Coming Up for Air

by Nicole B. Tyndall

  “Here, try this one,” Becca says as she tosses me a shirt. After we cleaned up, she insisted that we were going to have a fun night, even if it killed us. And neither of us even flinched when she said it.

  I try on her top, and Becca stands next to me in the mirror, taking us in.

  Her eyes catch on my neck. “Wait. Hadley, you’re still wearing that?” She looks sad.

  At first I’m confused, and then I follow her gaze. With a jolt of panic, I notice that my silver necklace is completely outside my shirt. I’m so used to seeing it around my neck that I looked right past it. It must have come untucked when I changed.

  At the end of the necklace is the silver key to Braden’s house.

  When he clasped it around my neck during the spring, he said he wanted me to know that I wasn’t alone, that he would be there for me anytime I needed. And it didn’t take long before I started using it—and Becca knows it. She also knows I definitely shouldn’t have it anymore.

  And I’m not an idiot. I know I shouldn’t be wearing it. For so many reasons, but also because the key makes me feel a mess of emotions. When he first gave it to me, it felt like taking a breath after swimming to the very bottom of the deep end and coming all the way back up again. But after that, I wouldn’t have used it, even if I really felt like I needed him. I was afraid of what I might find him doing. Now, it’s a temptation. At any time, I could go sit in his bedroom or sleep in his empty bed. I could steal a T-shirt or a bar of his soap. He might not be there, but I could be. I could try to find some information about how he’s doing. I won’t pretend that I haven’t considered it.

  I look at Becca. “I haven’t used it in so long, Becca. I swear. I’m just not—” I stop, unsure how to finish my sentence.

  This key has sort of been a symbol for me—of him, of us. It’s made me feel less alone. And even if it can open a door, it can’t guarantee that anybody will be inside. What good is access to an empty room?

  I have to remind myself that I’m not alone; I have Becca. And Ty, and Greg too. But then I think of Braden, who is all by himself, in that hospital bed. And then I hear the whispers of my classmates and feel a painful tug at my chest, and I just can’t stand the idea of abandoning him.

  “You’re just not what?” Becca asks.

  I look at her, willing her to understand. “I’m just not ready to give it up yet.”

  She searches my face. “You still don’t know anything? Even after…” She trails off, alluding to my hospital visit.

  I shake my head, shoving down the memories that try to overwhelm me: his impossibly slow pulse; those heavy limbs; the countless lies, of omission or otherwise; and finally the harsh truth. It’s up to him now—to heal, to reach out, if he chooses. I had to let him go.

  Unless I ruined everything by letting him go.

  “Is it my fault?” The words leave my mouth before I even realize I want to ask.

  She puts her hands on my shoulders. “No, Hads. No. It’s not your fault.”

  “Okay.” I nod, trying hard to believe her. “Is it…Do you think it’s okay if I keep wearing it, for just a while longer?”

  She looks at the key and then back at me. “Yeah. I think it’s okay.” She pauses. “But I do think you should do something else too.”

  “Okay,” I answer, apprehensive.

  “So I’m your best friend, and I only want good things for you, right?”

  “Yeah….”

  “Okay. Well, I need you to Perks of Being a Wallflower this party,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “What?”

  “Tonight. I need you to, you know, participate. Keep your eyes open. Talk to people. Actually be there. Because you’re technically a single woman.” She puts her hands up, ready for my counter. “I know it’s more complicated than that, and maybe too soon, and I know you’re worried about him. But it’s his job to get himself better. And it’s been a while since he was actually, really, your boyfriend. Not breakup-wise, but, like, behavior-wise.”

  I take a breath, ready to argue, but the words fizzle in my throat. I’m tired of defending him. There are no easy answers.

  She sees my lost eyes and spares me from responding. “I hope the accident was a wake-up call. And that when he gets out of the hospital, he’ll get help. That he’ll be the guy you want him to be, the one he used to be. I really do.”

