by Calia Read
I chew my food slowly and people watch. Sitting at a table behind Pretend Mommy is Amber. She picks at her macaroni, sifting through the noodles until she finds one that meets her standards. She finally chooses one, sucks the cheese. She goes to discreetly wipe her face, but I watch as she spits the noodle into the napkin.
She repeats this routine. A nurse sees the same thing I do. She walks over to Amber and talks quietly in her ear.
Amber grinds her teeth and holds another noodle to her mouth and stares for a few seconds. And then she snaps.
“I want to go back to my fucking room!” She picks up her tray and throws it at the wall.
Havoc breaks out everywhere. Patients start to shriek. A few giggle. One cries and hides under the table. Pretend Mommy cradles her baby to her chest and sings a nursery rhyme.
There’s a guy sitting at a table next to me. He is unfazed. He leans back in his chair and grins. Maybe he’s a lifer. That could explain his joy over all this chaos.
All I can do is stare. There are just some things I will never get used to.
I abandon my food and walk over to a nurse talking to Amber. “Can I go outside?” I ask above the noise.
She gives me an impatient look. I can already tell that she’s going to say no.
“I’m not going to escape or go all crazy,” I say quickly. “I just want a few minutes of peace.”
She looks me up and down. I must pass her inspection. Or maybe she’s tired of the chaos going on and she couldn’t care less what I do. Either way, she briskly says yes and turns back to Amber.
I shove open the door. The cold air slams into me so painfully I almost wheeze. But the door shuts behind me, and as the noises from inside fade, I realize I would take this freezing air any day over sitting in that dining room.
I walk across the snow and make my way to the railing. In front of me is a stretch of land with grass covered by snowflakes and naked trees standing brave in the freezing temperatures. You know, if I want, I can make a run for it. I’ll have thirty minutes, an hour at the most, where no one will even notice I’m gone. As tempting as the thought is, I’m terrified. I keep looking over my shoulder, afraid someone is watching me from the inside and can read my thoughts.
I shove my hands into the sleeves of my hoodie and walk over to the flight of steps. I sit on the top step. This is as close as I’ll get to freedom.
The balcony doors creak open behind me. I keep my face forward as the doors clicks shut.
“Naomi.”
Goose bumps spread across my skin just by the sound of his voice. Lachlan.
He sits down next to me and takes a deep breath. It forms into the air like a mist of smoke. I try to grab it before it disappears but I’m too late.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he says.
I stare straight ahead. “Who told you where I was?”
His shoulder touches mine and he makes no effort to move away. I close my eyes and just take this in. His warmth, the feel of him. My hands curve around the underside of my thighs. I continue to stare out into the trees.
“No one,” he says. “When I walked into the dining room you were walking outside and… here you are.”
“Here I am,” I say, testing his words, trying to make sense of them.
Am I really here? Sure, in the physical sense I am, but that means nothing. It’s my soul, the very core of me that feels split up. And Max, Lachlan, and Lana hold those pieces.
Finally, I look over at Lachlan. I want to reach into him and grab the part of myself that he stole.
My heart is stuck in my throat, as I look him over. I love him so much. I love him too much to be considered healthy. I know that. And yet, I love Max with almost the same intensity. Does that make me a terrible person? Loving two men at the same time? I suppose. But I crave the both of them more than air.
If I had to choose between the two of them right here, right now, I couldn’t. I don’t know how to live without either one.
Lachlan has slightly changed. I know that’s impossible. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen him. His hair looks longer. Usually, he’s always clean-shaven, but there’s stubble on his face. His eyes look weary and so sad. I want to ask what’s keeping him up at night, but I’m pretty sure I already know.
“You told me you weren’t coming back.” I feel too much right now. So my eyes start to well up with tears. The emotions have to get out somehow. “You can’t just keep coming in and out of my life. It will kill me,” I say brokenly.
He drags his fingers through his thick hair. “I don’t know if I should even be here right now,” he admits. “I just miss you so fucking much.”
I let his words sink in and instantly feel a surge of energy that I haven’t felt since the last time I saw him.
“I miss you too,” I whisper.
Lachlan’s sharp hazel eyes focus on me with determination. “They allow you out of here on passes or something like that. You know that, right?”
I didn’t. “How do you know?”
“I asked. If you can get away from here for the weekend… you want me to take you away?”
I want it more than my next breath. I find my voice and whisper. “I’d love that.”
“Good. It will happen,” he says with confidence.
Lachlan has enough optimism for the both of us. I really don’t believe that they’ll ever give me a weekend pass. I’m starting to believe that I’ll never get out of here.
I look away. “Have I always been crazy?” I ask absently.
“Don’t say that about yourself.”
I nudge my head toward the building. “They think I’m crazy. Keep trying to diagnose me.” I toy with the material of my sweat pants. “Even my new doctor… she can’t seem to figure me out.”
“Do you like her?”
“Better than my old doctor. For some reason, I trust her.” I shrug awkwardly.
“That’s good though,” Lachlan says.
I glance at him. “I saw you a few nights ago.”
