Everything We Are

by Janci Patterson

  Jenna’s eyes widen, and Gabby looks horrified, like a trauma victim describing the origins of her deepest scars. “Yeah,” she says. “There’s definitely that.”

  “Seriously?” Jenna says.

  I rub my forehead, and then Jenna starts to giggle. It grows more and more high pitched, and she hugs her stomach.

  “Ty?” I ask. “Is your mom having a breakdown?”

  “That’s her tired laugh.” He looks down at his iPad. “But it’s only two in the afternoon. You guys must have talked really late.”

  Jenna giggles even harder, and Gabby gives me an alarmed look. But from Ty’s general disinterest in the conversation, I’m sure he doesn’t have a clue what we’re talking about.

  At last, Jenna gasps for breath. “Yeah. I think I need a nap.” She smiles at me, and I smile at her, and I wish we could curl up right there on the couch and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Something. Anything. When I agreed to this, I had no idea how starved I’d feel for little things like that.

  But if I had, I know I’d have made the same decisions. The idea of cutting her out of my life now is like thinking of removing my own hand.

  “We should let you get home,” I say.

  Jenna eyes me. “Do you have to?”

  “No,” I say. “But you probably should get a nap in, if you’re going to call me tonight.”

  “Mmm,” she says, her gray eyes gleaming. “This is true. It might be a late one, though. Ty and I have a date with The Game of Life.”

  I shake a finger at her. “All that lies that way is misery.”

  She smiles. “I remember.”

  I’m hit with this overwhelming need to kiss her. I stumble to my feet and run a hand in my hair. “We’d better get going. I’ll give Alec a chance to cool down.”

  Jenna nods. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Please,” I say, and Gabby and I ascend the stairs. When we get out to her car, she squeals.

  “You two are so cute!”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Our sexual frustration is super adorable.”

  Gabby starts the car, but doesn’t back out yet. “Jenna is awesome, though. And she smells like coconuts. Can you find out what shampoo she’s using? Because that stuff is goooooood.”

  I groan and whack my head against the headrest. “You are killing me.”

  Gabby gives me a pitying look. “Are you okay? I mean, this isn’t being too stressful, is it? Because if it is—”

  “I’m not going to use. I don’t even want to right now.” And I don’t. But god, four years . . .

  Gabby sighs. “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, really good.” I roll down the window and stick my arm out. Gabby’s car technically has air conditioning, in that the little light comes on and Gabby swears the air that comes out is incrementally cooler than the heat outside. But I don’t think even she believes it.

  “So what are you going to do now?” she asks.

  I’m struck with a sudden idea. “I’m going to go to the hardware store and figure out how to rig a cello case so it never closes again. Want to come?”

  Gabby looks skeptical. “You. Are going to the hardware store.”

  “Are you going to help, or just mock?”

  “I’m definitely coming with,” she says. “Because I am not going to miss Felix Mays trying to build something.”

  “Good call. I’ll be right back.”

  I run back inside the studio to grab my old cello case, and see Jenna and Ty lounging on the couch while Jenna catches up to him in Angry Birds. I wish more than anything I could join them, but instead I load the case into Gabby’s car. We wander cluelessly around Home Depot until two sixty-year-old gay men take pity on us, point out which brackets and bolts to buy, and then drill the holes and install the hardware in the parking lot with tools from the utility bed of their pickup truck.

  Permanently open, the case barely fits across Gabby’s backseat, and only if we move the front seats all the way forward. “Okay,” Gabby says. “I have to get to work. Are you going back to Dad’s?”

  “I’ve got to hit a meeting,” I say. “But yeah. Eventually.”

  Gabby squeezes my arm and then drives me back to get my car.

  But before I do anything else, I have to talk to Alec.

  I text Alec and tell him I want to talk. He texts back that he’s at the studio and he’ll be there for the next several hours, so after I go by the clinic to get tested and pick up my prescription for the next two days, and then pick up the spare cello case from my dad’s, I drive back.

  I find Alec sitting on the couch with his guitar, playing a riff of “Fly Me to the Moon.” He plays so slowly the song feels melancholy, and I sort of feel bad for him.

  But not bad enough not to say what needs to be said.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Alec stops playing and gives me a hard look. Or maybe that’s just his face. “Hey.” He says nothing else, just waits for me to speak.

  “I’m here to ask you to cut us some slack,” I say. “We’re doing the best we can under the circumstances. Especially Jenna.”

  “The best you can.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “And we’re following your rules, so if you could please just get off our backs, that would be great.”

  Alec sighs and plays another chord, but doesn’t continue. The notes hang in the air, with no bridge to connect them. “Felix,” he says, “you’re a damn good cellist.”

  “Thanks. But that’s not really—”

  “And that’s why you’re still a part of the band. We don’t have time to replace you, sure as hell not with someone who’s as good as you are.”

  I’m not sure what to say to that. I’m sure Jenna would take offense to the idea he can just decide to kick me out of the band without consulting her, but the fact is, he isn’t, so I wait to see where he’s going with this.

  “But this thing with you guys,” he says. “I’ve told Jenna over and over, you just need to do it and get it over with. Break the tension. Having it off so we can all get back to playing the music, okay?”