  My chest aches at her words, at how much I wish they would come true. Even if Braden gets better, I think we’re broken for good. I think it ended the minute he made his decision. My heart feels like those plates, shattered beyond repair, broken into edges that would only cut me if I tried to put them back together.

  Becca continues, “Right now, you need to stop waiting to live your life, Hads. You…I’m sorry, but you just can’t be the girl whose life revolves around her ex-boyfriend.”

  I give her a sharp look. How is it that I either feel like the cruel girl who abandoned her boyfriend when he needed her most or I’m the pathetic one who can’t let go? Is there a third option—someone who made an impossible decision and is hanging on by her freaking fingernails?

  She doesn’t back down. “A small step forward, okay?”

  There really isn’t a right answer, but at least this way, I’ll be with my friends. And getting out of the house feels…healthy, I guess. “If I hate it, I’m calling Judd to pick me up.”

  Her tone lightens. “If you hate it, I’ll bring you back, and we can find the box of chipped bowls next. They’re smaller, but I’m sure they’d break just the same.”

  I can’t help but smile, just a little. “Okay.”

  “And I want to see you dance tonight. I’m requesting at least three shakes of your ass. Some laughter. Maybe even look at some guys who don’t have a million years of baggage.”

  I scoff. “Don’t push your luck.”

  “Come on. Let’s just have some fun, okay? Ditch the weight of the world.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good, ’cause…I’ve missed you, Hads.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” I smile at her again, bigger this time. “But can we be done with the sentiment now? I’m exhausted. I’ll participate,” I repeat her word sarcastically. “But I need one good pump-up song in the car. Get rid of the feels.” I shrug.

  Her eyes light up. “Absolutely. I’ve got the perfect, perfect song!” She grabs her keys off her dresser.

  “Nothing from a musical.”

  “Oh, well, this hardly sounds like—”

  “Becca.”

  “Okay, I have another idea. Let’s go.”

  “Greg, hand it over.” It’s my fourth, maybe fifth, swig out of this cinnamon whiskey bottle, which I pulled out of Greg’s hand when I first sat down on the couch. I’m feeling a little reckless knowing that I’m sleeping over at Becca’s tonight and don’t have to worry about my parents, and that she’s driving.

  Greg and I have been passing the bottle back and forth ever since Becca asked him to babysit me while she went to dance. The alcohol burns going down, but it’s also working wonders on my mood. The more I drink, the less I seem to care that I’d fit in much better at the hospital than at a party.

  Greg laughs. “You all right, Hads? Becca will kill me if I get you wasted.”

  I look around. Ty’s house isn’t out of control or anything, but there’s a pretty decent crowd. Most of them are feeling very little pain. “I don’t think anybody will notice one more tipsy teenager.”

  “Becca will.”

  “Ohhhh wellll,” I answer as I press the bottle to my lips, feeling looser than I have in ages.

  Greg shakes his head. “I’m blaming it on you if she gets mad.”

  I hand him the bottle. “Obviously. It’s not like you’re making me drink. I’m a big girl.”

  Greg’s attention shifts to the dance
floor. “Speaking of, have you seen my girlfriend? I don’t want somebody swooping in, thinking she’s available.”

  I lean over and try to get a better view, but Becca finds me first. She yells my name and waves me over.

  Greg sees her, too, and hands me the whiskey. “Here, one more dose of liquid courage.”

  “Now you’re just trying to get me in trouble.”

  “And get you to leave,” he teases. I shove his shoulder. “Watch out for my girl,” he adds. Then I press the bottle to my lips one more time.

  “No problem.”

  I move toward the crowd but lose sight of Becca, and Ty catches my eye as I look for her. He’s standing behind a table, where he has two laptops and a tangle of cords. His red over-the-top headphones are lopsided. I flash him a grin, and he returns it, nodding.

