by Kennedy Fox
As I climb in the truck, my phone vibrates, and I see she decided to text me.
Jenna: I miss you. I hope you’re doing okay.
I know she’s trying to be nice, but I lock my phone and throw it in the passenger seat instead of replying. I cannot deal with her insistence right now. The drive home is uneventful, and when I walk into the apartment and instantly smell vanilla in the air, I know it’s one of Lennon’s candles. Anytime she’d burn them, I’d complain about how they reeked, but now I welcome the smell.
As soon as I set down my bag, she turns and looks at me from the couch. “Welcome home.”
She’s in higher spirits, but considering how grief works, I know it might be short-lived.
“Hey.” I give her a smile.
Her phone vibrates on the coffee table, and she leans forward to look at it. As I pass by, I see her parents’ picture on the screen as she rejects it, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I go to my room, grab some clean clothes, and take a shower. All I can think about is how Lennon will have to spend the next six days in the apartment alone while she’s on spring break. Though she made it through one day, I wonder how she’ll make it through the others.
After I dry off and dress, I walk back into the living room and sit on the opposite side of the couch from her to watch TV. It’s some stupid reality show, but she seems to be into it. Her phone rings again, and I notice it’s her parents again, but just like before, she rejects it.
I look at her and speak softly. “Lennon.”
“I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I’ve done enough socializing today,” she says before I can get another word in, leaning her head back on the couch to stare at the ceiling.
“You can’t avoid them forever. I’m sure they’re worried about you,” I tell her just as the commercial break ends. Her eyes wander back to the TV, but I know she’s not paying attention.
The third time her phone rings, I stand and snatch it before she can reject the call. Her mouth falls open, and her eyes go even wider as I answer it.
“Hello?” a woman who I assume is her mother asks.
“Hi,” I say, smirking at Lennon who’s frowning at me.
“Is this Lennon’s phone?” She sounds extremely confused.
“Yes, it is. But I wanted to answer so you don’t have to continue to worry about her. My name is Hunter, and I’m—”
Lennon quickly mouths, “Do not say roommate.”
“—her friend. And I’ve been checking on her to make sure she’s okay. And she is.”
“Thank goodness she has someone looking out for her other than her sisters,” her mother says, releasing a relieved breath.
“I make sure she eats and gets out of her apartment. But anyway, she can’t come to the phone right now. She’s not feeling like herself, but I didn’t want you to worry that something was wrong.” I smile, hoping she can hear my sincerity.
Her mother is very appreciative and sends her love before I end the call.
Lennon stands with both hands on her hips. “What the fuck?” she scolds in the same tone she used to curse me out in.
I shoot her a grin, though she’s not happy.
“You have no idea what you could’ve just done.” She snatches her phone out of my grip when I take my seat.
I’m confused by her statement, so I narrow my eyes at her. “What do you mean? And why didn’t you want me to say roommate? That’s what we are.”
She lets out a huff and mutes the TV, then turns toward me. As she looks at me with annoyance and anger on her face, all the air in the room evaporates. I wait for her to tell me what the hell is going on, and why this is such a big deal.
“My parents didn’t know Brandon and I lived together,” she says, closing her eyes hard, then opens them and looks at me.
“You never told them?” I study her.
“No. You don’t understand how they are, Hunter. They’re extremely strict and have very outdated beliefs. I wanted them to love Brandon as much as I did, and if they found out I was living with him, they wouldn’t have accepted our relationship. They’re extremely religious, and a man and a woman don’t live together until they’re married. Also, I’m still a virgin.”
I burst out into laughter, realizing she’s not amused.
“They really believe that?” I ask, wondering if she’s joking, but by the serious look on her face, I know she’s not.
“Sometimes it’s easier not to tell them every detail of my life. Their opinions won’t change anything, so it’s best to just keep my secrets tucked away. Now, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway.”
“But it does…because we still live together.”
She nods. “Yeah. But we aren’t dating.”
I watch as she begins closing up, building her walls again, and I know she’s thinking about Brandon.
“My mother tends to ask a lot of questions. I’ve already received so many calls from people at church sending their condolences, so I know right now, I’m the talk of the community. I guess that’s what happens when your father is the pastor of a megachurch. With the way I feel right now, it’s just best if I don’t chat with my parents. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret or snap at them for no reason. The last time I talked to her, she told me to come home and move back to Utah.”
“Are you?” I instinctively ask.
She pauses for a moment and smirks. “Hell no. As long as my sisters are here, I’ll be here. I have no desire to be told what I should and shouldn't be doing. I had eighteen hard years of that, and if I moved back, regardless of my age, it’d continue, and I just can’t. Plus, I love my job. California is my home now, and I don’t ever plan on leaving.”
My heart pounds hard in my chest at her admissions. Knowing she’s not running away when it would be so easy to do causes a smile to touch my lips. “Good,” I say.
