My Darling Arrow

by Saffron A Kent

  “What are you talking about?” my sister asks, exasperated.

  Arrow hums. “I don’t think you’ll understand. It’s a little above your paygrade. So what do you want?”

  My sister sighs. “A, we really need to talk.”

  “We don’t really need to talk because nobody ever really needs to talk,” he says. “People talk because they want to. And I find that I really don’t want to.”

  “A, please,” she says determinedly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it’s high time. You’ve been ignoring all my calls and texts.”

  “Again, that’s usually a sign when someone really doesn’t want to talk.”

  Sarah shakes her head, her hair shining under the meager light of the moon. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I just want to have a conversation. I just want to figure this out.”

  “Funny. Because I was under the impression that there wasn’t anything left to figure out.”

  “There is and we can do it. I know we can do it. We can do anything, you and me. We’re a team.” She moves closer to him. “I’ve been working very hard for you, A. You have no idea.”

  Even though it’s dark, I still notice the stiffness in Arrow’s body. It’s not just limited to his shoulders now. It has gone on and clutched all his limbs and even his voice.

  “Well, why don’t you give me an idea then?”

  “The whole team has been affected by your actions. We probably won’t even make it to the semi-finals now. Rodriguez is not as good as you and you know that. The team is mad, A. They blame you. Their trust in you and your judgement has been shaken. I’m the only one on your side and I’m putting out fires everywhere,” my sister replies eagerly. “People are still waiting for you to apologize. But I told them to give you time. I told them you’d do the right thing. Because I care about you. I love you. I want you back on the team. I want you back in my life.”

  There’s silence for a few beats after that.

  When my heart is pounding and pounding.

  This is such a private moment.

  I should move away. I should.

  But God, my knees are glued to the floor and my nails have dug their way into the wood, and there’s no way I can free them.

  There’s no way I can move and take my poisoned, encroaching presence away.

  “How’s Ben doing?” Arrow asks. “He know you’re talking to me about getting back together?”

  It’s Sarah’s turn to stiffen now.

  Again, I can’t see very clearly but I can feel it all. I can feel the tightness in her frame.

  “Ben has nothing to do with this,” she says in a low voice.

  Arrow chuckles again. This time it’s lacking in any humor though. “I beg to differ.”

  “A –”

  “Because it didn’t look like that when you were fucking him. Or maybe I’m wrong.”

  At this, I feel a pinch, a sting in my fingers. A sting that becomes a throb and takes over my whole hand.

  Somehow that sting travels to my chest too, making a home there, squeezing my heart tightly. So tightly and painfully that I can’t be sure if I’m hearing things or if this is real.

  If he said what he said.

  A second later, Arrow moves away from the wall and stands up straight. Not only that, he grabs Sarah’s arm and gives it a jerk that I feel on my own body.

  Bending closer to her, he growls, “Answer me, Sarah. Am I wrong?”

  My sister is trying to free herself. “A, please. You’re scaring me, okay? Stop acting like this. Stop being so –”

  “What, angry?” He shakes her again. “The therapist you found me says the same thing. She asks me ‘why are you so angry, Arrow? Describe in your own words what happened to make you so angry.’” He laughs without humor. “Maybe I should tell her. Maybe I should tell her the truth. That one day I accidentally saw my girlfriend’s phone. I accidentally read a message that said I miss you. I miss your tight little body. Can we meet at the same place? When I asked her about it, she lied. She said it was a one-time thing, but as it turns out, it wasn’t. Because later that night I got into her phone again. She hadn’t changed her password that she’d had since college days so it was pretty fucking easy. Maybe she’s dumb or maybe she thought I wouldn’t ever think of checking her phone, I don’t know, but after an hour’s worth of reading, I found out that my girlfriend, who I was planning on proposing to, had been having an affair. She’d been fucking my assistant coach for months. So I’m angry, Dr. Lola Bernstein, because the girl I loved lied to me, not once, not twice, not three times but for months. For months, she was sleeping with my best friend and not once did she think to tell me about it. Yeah, maybe I’ll tell her that next time. Maybe we should tell my mother too. At least then she’ll stop making these pathetic attempts to get us back together.”

  Sarah is crying now; I can hear her quiet sobs.

  I don’t have that luxury though. I can’t cry.

  My sobs have never been quiet. My sobs are howls. They’re loud. They have the power to break eardrums and windowpanes.

  So I’m biting the inside of my cheek to keep my tears from falling.

  I’m biting it until I feel the blood pooling on my tongue, all metallic and warm.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I made a mistake. I’m sorry I never told you. I thought I was protecting you from it. I thought I was doing it for your own good. I didn’t want anything to affect your game, your focus. And I was going to stop, anyway.”

  “But I caught you first, didn’t I?”

  Sarah winces. “I love you, A. I was just trying to spare you the pain. I was trying to protect the life that we’d built. I was trying to protect your heart. I…”

  “You were trying to protect my heart,” Arrow says in a low, rough voice.

  “Yes. Yes, I was. Please.”

  He stares at her for a few seconds before letting her go and stepping away. “I want you gone, understand? Make an excuse and leave before this night ends. And don’t come back here for me.”

