by Lindy Zart
“It’s okay.” Her smile is small but real.
“Really? Just like that?”
Anna shrugs. “Holding grudges hurts the person holding them more than anyone else.”
I think of Lexie Hennessy, and when I see the unease pass over Anna’s face, I wonder if she’s thinking of her too. In the end, though, Lexie had the right idea. She chose to forgive me. I knew it when I saw the flicker of hope touch her eyes. She was thinking past the hurt, and our history. Lexie chose to move on.
“Right.” I let out a low breath. “I know it’s shocking, but I seem to be in need of some friends. Real friends,” I add, giving her an expectant look.
Anna’s grip tightens on her sandwich to the point where she mashes the edges, her eyes shifting from me and back. “What about Jocelyn and Casey?”
“We don’t really talk anymore,” I say carefully, wondering how much she knows about what happened between me and my previous friends. I plow forward, out of my element in this type of situation. People used to want to hang out with me; I didn’t have to campaign myself. “I’m nowhere near as popular as I used to be, but there are certain perks to having me as a friend.”
“Oh?”
My face heats up. “I can’t think of any at the moment, but I know they’re there.”
Anna laughs softly, and I smile.
“Maybe we can hang out this weekend? There’s a movie playing downtown that I wouldn’t mind seeing.”
“Sure,” she says after a pause. “I would like that.”
A light feeling overtakes my apprehension. “Great! And what about Chinese? Do you like that? We could get some before the movie.”
“I love Chinese,” Anna assures me. She scoots over. “Want to sit?”
“Yes,” I reply immediately. “I do.”
After a couple silent minutes pass where I pick at my sandwich and Anna nibbles on hers, she turns to me. “Is this a joke?”
My smile drops. “No.”
Anna nods, looking away. She faces me once more. “Are you sure?”
“I’m completely sure. I don’t…” I swallow the bite I took of tuna fish sandwich overloaded with mayonnaise. “I seriously don’t have any friends, Anna, and the ones I had…either I didn’t deserve them, or they didn’t deserve me.”
Our eyes meet.
I shrug, the sun burning the back of my neck to match my face. “You seem nice. I’d like to know someone who’s nice.”
Anna takes a breath, swallows, and nods. “Okay then.” With a smile, she offers me a bag of chips. “Do you like sour cream and onion chips?”
If this was last year, I would have knocked the bag from her hand in disgust. If this was last year, I’d still dislike myself. I don’t want to be that girl anymore.
“Thanks,” I tell her, and take a large handful.
Twenty-six
Alexis
“DAD.” MY VOICE COMES OUT in a squeak, and every breath I take makes it harder to take another, like they’re all trapped inside my lungs.
He looks up from the book he’s reading, blinks, and slowly lowers it to his lap. He doesn’t say anything for such a long time that I fear I look hideous, and he’s remaining quiet to keep from telling me. My dad stands, and crosses the room to me. I fidget, wanting to touch my hair and face, and knowing enough to keep my hands at my sides.
Gripping my clammy hands in his dry ones, he raises them, and spins me in a slow-motion circle. I smile, the material of the dress making a swishing sound as I move. He steadies me, drops a kiss to my forehead, and tells me, “You look extraordinary.”
I exhale, lightheaded with giddiness. “Is it too much?”
Crinkles form around his pale blue eyes as he smiles. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know what he plans on doing with you.”
“Me neither,” I grumble.
“It better not be anything I’ll have to kill him over.”
I laugh, but swallow it down at the look on his face. I clear my throat and smile weakly.
My dad’s bald head gleams like it’s been freshly polished. “He told you to dress up, correct?”
“Yes.” My heartbeat picks up, stalls, and careens madly to the promise of Nick’s turquoise eyes. I’ll see him soon. It’s been two weeks since we last got to spend time together. It seems like it’s been much longer.
“Then it’s perfect.”