  Closer to the speakers, the music is so loud that the deep vibration throbs against my skin. By the time I make my way through the crowd, the song Greg and I were talking over has ended, and a French rap song starts playing. I watch Tyler mouth some of the words as I approach. Who knew Ty could rap in French? I mean, his mom’s family is Senegalese, but I didn’t know he was that good.

  “Hiii, Ty!” I laugh at the rhyme. Okay, maybe I didn’t need that last sip.

  He grins and takes off the headphones. “Butler.”

  “I have a request.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. And I’m sure you have some totally expert song picked out, but the thing is…”

  “What’s the thing?”

  “Well, mostly that I haven’t felt like dancing in ages. And I’m dying to hear that last song from your playlist.”

  He looks me over appraisingly. “Do you really think I’m the kind of guy who would deny your request?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I think you’re exactly that kind of guy.”

  “Well, true, I guess I am. I have a flow going. But for you, I can make an exception.”

  A raspy voice fills the air, and I squeal in delight, a sound I haven’t heard myself make in a very long time.

  “Yes! Thankyouthankyou! You’re my favorite.” Blowing Tyler an exaggerated kiss over my shoulder, I dance away. He pretends to catch it and slams it into his chest. He takes two steps backward, like the force propelled him away from me. I feel the bubbling happiness come from deep in my belly.

  As I look around for Becca, all the individual movements of the crowd—arms, legs, pulses, shimmies, and shuffles—transform into one big wave flowing to the music. Controlled chaos, with Ty conducting.

  Then the crowd moves in just the right way, and I spot her. She’s in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, which is just the regular carpeting with the couches and coffee table moved up against the wall. The glow from the TV shines multicolored light onto her skin as it plays the video for the song. I pause to wonder how Ty figured out how to do that.

  When Becca sees me, she throws her arms into the air.

  I shake my hips in her direction.

  She places one hand on her heart and the other becomes a microphone fist. When Becca gives me a turn at the mic, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  Greg joins us, pulling Becca into him, and I fall into my own world long enough that somehow, I wander away from my friends. The beat picks up again, and I don’t care that I’m dancing alone. The music is blasting; it’s like I swallowed the speaker and it’s playing from inside me. I’m throwing as much as I can at the walls, onto the floor, at anything that will stick. Song after song, some type of release. And all at once I’m so grateful for Ty; this music is like its own version of shattering dishes.

  I walk-dance up to him. Ty looks up from his computer and leans closer so I can hear him over the music. “I’m a reasonable guy and everything, but I’m not going to grant you two requests in one night.”

  “Hey, I just came to compliment the DJ.” When he meets my eye, he suddenly looks alone, standing behind his computer. The guy who’s hosting this amazing party isn’t even getting to enjoy it. “Take a break and dance with me! I’m sure you have the next few songs picked out.”

  He pauses, just for a second, before saying, “All right, but try to keep up, Butler.”

  I swat his shoulder before pulling him around his table. He hits a key on a keyboard before letting me lead him away.

  A fast song starts, and Tyler gives me a knowing look. I throw my hair back and forth, giggling like a fool.

  Backing away, and making my eyes purposely heavy, I point at him dramatically. He answers with a goofy expression, and his voice is deep as he sings. The song is really high energy, whatever it is, and we jump up and down next to each other, throwing our hands into the air. I feel it with my whole body.

  When the chorus hits, Ty moves right with the beat. He has the smallest sounds memorized, and his robot arms are bending and stopping, legs sliding and freezing, all at the perfect moment. It’s dorky and awesome, and I can’t stop grinning. When the song hits its last note, we’re laughing and gasping for air.

  The next song starts, and it’s still got a good beat to dance to, but it’s slower. Tyler takes a few steps forward, moving closer, and he surprises me by placing a tentative hand my hip. When I look up at him, his amber eyes are on my face. I can’t totally read his expression, but in this moment, something about him is easier to see, more exposed.