Lachlan frowns.
“You laid with me,” I continue. He sucks in a sharp breath and links his hands behind his neck. His eyes slam shut, like he’s in pain. “Crazy, right? You weren’t there, but you were. I swear you were. You talked to me. You told me a story to help me fall asleep. Even now, I can’t tell if you’re sitting next to me, or if I’m imagining this.”
Abruptly, he stands up and kneels on the step below me. His knees are buried in the cold snow, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“I’m here right now.”
Both of his hands wrap around my knees. His fingers rub my skin softly. I stay perfectly still and watch his hand travel from my knees, up the sides of my thighs, and to my waist. He grips me tightly, as if I will flee in any second.
“Someday, you’re gonna get out of here.” He utters the last of his words slowly. “And everything’s going to be okay.”
I believe his words only because they’re all I have left. Bending close, I wrap myself around him and tuck my face into his neck. I breathe him in like it’s the last thing I’ll ever be able to do.
“Tell me what you’re fighting and I’ll fight with you,” he whispers into my hair.
My hand curls around his neck, holding him place. A painful moan tears from my mouth. If I could reach inside myself to find the words, I’d tell Lachlan I miss him every day. That every day apart makes me feel like I’m slowly being drained of life. But I don’t have to speak. Lachlan hears the truth without a sound escaping my mouth.
“I know,” he whispers. He pushes himself closer and our faces are inches apart, our breath mingling together. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
Hope has all but disappeared from my spirit. But I feel it now. I hold on tight to it. Who knows how long this feeling will last.
He pulls away reluctantly. His fingers brush against my cheeks, making slow circles. “I have to leave.”
“No,” I protest. My hands tighten around his neck. �
��Stay.”
“I didn’t sign in at the front desk. Mary will find me and you know she’s not afraid to kick me out of here.”
“Stay,” I whisper against his lips.
“I… ” He starts to say something, but it fades into the air.
His lips move against mine. Slowly at first. But then the kiss picks up speed and the two of us almost become desperate. My fingers curl into his hair. He breathes through his nose. His body leans into mine and the feel of his weight makes warmth spread throughout me.
Then Lachlan rips himself away. The two of us are breathing heavily. His hands grip the railing. “I have to go.” I don’t know whether he’s saying that for himself or me. “But I’m not going to stay away, okay? I love you,” he says fiercely.
“I love you too.”
He stands and walks up the stairs. I hear snow crunching underneath his feet.
I drop my face into my hands. I reach into my memory and go through the years until I find one that makes the blow of Lachlan leaving soften.
I find a memory that makes my lips softly curl into a smile. I find a memory that makes me numb to the cold, and to the feeling of loneliness.
“I can’t believe I’m letting a child light a match.”
I concentrated on the rocket. “I’m twelve years old, Lachlan. I’m not a child.”
He snorted. “Just hurry up before you catch something on fire.”
At that, I blew out the match in his hand and grinned.
“Don’t do that.” He dug inside his pocket and pulled out another matchstick. “I only have a few left.”
Today was July 19. My birthday. It took me two years but I was finally going to have fireworks. I couldn’t stop moving around. I was so excited. I reached out and tried to catch a lightning bug for the eighth time and failed. Lachlan sighed and within seconds, caught one. Cupping it between his hands, he transferred it to my waiting palms. He handed it over like a big brother would. In a brisk gesture that said, “Here. I just did it for you so you would stop trying.”
“Where is all this energy coming from?” he asked.
“I’m just excited to see all the bright colors!” I smiled. “I think this is the best birthday present ever,” I confessed.
“How did your family celebrate your big day?”
“We had cake and presents.”
“That’s it?” Lachlan frowned. “No birthday party? No sleepovers? Don’t girls do all that crap?”
“Not all girls do that crap,” I said and changed the subject. “Can we light the fireworks now?”
“Man, you’re impatient,” he teased and handed me the match.
It took me three times to light the match. My fingers shook as I put the flame against the fuse. Seconds later there was a hissing sound and sparks. We sprinted away and turned in time to watch the sky light up.
For the next fifteen minutes we let off as many fireworks as we could. I stared in awe the whole time.
I wanted to light up more but Lachlan said no. “We better stop before we get in trouble.” He slid the matches back into his pocket. “Happy Birthday, kid,” he said, before he turned and walked away.
“Hey, come back!” I shouted.
“Kidddd,” he drew out. But he came back to me. “What?”
“You can’t leave.”
He looked down at his watch. “I got a date in fifteen minutes.”
A year ago Lachlan got his driver’s license. His parents had a shiny black car waiting for him in the driveway. He had the freedom to come and go as he pleased. I hated it.
And here he was, getting ready to leave again. Anger flared inside of me.
“With who?” I asked.
“With a senior.”
I crossed my arms. “With who?”
“Laura Kline. Do you know her? Yeah. Didn’t think so.”
I didn’t know Laura Kline, but I already knew I disliked her.
“Well, you can’t leave,” I said, matter of fact.
He frowned, but there was still that mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I’m waiting for the reason why. Why can’t I leave?”
