’ll learn how to make everything better for him, but nothing she learned had ever made any difference-and the truth was she hadn't helped him at all.
She hadn't helped him at all.
God, it hurt to think that. She had spent the last six years of her life studying how to help Charlie, but he was still stuck at home watching TV and eating too much, isolated from the real world. For all her schooling and good intentions, she hadn't done a thing for Charlie. Her mother always got in her way when she tried to change things, and eventually she had given up even trying.
It was too awful to think about-all that failure, all that giving up. It was so much easier to blame everyone else-her mother for not getting it, her father for not caring, her sister for ru
But what had she ever done to make Charlie's life better? Who had hurt him more in the end-some strangers who made fun of him or the sister he loved who used to hit him and scream at him because he couldn't change? What good had any of her promises or hopes or anger actually done him?
“Oh, shit,” Sari said. She hid her face in her hands, her body crouched against the wall. “I can't do this.”
“Do what?”
Through her fingers, she said, “I can't just suddenly change the way I’ve been thinking about things.”
“Why not?” Jason was suddenly standing very close to her. “Didn't you tell me the brain is very good at reshaping itself? Ever hear of a little thing called neural plasticity?”
Sari let her hands drop to her sides. “If you tell me to lay down some new neural pathways, I swear I’ll-”
“You'll what?” Jason said.
“I don't know,” she said and wouldn't look at him. “It's just not that easy.”
“We could schedule some interventions for you, if it would help,” Jason said. “I know some excellent therapists.” He took her hand. She looked at their fingers and saw how quickly hers twined around his. “I know how hard it is to change the way you think about things,” he said. “Do you know how long I’ve clung to the idea that I’m going to make it in Hollywood? That I’m some undiscovered genius? And meanwhile I’m just a part-time kids basketball coach whose wife-soon to be ex-wife- has to support him. I need to lay down some new pathways of my own.” He rubbed his thumb softly against the rounded part of her palm. “You could help me, Sari. You're good with all this brain-retraining stuff. It's what you do.”
“Why would you want me to help you?” Sari said. “I was mean to you and Zack. You said so yourself.”
“Yeah, you were,” he said. “And back in high school, I used to laugh when someone tripped a retard.”
“So what are you saying? That we're even?”
“Not that. More like… people can act badly and not be bad people.”
“How do you tell the difference? Between a bad person and one who just acts badly? Because I’ve been trying so hard to figure that one out and I can't. I cant.”
“You just know,” he said. “One pretty good indication is when the person devotes her life to helping other people. Truly bad people don't usually do that. Not unless it pays well.”
“It doesn't pay well,” Sari said. She couldn't look at him, just kept focusing on their hands-on how her fingers were clutching on to his. She felt choked with hope and dread and uncertainty.
“Also,” he said, “when someone kisses you and it's all you can think about for weeks and weeks, you just can't believe that person is bad.”
“Bad people can be good kissers.”
“I’m sorry.” Jason pulled on her hand, gently reeling her in toward him. “I just can't think of you as evil. God knows I’ve tried, Sari. For the past few days, all I’ve done is try. I’ve been so pissed off at you… But I keep seeing you throw your arms around Zack because he said ‘more’ one day, and everything else gets lost.”
“I know,” she said and extricated her hand from his, but only so she could slide it up his arm, feel the muscle there and the warmth of his skin. “I’ve been trying even harder to hate you. To keep hating you, I mean.” She was whispering now, not to be quiet, but because it was so hard to find the breath to speak out loud. “But you keep making it almost impossible.”
“Sari,” he said, and it was a question, only she didn't try to answer it, just pushed herself against him, and maybe that was answer enough. She could feel his whole body sigh with relief. She buried her face in his chest. She only came up to his shoulders, and it felt good to just collapse onto him, to let someone else hold her up for a change. “Sari,” he said again. His fingers went to her hair and he stroked it gently for a moment, but then he caught some of the short strands in his fingers and tugged it back-not painfully, but firmly enough to force her head back and make her look at him. His face-his so-handsome-it-hurt-to-look-at-him face-was taut and anxious, and his voice was hoarse when he said, “If this is another one of those times when you're playing with me-if you're going to turn on me again like you did last time-”
“And the time before,” she said, ashamed, remembering how every time she started to like him and let him see that she liked him, she'd force herself to be cold and angry with him again, with no explanation or apology. “I won't. I swear I won't. And I wasn't playing with you before-I was fighting with myself.”
“That's not what it felt like from where I was standing.”
“I was pretty awful, wasn't I?”
“Just a little cruel.”
“Here I was thinking you were the bad guy,” Sari said. “And it was me all along.”
“Yeah.” He kept the firm hold on her hair, kept her head pulled back, his eyes studying her face. “But I forgive you.” He bent over her. There was enough anger left in him that his kiss was hard and violent.
She was instantly aroused, instantly drawn under. She had been waiting a long time for this, she realized, and her body was already tightening with the lust she'd been trying to ignore for all that time. This time, there was no holding back, no wondering whether she was making a mistake. All she wanted was to be this close to him forever, always feeling his mouth and body demanding hers and hers demanding his.
And then someone cleared her throat just a few feet away.
They sprang apart.
“Hi,” Ellen said, standing in the doorway, holding her briefcase across her chest like a shield. “Am I interrupting? Or am I allowed to come into my own office?”
“Oh, God,” Sari said. She felt her hot face flush even hotter.
“I’m so sorry, Ellen. Oh, God.”
Ellen came into the room. “Hey, curie,” she said, holding her free hand out to Zack, who was still lying on his back on the floor. “How about standing up now? It's time to go home. Past time, I’d say,” she added with a sharp look at Sari as she hauled Zack to his feet and extended his hand to his father.
“Come over later?” Jason whispered to Sari as he slipped by her on the way to taking Zack's hand.
Sari nodded. She wasn't capable of speaking at the moment.
“Really?” he said.
She nodded again, and he led Zack to the door. “Sorry,” he said to Ellen. “We never meant to-”
“Just please take your child and go,” Ellen said. Jason hesitated, looking at Sari, who gestured with her head toward the door, and he nodded and left. Ellen dropped her briefcase on the floor and turned to Sari. “Tell me why I shouldn't strangle you.”
Sari forced a smile. “You'd be short a clinician?”
“That's the only reason I’m not. But if you ever do anything like this again-”