  I shake my head. “That’s the thing. It won’t be over.”

  Alec looks exasperated. “And why is that?”

  I don’t want to lie, and really, there’s no reason to. “Because it’s not about sex. We care about each other.” I close my eyes briefly. It’s more than that, but I’m not about to tell Alec the whole truth—definitely not before I’ve told her. “We want to be in each other’s lives, and if we spend one night together, we’re going to want another. And another. We’re not going to stop wanting to be together.”

  Alec stares at me. “Really.”

  “Yes,” I say. “Really.”

  “And Jenna wants this too.”

  “Yes,” I say.

  Alec rolls his eyes. “She thought she wanted that with me once, too.”

  I nod. “I know.” I want to tell him it’s different with me, but I know I’ll just sound naive and deluded. And the truth is, I can’t know that. Not for sure.

  “You’ve known each other, what? A week?”

  Exactly a week, as of today. “Yeah,” I say. “But it’s true just the same.”

  Alec sighs. “You’re not doing her any favors, you know. This is just going to make everything more difficult.”

  I try not to squirm. The last thing I want to do is to make Jenna’s life harder, but I can’t believe it would be better if I walked away. Easier, maybe, but some things are worth a little hardship.

  I desperately want to be one of those things.

  “We’re following your rules—” I say, but Alec talks over me.

  “Screw the rules. What happens when someone hacks your phone?”

  “We thought of that already. We’re using burners.”

  Alec shakes his head. “Soo
ner or later someone is going to get a picture of you two looking at each other the way you do. There’s no way we’re getting through four years of this unscathed.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “There’s no way we’re getting through four years of this.”

  Alec glares at me, but I can taste the truth of it. The last few days have been so intense. It can’t last forever. Something is going to break. And I know I’m hoping it’s the band while Alec is hoping it’s us. Except I need this job, and Jenna loves the band. I know she does, or she wouldn’t have put up with Alec’s crappy rules for the last year.

  “Fine,” he says. “I’ll cut you some slack. But think about what you’re risking here. We’re getting enough attention for the next few years to make all of our careers. Don’t you want that? Hell, if you care so much about her, do you want to ruin it for her?”

  I look at the floor. I don’t want to hurt Jenna, but I know what it’s like to get everything you’re supposed to want and discover it doesn’t make you happy.

  “I’m not sure,” I say.

  Alec strums another chord. “Yeah, well. Stay out of the way of those of us who are, will you?”

  I nod, and leave him alone with his guitar.

  Twenty

  Felix

  Later that night, I bring by the adjusted cello case, and Jenna answers the door. She’s clearly showered, with her wet hair up in a loose bun, and she’s wearing yoga pants and a Yellowcard t-shirt. She’s also wearing glasses, though I didn’t know she wore contacts. It’s nice to see what she looks like when she isn’t going out. Another glimpse of the life I wish I was a part of.

  “Hey,” I say. “I didn’t want to interrupt your game, but I brought this by for Ty.”

  Jenna is looking at me, horrified, and I think for a second I’ve done something terribly wrong. “If this is a bad time—”

  “No!” Jenna says. “No, I just—” She puts a hand on her hair and grimaces. “If I’d known you were coming by, I would have . . .”

  My stomach plummets, and all sorts of scenarios fly through my mind, culminating in an image of her and Alec having a heart to heart and getting back together thanks to my intervention. I’m practically waiting for him to come to the door in a towel, when Jenna finishes her sentence.

  “I would have put in my contacts at least,” she says. “I look like a mess.”

  I blink at her as I come back to reality. “What?”

  Jenna is folding in on herself, and backing away from the door. “You must be wondering what you’ve been doing with me.” She says this like she’s joking, but I can tell she means it.

  “Jenna,” I say. “You’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful. You don’t have to dress up for me.”

  She looks surprised, and I try not to take it personally. But really, how shallow does she think I am?

  “I have sisters,” I say. “I know what girls look like without makeup.”

  “Felix!” Ty comes flying by Jenna and throws his arms around me.

  I squeeze him back. “Hey, kid. I know how much you liked hanging out in the cello case, so I’ve got it all set up for you.”

  Ty’s eyes light up as he looks at it.

  “You take the brackets off, and it’s mine again,” I say. “But as long as you don’t lock yourself inside, you can keep it until your mom is sick of it taking up space.”

  Ty lies down in the bottom of the case. “It’s like I’m a vampire!”

  Jenna smiles at me, but she’s fiddling with her glasses self-consciously. I smile at her, and show Ty the holder for my bow. “See? I left the lid on so you can store stuff in here.”

  Ty cackles in an eerie impression of the Count. “Mom! Can I sleep in here?”

  “Sure. What do you say to Felix?”

  Ty hops out of the case and throws his arms around me again. “Thank you, Felix.”

  “You’re welcome, kid,” I say, and help him carry the case into the entryway.

  Ty bounds up to Jenna. “Can Felix stay for game night?”

  “I don’t want to interrupt family time,” I say.

  “Felix might have other plans, you know,” Jenna says to Ty.