“I have no one else to celebrate my birthday with!” I exclaimed. It came out like a whine.
“What about Lana?”
Lana was my best friend. Her dad worked with my dad. One day, a week after my tenth birthday, she came along with her dad. Instead of coming inside, she sat on the porch steps, staring at the ground. I sat next to her and happily introduced myself. She stared at me in a mixture of shock and curiosity. I talked her ear off and she sat and listened the whole time. By the end of the day, she slowly started to thaw. I saw her kind spirit and knew she would be my friend.
That was two years ago. We’ve been best friends ever since.
“She’s not here,” I said.
“Okay… don’t you have any other friends?”
“No.”
He frowned. “No one else?”
I looked away. “Just you.”
“You need more than just me, kid.”
“Or I could just have you and Lana. That’s way better than a lot of friends. It’s simple math, really.”
“How do you figure?”
“My grandma has always told me that she would rather have four quarters worth of friends than a hundred pennies worth of friends.”
“You’re still missing two other quarters.”
“Nah. You two are enough.”
Lachlan grinned. “Who can argue with that?”
He looked back down at his watch then at his car sitting in the driveway and let free a heavy sigh. “We have one more rocket left. Wanna light up the sky?”
My eyes widened and I nodded anxiously.
We kneeled back on the ground. I scratched at a mosquito bite on my leg as Lachlan prepared the last rocket. He lit a match. When it shot up into the sky, I craned my neck and watched the show. He stood next to me. Not once did he take his phone out and look at the time. We were both too caught up in the grand display. It wasn’t bigger or brighter than any of the other fireworks. But it felt like it.
“Happy Birthday,” Lachlan said. “Make a wish.”
I made a wish that every July 19 would be like this. With bright lights and smiles and laughter.
I wished for Lachlan to be by my side for the rest of my life.
Someone touches my shoulder.
I gasp and whirl around. Mary is standing beside me.
I’m back at Fairfax. Still outside. Snowflakes cling to my hair and my hands feel like icicles. Remnants of my memory are still there. If I close my eyes and really focus, I can hear the distant echo of fireworks and cheers from a small, twelve-year-old girl.
“Are you ready to go in?” Mary asks.
I stand on shaky legs. “How long have I been outside?”
“For about an hour. You looked deep in thought.”
She has no idea.
We walk inside the dining room. Everything’s cleaned up. There are only a few patients quietly eating. It’s like Amber’s outburst never happened.
I’m still in a daze as we walk back to my room. Fluorescent lights above us cast my skin in an unhealthy shade of yellow. I walk inside my room. The lights are already on. I stop short and look around.
I just came back from a memory so innocent and wonderful. My reality, living at Fairfax, is the complete opposite. I don’t want to be in here.
I go through my nightly routine: bathroom. Wash my face. Change clothes. And when I’m done, Mary’s in my room with medication in one hand and a small cup of water in the other. Except tonight I go through the routine feeling numb. My mind won’t pull away from Lachlan and twelve-year-old Naomi.
“Get some sleep,” Mary urges. She turns off the light and shuts the door.
Not even a second later I see Lana’s dad in the corner.
He’s seething with rage. He’s crouched down, ready to attack at any moment. My heart skips a beat but I don’t react. The medicine is doing its job. It’s making me not
care. But Lachlan’s visit is more powerful than anything.
And he, Lana’s dad, knows that. His voice gets louder. On another night, it can terrify me… but not right now. Right now it drifts past me and all his vicious words start to fade until they become a distant echo. My skull feels like it’s sinking into the pillow. I’m drifting further, until I’m being pressed down into the mattress. It’s like I’m free falling, pushing past the floor and the frozen ground. I keep moving, watching years of my life pass in front of me.
I want one more memory. Maybe I’m greedy and asking for too much, but I want to see Lachlan again.
My body stops moving. I close my eyes, and I dream.
“Lachlan. Good to see you. Is it summer break already?”
“No,” I groaned and laid my palm against my forehead. “I sound like an idiot.”
I took a deep breath and tried again.
“Oh. Hey, Lachlan. How are you? I totally forgot you were coming home.”
I’d been practicing my reaction and what I would say to Lachlan for the past hour. I was laying down in the treehouse, staring up at the clear, dark sky. There was freedom here to say my words without embarrassing myself.
Lana told me to practice what I would say to Lachlan. Yesterday, she sat with me up in my room, telling me that she did this any time she’s nervous about meeting someone new. She swears by it. But the technique wasn’t working for me. I was no closer to controlling my shaky voice than I had been hours ago.
It was that time again. Summer. Where Lachlan would come home from college and everything in my life would slide back into place.
He left for college last year. I remember the night before he left, sitting up in that treehouse, knowing that things were going to change. Big time. He was going to outgrow me. Of course he was. What 18-year-old would want to keep talking to a 13-year-old girl?
I told him that I wanted to go with him. Lachlan just sighed and tugged on my braid and said: “You can’t, kid. You gotta stay here and get older, wiser and smarter.”