“I do have a trip planned to see them in a couple of months, though, after school ends. Plane tickets are already purchased. Brandon and I were going together.” She pauses for a moment. “He was the only person I ever told about how strict my parents were growing up. He understood me on a deeper level.”
I want to reach out to her, but I’m on one side of the couch and she’s on the other, and it’s best if I don’t. But when she’s in this fragile state, I just want to hold her close and keep her together so she doesn’t shatter into a million pieces. My only job right now is to be the glue that keeps her whole as best as I can. I almost tell her about my childhood and how fucked up it was but decide to keep it to myself for now. It wasn’t easy, so I understand.
“I know. I miss him too,” I offer. I miss our Friday afternoon beers and all the shit he’d give me when I was being a total asshole. He’d listen to me talk about things that didn’t even matter. I feel guilty for never telling him how much his friendship really meant to me, though I hope after all these years he knew.
Lennon unmutes the TV and continue watching this ridiculous show, but as I glance over in her direction, I realize how happy I am she’s here. Neither of us is the best company as broken, hollow shells of ourselves, but at least we have one another in some fucked-up way.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I see it’s Jenna again. I reject it and act like I’m watching the most interesting thing on TV and get lost in my thoughts. It buzzes again, and Lennon looks over at me as if I’m interrupting this shitshow she’s watching.
“If you don’t answer it, I might.” She smirks, but I can tell she’s serious. “Because after you answered my mother’s call, I kinda owe you one,” she quips, but the thought of her talking to Jenna has me pulling my lips into a firm line. Before Jenna can call again, because she will, I turn off my phone and stuff it into my front pocket. I feel Lennon glance at me, but I don’t dare meet her eyes. She swallows hard, and I wish I could read her mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Lennon
It’s been two weeks since Brandon’s death, and I’m trying to find my new normal with
out him. I promised everyone I’d take spring break to work through what’s happened, but I didn’t. I floated through the week with no concept of time. The days and nights blended, and instead of being twenty-four hours, they felt never ending. As if I were in my own personal prison. I’m in a constant state of sadness, and while the random bouts of tears still come, I’ve been able to maintain a sliver of control.
I talked to Mrs. Locke last week, and we reminisced about all the good times Brandon and I had over the past two years. She talks about him as if he’s here with us and just went on an extended vacation or something. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s in denial, but I get it because it’s almost easier to think about it that way.
I’m up before my alarm goes off as usual. My back aches from sleeping on the couch, but I can’t lay in our bed, the one we’ve shared for almost a year. A fucked-up part of me even wants to leave his dirty clothes and shoes on the floor from when he changed to go ride. Loose coins from his pockets are scattered on the nightstand, and everything is almost exactly how it was the last time he was here. It’s essentially a time capsule of our life together, and I don’t want to disturb it.
For the past two weeks, I’ve slept on the couch. I only go into our bedroom to grab clothes, but otherwise, I avoid it as much as possible.
The apartment is dark as I stumble down the hallway. As soon as I open my bedroom door, I turn on the lights and hurry to grab the things I need before going to the bathroom. As I stand in the shower, feeling the streaming water fall over me, my emotions start to bubble. Every morning, I used to sing as loudly as possible to start my day; however, I haven’t felt like it lately. Though I’m sure Hunter is thrilled since he hated it so much. Singing always made me so happy, but right now, there’s nothing to be happy about.
After I dress, I walk into the living room and realize how early it is. It dawns on me how clean the apartment is too, which is odd, considering I haven’t been keeping up with it. Hunter always had a disaster waiting for me in the mornings, and now he’s cleaning up after me.
The sun hasn’t risen yet, so I snatch my phone from the floor where I left it last night and see it’s barely past six. Instead of sitting around in a dark room, I decide to grab my bag and go to work early. Hopefully, today will go by fast, though I couldn’t be so lucky.
I arrive at school an hour and a half before my first class and keep myself busy by reorganizing the instruments we used in the spring program. The last time I was here was for the performance, so my classroom is a complete mess. I’m grateful it keeps me busy until my students arrive. Since school will be ending within the next few weeks and summer vacation will begin, I planned to teach them the history of some of the greatest composers to ever live like Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach.
The day passes by quickly, and when I take lunch, I feel the stares of the other teachers, and all I can do is pretend nothing’s wrong and smile. When I heated my leftovers in the teacher’s lounge, I could’ve sworn I heard someone talking about me outside the door, and as much as I wanted to confront who was gossiping, I decided it wasn’t worth it. After I finish eating—or try to, considering my appetite is non-existent—it’s time for class to start again.
I feel as if I’m on a stage putting on an act for each of my classes as we talk about 18th-century composers, but I’m grateful I don’t have to sing right now, or I might burst into tears. Soon, the day is ending, and I’m relieved to be in the confines of the apartment. After I park and climb the stairs, I sit in the same place I’ve been sitting every single day. I lean my head back and close my eyes.
For a moment, I think I hear Brandon calling my name. My eyes pop open, and I look around. My blood rushes and pumps through my body, and I try to calm down, realizing I must have dozed off because I’m so damn exhausted, but it sounded so real. Before I’m able to get too lost in my thoughts, my phone rings, and I see it’s Maddie.