  I look at her. Even if I did, I’d drop anything for her. “I don’t, actually.”

  Ty looks at me hopefully, and Jenna gives me a tentative smile. “You’re welcome to stay,” she says. “But don’t feel like you have to.”

  “Sure, kid,” I say. “I’ll play.”

  Ty cheers and runs back toward the kitchen, and I step in and close the door.

  “I thought The Game of Life brought you nothing but misery,” she says.

  “Yeah,” I say. “But any time I spend with you does the opposite.”

  Jenna’s smile widens. “You might like it better now, anyway. I made a couple changes.” We follow Ty to the kitchen where The Game of Life is already spread across the table, along with bowls of popcorn sprinkled with M&Ms.

  “You can start at the beginning,” Ty says.

  “Give him a head start,” Jenna says, passing her bowl over to me to share. “We’re already halfway in.”

  “Fine,” Ty says. “You can start with a career. Here.” He holds out the deck to me.

  I draw a card. “My career is . . . Gigolo?”

  Jenna tries valiantly to hold in a laugh. She’s blacked out the word banker with a Sharpie and written in her own addition.

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  “You’d be great at that,” Ty says, and Jenna’s laugh slips out. I grin over at her. God, that laugh . . .

  “Gee,” I say. “Thanks.” I sit down next to Ty and select a little car and a tiny blue peg.

  Jenna hugs her arms across her chest. “I really am sorry I’m not dressed.”

  I want to make some comment about never needing to apologize for being undressed, but I don’t because of Ty. “You’re gorgeous,” I say. “Ty, don’t you think your mom looks pretty?” I take a small handful of popcorn and M&Ms while he scrutinizes her.

  After a long moment, he shrugs. “She’s looked prettier.”

  I shake my head at him. “Clearly I need to teach you some rules about women. Rule number one. If someone asks you if a girl is pretty, you say yes.”

  Ty looks skeptical. “You shouldn’t lie.”

  “Do you know what a white lie is?” I ask.

  He thinks about this. “A lie about something that’s white?”

  “No,” I say. “A white lie is when you don’t tell the whole truth, because doing so would hurt people’s feelings.”

  Jenna raises an eyebrow at me. “So you’re just telling me I look pretty because that’s the rule.”

  “No,” I say. “I’m telling you that because it’s true. I can’t help if the kid is blind.”

  “I’m not blind,” Ty says. “My vision is 20/20. I had it checked.”

  Jenna shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

  “Okay,” I say. “Let’s try this again, now that you know the rule. Doesn’t your mom look pretty?”

  Ty looks at her for longer than is necessary. “She looks pretty, but she’s looked prettier.”

  “Better,” I say through a bite of popcorn. “Ready for the other rules?”

  Ty nods solemnly.

  “Never admit a woman looks fat, even if she does. And always say she’s smart, even if she isn’t.”

  Ty makes a face. “That’s not fair. Katelyn from school called me dumb, and what if she does that again this year? Why can’t I say that to her?”

  “Because you shouldn’t be saying that to anyone,” Jenna says. She narrows her eyes at me. “How am I supposed to believe you now, when you say I’m pretty, or thin, or smart?”

  “Ah, I’ve neglected rule number four.” I lower my voice conspiratorially. “Never tell a girl about the rules.”


  Jenna picks up my gigolo card and throws it at me.

  “Hey!” Ty says. “Don’t lose the pieces!”

  “Sorry,” Jenna says to him. “It’s Felix’s turn.”

  “For the record,” I say, “you should follow those rules for everyone. No one wants to be told that they’re ugly or fat or stupid.” Jenna nods her agreement, but Ty’s already back to concentrating on the game, switching his peg children around in the car “so they can try out all the seats.”

  We play for a while, and Ty racks up more children and wealth and Nobel Peace Prizes while Jenna and I starve to death alone in our plastic cars, having inexplicably spent our salaries on tennis camps and hosting charity police events.

  I groan as I land on “Buy a High Definition TV, pay $5000,” and fork over the very last of my money. “I’d think a gigolo would be a more lucrative career. Like I could at least afford a TV for my decrepit fault line house.”

  Ty gives me a serious look. “Mom says people don’t appreciate the arts.”

  I look at Jenna, and she laughs again.

  Ty glances back and forth between us and then stands up from the table. “I’m going to go poop,” he says, scooping a book off the couch as he passes it, then looks at me. “I read when I poop, like a gentleman.” And then he trots off to the bathroom and leaves us alone.

  “I don’t know where that kid came from,” Jenna says, shaking her head.

  I laugh. “That’s the first thing I ever said to him. He’d just finished telling me that Mason is a douche. And he very articulately told me that he came from his mom and his biological father.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  We smile at each other, and I realize our hands are both resting on the table, inches apart.

  I pull mine back, and Jenna hugs hers around herself again.

  I clear my throat. “Wherever he came from, I love that kid.”

  Jenna stares at me. “Really?”

  I wish I could snatch the words back. I don’t want to come off as creepy, and everyone seems to think I shouldn’t want anything to do with Ty. When I hesitate, Jenna frowns. “It was just an expression,” she says.