  He’s ready to walk. He even takes a couple of steps away from her. But he stops just when he’s about to pass her by.

  “You said you were trying to protect my heart. But you killed it instead.”

  And then he walks away, his long steps lunging and determined, making him look somehow unstoppable.

  Like he’s the wrecking ball that he told me he was, back in his office. A force of nature.

  My Arrow.

  My sun on a warpath.

  As soon as he disappears into the night, I let out my first sob. I turn away from the window and fall on my ass on the floor.

  I sob and sob but have enough presence of mind to cover my mouth, to not alert the whole world that I’m crying.

  That my witchy heart is breaking because someone killed the heart of the boy I love.

  His big, precious, darling heart.

  How could anyone do that to him?

  How could my sister?

  God, my own sister.

  The girl who’s perfect in every sense. How could she do that?

  What was she thinking? I can’t understand it.

  I can’t… believe it, even.

  I hear her footsteps climbing up the stairs and I spring up from my crouched position. I don’t even take the time to wipe off my tears that are still streaming down my face. I whip open the door.

  Standing at the landing, Sarah frowns at the suddenness of it all. “What –”

  “You cheated on him,” I say in a strong voice.

  I almost declare it to the empty, dark hallway.

  She’s taken aback, her frown deepening, and for the first time in my entire life, I don’t like how smooth and flawless her skin is. She was crying a second ago, wasn’t she? Why aren’t there any track marks on her cheeks?

  Why’s she so perfect even in her misery? Why isn’t her world falling apart like mine is?

 
“How did you… What?” she stalls.

  “I overheard your conversation.”

  She loses her frown at this and her lips curl up in a sneer. “You had no right.”

  She’s right.

  I had no right to eavesdrop. It was wrong. But I did it anyway. And I don’t care about right or wrong.

  Not right now.

  Not when my sister has so much explaining to do.

  “You cheated on him,” I repeat.

  Her eyes widen and she marches closer to me. “Can you keep your voice down?”

  “Why?”

  I don’t wanna keep my voice down.

  I wanna scream and shout and kick and punch.

  I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry right now.

  Fire roars in my gut. It roars and raises its head like some kind of an animal.

  A dragon breathing fire.

  Is this what he’s been feeling all this time? This… heat and fury.

  “Well, if you heard everything then you know why.” Then she grabs my arm and digs her nails in my flesh, hissing in my face. “It was a mistake. I don’t want my mistake plastered all over the world. I’m not like you. I don’t revel in bad behavior. I don’t take pride in it.”

  A flush overcomes my face, a flush different than the anger that I’m feeling.

  A flush of embarrassment at my own betrayal against her.

  But I won’t let it overcome me right now.

  I can’t.

  I can curse myself and punish myself later. Right now, I have to be strong. For him.

  For my Arrow.

  “Mistake? Cheating on your boyfriend is not a mistake,” I snap at my sister for the first time.

  I never thought I’d see the day. I never thought I’d be mad at her for anything.

  But then, I never thought she’d betray Arrow like this.

  “Oh, and you know a lot about boyfriends, don’t you?” She grits her teeth.

  “I know about lies. You lied to him. For months. You lied to me when I asked. You lied, Sarah.”

  “So? I don’t owe you the truth, do I? I don’t owe you anything. And I told you to stay out of it. I told you to stop asking questions because this is my life. And it has nothing to do with you but you wouldn’t listen.”

  I suppress the pain in my chest at her callous words. I suppress the urge to scream, I’m your sister. Doesn’t that mean something to you?

  But again, this isn’t about me. It’s about him.

  “What about him? You owed the truth to him, didn’t you?” I ask, my arm going numb in her grip. “How could you do that to him? You slept with his best friend. Not once but for months and you lied about it.”

  “Listen, I don’t need this from you, okay? I don’t need you to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. I did what I did because I was trying to save our love. I lied to him to spare him the hurt and I won’t apologize for it. Once we were married, I would’ve stopped and none of this would’ve happened.”

  I fist my hands, seeing my sister in a new light. “God, are you listening to yourself? You were having an affair with another man. Behind Arrow’s back. He loved you. He loved you so much, Sarah. And you loved him. God, I thought you loved him. I thought your love was this… epic, untouchable thing and I…”

  I was wrong.

  I was so wrong.

  Because how can this be love?

  How can months of lying be love? How can you hurt someone the way Sarah has hurt Arrow if you love them?

  You can’t hurt them.

  That’s the thing about love. You can’t hurt the one you love, not deliberately. Not the way Sarah has done.

  So I was wrong about everything. And Sarah was right. She told me not to meddle and yet, I didn’t listen.

  I meddled and brought them together and now he’s gone somewhere and I’m having this argument with my sister. The sister I thought could do no wrong.

  God, I’ve been so naïve.

  I don’t even know my own sister.

  “You don’t do that to a person you love. You don’t hurt them like that. And he’s hurting. Arrow’s… hurting.”

  You killed my heart…

  My own heart writhes in pain and I have to let out a gasp.

  No wonder he’s been so angry and so changed.

  No wonder he believes he’s empty and that love brings nothing but pain.