Each time she calls me, a picture of us when she first moved to California flashes across the screen. It brings a small smile to my face, and I hurry and answer the call before she’s sent to voicemail. There are not many people I want to talk to right now, but I’ll always answer the phone for my sisters anytime they call.
“Hey!” She’s excited; I can hear it in her tone.
“Hey, what’s up?”
She barely lets me get my words out before she’s squealing in my ear.
“I WAS PICKED! I GOT THE PART!” She yells so loudly I pull the phone away for a split second.
“Oh my God, Maddie!” I shriek right along with her. “I’m so happy for you! I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about your auditions.”
She scoffs. “Lennon. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately. But I had to tell you because we talked about it not too long ago.”
“Wow, I’m so proud of you, Mads. Seriously, you have no idea. If anyone deserves this, it’s you. You’re always pushing yourself to the limit and rehearsing all the time, and it’s really paid off.”
As she continues talking, the smile in her voice is so contagious, and I can’t stop from grinning right along with her. I’m so overjoyed for her.
“And guess what? They’re even paying me!”
I chuckle at her excitement. “Because you’re a pro! So happy for you,” I tell her, and she lets out a little screech again.
“Oh my gosh.” She sounds out of breath now, which makes me laugh. “I need to call Sophie. Then Mom and Dad. I think I need to celebrate. Maybe we can go out soon and do that?”
I grin. “Definitely. You’ve got it. I’ll let you go so you can tell the masses. Love you.”
“Love you too, Lennon. Bye!”
I end the call, and it’s the first time in a while I’ve felt real happiness, and it seems almost foreign. Eventually, I close my eyes and find myself drifting off again, but this time, I welcome it.
Soon, a strong hand on my shoulder gently presses me awake. “Brandon,” I whisper half-asleep, but when I slowly blink my eyes open, it’s Hunter I see, and there’s sadness on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, sit up, and immediately smell Italian. Every day, Hunter makes sure I’m eating even when I’m not hungry. My life has become routine, and today is no different. He graciously brings me food, and I barely speak to him, though he seems to be okay with just my company. Never in a million years did I ever think we’d be able to even sit in the same room without strangling one another, and now we’re having meals together.
“It’s okay. I picked up chicken fettuccine Alfredo and got some of those rolls you love,” he says with a smile. I appreciate how sweet he’s being, but I wonder when this will end, when he’s going to get sick of me and push me away.
We sit across from each other and eat in silence like usual.
Hunter plays on his phone, and I realize how awkward this must be for him to eat with his dead best friend’s girlfriend every night.
“I’m sorry I’m not better company,” I blurt without thinking.
He sets down his phone, then looks up at me with the most genuine expression. “I think your company is perfect.” He shrugs, moving his fork around his plate. “You don’t force me to talk about what happened or how I feel. You just accept me how I am, and you have no idea how goddamn refreshing that is.” He pauses before adding, “Okay, well maybe you do.”
I nod with a half-smile and move the chicken around on my plate, not eating. “I just don’t want all this to be pretend, Hunter. That you’re forcing yourself to be nice to me when you really want to tell me to get the fuck out and move on with my life.” My voice cracks, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to get a hold of myself. “Without Brandon here, there’s no reason you should have to live with me. You didn’t choose me as a roommate, and I don’t want to be a burden. I was thinking before summer ends, I’ll look for a place of my own since this is your apartment.”
He slams down his fork, and when his eyes meet mine, I feel as if he’s boring into my soul, seeing all my tru
ths, my faults, and the raw, vulnerable version of me I hide from everyone.
“There’s no way in hell that’s happening. You’re staying here, Lennon. This is your home as much as it’s mine. And listen to me very carefully,” he says firmly, searching my face. “Brandon was like a brother to me, and I knew everything about him and could probably finish his sentences if I really wanted to. We were inseparable. Practically grew up together in college. And the least I can do is what he’d want, which is to make sure you’re taken care of. He wanted us to get along and had asked me a million times over the past year not to keep fighting with you. But most importantly, he’d want us to lean on each other during this because he was important to both of us. I lost my best friend, but you did too, okay? No one, let me repeat, no one is forcing me to do shit.”
His words linger, and my heart threatens to beat out of my chest as I process his words. Hunter’s the type of man who says exactly what he means and means what he says. But I can’t help but feel like a burden to him, and maybe I’m not right now, but I will be eventually when he’s ready to move on. Our situation isn’t a perfect one, but it’s ours, and I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I’m grateful he’s not kicking me out on my ass because the thought of leaving right now seems impossible. It’s something I’ve thought about while on spring break even if I can’t afford to live alone on my teacher’s salary.
I swallow hard, keeping his gaze. “Thank you. I want us to get along too.” My voice comes out fragile and soft, but I don’t have the energy to try harder. I don’t know what else to say; my words sound so insignificant compared to his.