  Ty mouths the lyrics and slowly rocks to the thump of the bass. The words echo in my ears: Might be better off without you. There’s too many people all around you.

  I’ve never heard this song before.

  He pauses and then slowly sways me; I didn’t realize I wasn’t moving. Before I can wonder why I feel a little nervous, the next lyric cuts me off short. He moves his mouth along with the words, looking at me: You’re so gorgeous.

  It doesn’t feel like he’s just singing along.

  The rhythm picks up, and our bodies have twisted together. Somehow, we’re pressed close now; I have a leg between his, and he has one between mine. My heart rate starts to accelerate; it’s a beat of its own.

  Tyler and I have danced together plenty of times, but never like this. Something is different. Maybe it’s him, maybe it’s me, or maybe it’s both of us. I try not to worry about it; I just dance. I hear Becca’s voice in my mind: participate.

  I’m lost to the music, lost in this moment. Ty’s swaying me back and forth, and my hands find his neck to help keep my balance. A jolt moves up my spine, but I don’t think about it. My brain has left, and I’m all body and heart. I’m laughter, and fun, and whiskey in my bloodstream. And something else. I haven’t been this girl in so long. And just for tonight, I let myself hold on to her by tightening my grip on him.

  Tyler’s other arm wraps around me, and I lean in to his body. His hands move to the small of my back. Our faces are closer than they were before, maybe closer than they ever have been.

  Ty lifts a hand and brushes my hair away from my face.

  My heart thumps faster.

  And the world continues to move around us, but the music fades, and now it’s just my heartbeat keeping time. He’s asking me a question with his eyes.

  And, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, I know the answer.

  I don’t think.

  I kiss him.

  I feel the air go out of him when my lips touch his. There’s the slightest pause before he reacts, and then his hand moves behind my head and pulls me closer. Closer. We stop dancing.

  Too soon, the song ends. And in the brief moment of silence, my thoughts come rushing in: What in the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just make out with Tyler! Because there was a naked truth in that moment, something I had been trying not to see.

  And what about Braden?

  Holy effing shit.

  I pull away, breathing hard. I look at
him, his mouth.

  The next song starts, and it thumps around us as Tyler and I stare at each other in disbelief. We’re the only still point in the wave of dancers.

  “Whoa,” Tyler says.

  I can’t stop looking at him. He risks a smile.

  Whoa.

  But then I see Greg marching toward us, eyes on us like a hawk stalking prey. When he reaches us, he grabs me by the arm. He pulls me away from Tyler, through the crowd, and into an office, where we were hanging out before. Over my shoulder, I watch Tyler standing with his arms slack at his sides, looking like you could knock him over with a feather.

  “What the hell, Hadley?”

  Some small voice in the back of my mind objects, saying that Becca told me to do this, to participate. But I know that’s not true. She didn’t mean Tyler. I just royally, royally messed up.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

  I find some words. “We were just dancing! I don’t know—”

  He cuts me off. “Well, you better figure it out!” He looks down at his feet. “God, you’re going to get me into so much shit.”

  “How is this going to get you into any shit? It has nothing to do with you! Jesus, Greg, it was just a kiss!”

  His voice is firm. “No. It was not just a kiss. That was Tyler. You two can’t have just a kiss. God, Hadley, you fucking know better.” I’ve never seen Greg so angry.

  He’s right, and it makes my stomach turn. I knew there may have been something there, between me and Ty, at least at one point. But I didn’t know there was so much behind it. And I definitely didn’t know I would match some of it. Tears start to gather in my eyes, but I force them back. Feeling like the worst person in the world, I lash out, “Can you just back off?”

  Greg presses his lips together. Then he exhales. “Had, you’ve been getting all kinds of free passes because of…everything. But this isn’t one of those times. You cannot mess with Tyler.” He looks at me. “Anybody but Tyler, okay? You’re not in the right place to start something, and it will mess everything up. For him, and for the four of us.”