  “How do you know he’s hurting?” she asks, her voice gone all thick and accusing.

  “What?”

  She jerks my arm, digs her manicured nails into my flesh. Even through my thick, chunky sweater, I feel like she’ll break my skin.

  “He’s supposed to be just your soccer coach, right? How do you know what he’s going through? Besides, aren’t you a little too concerned about a guy you don’t even like?” She narrows her perfect golden eyes at me. “You don’t like him, isn’t that correct? You’d leave the room every time he’d enter. You wouldn’t even talk to him. Wouldn’t go near him. So since when do you call A Arrow? Or maybe you’ve been lying too.”

  My heart, in all its witchy glory, jumps in my throat.

  The tear tracks on my cheeks burn and blaze, under my sister’s shrewd eyes.

  “Maybe you’re so concerned about Arrow because you like him yourself,” she taunts. “I can see that. He has that appeal. Girls throw themselves at him all the time. Why wouldn’t you? Do you like him, Salem?”

  I shake my head. “I… I don’t… It’s not about that.”

  She bends down and grips my arm harder. “You do, don’t you?”

  I squirm in her grip, my body burning in shame. “Sarah, let me go.”

  Her eyes shine with maliciousness and her nails almost draw blood out of my skin. “I want you to listen to me, okay? If you have any ideas about Arrow, you should take them out of your stupid little head right now. He’s mine. He’s a little angry right now because the wound is fresh. But we have eight years together. That’s what you told me, right? Eight years of love. Eight years of history. One mistake can’t erase that. I won’t let it. We belong together. He has to come back to LA sometime and when he does, I’ll be waiting for him. And if that’s not enough to make you understand and end your foolish fantasies, then let me tell you something else. He’ll never be interested in someone like you. Someone so aimless and ambitionless. An embarrassment. That’s what you are. Even Mom was embarrassed by you. She wouldn’t show it but I knew. How could she not have been? You’re an anomaly. Someone who shouldn’t have been born in our family. A big, fat stain. And you’ll be something else too, if you even dare to make a play for him, for my boyfriend. Something far worse. You’ll be a whore, okay? Because that’s what they call a girl who goes after someone else’s man.”

  I wait for him under my window.

  At the spot where he smokes and at the spot where they were talking, him and her.

  Sarah left a little while ago. I don’t know what she said to Leah, but she packed her bags and called a cab to the airport. Leah went to sleep then. She has to fly out for a conference early tomorrow morning and she said she’d take me back to St. Mary’s before she leaves.

  Meaning my time’s almost up.

  In the morning, I’ll go back to all the rules and schedules and structure. I’ll go back to detention and trigonometry and missing my bike.

  I don’t care about that though. I wasn’t even expecting to get this much of a reprieve. Especially when I don’t have the privilege yet.

  But he got me out.

  He sprung me out of that concrete fence like I was a bird trapped in a cage. So I can’t sleep. I won’t.

  I’m waiting for him.

  My emancipator.

  It feels like he’s been gone for ages. Chances are that he probably went back to his motel where he’s staying.

  So he won’t be back.

  But still, I wait.

  Because for some reason, I think he’ll come. He�
��ll come back to the house. I’m not sure why I think that; there’s nothing here to bring him back. Sarah’s gone. He’s upset with his mother.

  But I’m here and I’m his friend. And something tells me he’ll come back for me.

  God, all this time. Why didn’t he say anything? About what Sarah did.

  Why didn’t he…

  A second later, I hear the roar of his motorcycle and my agitated thoughts disintegrate.

  He’s back.

  He’s back!

  I’ve been sitting under the window on the cool autumn grass, my knees folded and hugged to my chest, my arms wrapped around them. I’ve been rocking back and forth with impatience but I freeze now.

  I freeze at the sight of him in the driveway, sitting across his motorcycle.

  His eyes on me. His brilliant blue eyes, that appear as dark as the night from this far, are glued to my curled-up form.

  Like he knew I’d be here. I’d be waiting for him.

  He’s right.

  No matter the time, the season, the weather, I’ll always wait for him.

  Without taking his eyes off me, he moves.

  He leans forward, arcs his powerful thigh over the seat and gets off. As soon as he comes to stand, I spring up to my feet.

  And when he starts to walk, I take off at a run.

  My woolen-sock-covered feet thump on the ground as I race toward him and we meet somewhere in the middle of the backyard where I’ve watched him countless times from up above, through my window.

  Although, meet is not how I’d describe the way I almost hurl my body at him.

  Like I’m the bird zooming toward him that he let out of the cage, or maybe I’m not a bird at all. Maybe I’m a storm and he catches me with a wide stance and a solid body and I burrow myself in his chest.

  I flatten my tiny body against his large one, my arms going around his waist and my cheek pressed against his ribs, right where his heart is.

  His dead, darling heart.

  I think I’ve shocked him. With my ferocity, with the strength I’m using to hug him, because he goes all stiff. But I don’t let him go.

  I’ll never let him go. At least, not in my heart.

  And maybe he knows that.

  He knows that no matter what he can’t escape my hug so his body loses its rigidity and his arms come around me and cover my spine.