I look around the dimly lit living room with its country blue and cream walls. I’m scared to sit anywhere. I’ll probably wrinkle the dress, be unable to stand once I’m seated, or both. This house is smaller than our old home in Ridgefield, Iowa, and it’s older than the one in Enid, Illinois. It lacks the memories of each, and I’m glad for it. It’s a new beginning in my old town, and we can make new memories here. Start over. Life is an endless chance at do-overs, I’ve recently discovered. As long as you’re alive, you have choices.
High school is something you get through to get to the good stuff. It’s a chapter, a start. It isn’t your life, and it isn’t forever. In the larger scheme of things, it doesn’t even matter. I know that now.
“Do you need anything?”
I shake my head, and my hairstyle shifts, but holds. It is now long enough to pull up, and my friend Carrie stopped by this afternoon to French braid it, leaving strands loose around my face. “No. Nick said I only needed a dress, and to not worry about anything else.”
“Hmm. I’m sure I’ll worry enough for the both of us.”
“Dad.” I give him a look, and he smiles—barely, but he smiles.
In the hospital bed as I was treated for a concussion and received six stitches on the side of my head, my dad told me he would get a transfer back to the factory in Ridgefield, allowing me to graduate with my friends. I didn’t tell him all the details of that night at the lake, but he figured out enough to know it would be best. I don’t remember everything that took place on the dock, but I was told I stopped breathing at one point. My last memory is of me falling into the water with the broken piece of dock, and the cold. I still feel the cold.
Death and me, we need to come to an understanding. As in, I won’t be needing its services for some time.
Dad allowing us to move back to Iowa was a happy surprise, and the retransition into my old school, with my old friends, was seamless. I think of the Enid kids, though, and often. I’m sure Jocelyn is the same as always, and Casey—well, I hope she’s learned to be an individual. I know Clint will think twice about messing with anyone. After the rock incident, he fled anytime I was near.
Melanie Mathews sent me an email a few weeks ago. It read: I stole your friend Anna. Keep yourself out of hospitals. I replied with: I stole your boyfriend. Stay away from booze.
I guess that means we’re okay.
“What time is it?” I’ve looked at the grandfather clock across the room three times now, and it doesn’t matter—I still don’t know the time. I’m nervous, and excited, and I really, really hope I don’t get sick.
Although we’ve talked a lot, and have seen each other every few weeks since I moved back to Ridgefield, Nick and I have both been holding back—because of our pasts, because of what happened between us. Because we’re scared. I don’t want to hold back. I had no right to judge Nick based on the person he used to be. That isn’t who he is anymore. I don’t even know that person.
He shared his darkness with me, and I bolted. It was too much, too close to my own wounds. It was the start of my junior year all over again. But I have my own darkness as well, and he stayed with me through it.
The doorbell rings, and my nerves skyrocket.
“Dad,” I say again, my voice close to inaudible.
“I’ll get it. You just…stay there.” My dad bustles from the room, putting on his intimidating face as he does.
I sigh, imagining how the greetings will go.
“I’m here for your daughter.” That will be Nick.
“Hurt her, and I’ll cut you.” That will be my dad.
Over the
last couple of months, my dad has gone from distant to proactive. It’s nice, and overwhelming, at times.
With my back to the entrance of the living room, I still know when Nick arrives. The air prickles, and my pulse zigzags. I close my eyes, and open them to see my dad watching me from directly in front of me. I jump, and he chuckles. I give him a look, and luckily, he understands that it’s his cue to disappear.
“Have a good night,” he says, and looks over my shoulder. “One at the latest.” The “or else” part is implied. Nick must nod, because with one final look at me, my dad grabs his book and heads for the stairs.
Once his footsteps recede, only then do I turn.
My breath is stolen as our eyes meet. I look into his aqua eyes, and see how they widen as they start at my hair and travel down my glittering dress to my matching silver shoes before coming to my eyes. I just stare at his face, wondering how it’s possible to ache for another with the entirety of my being. A missing piece of me is now back in place, and I feel whole. This is the boy who holds me during the night until I fall asleep, and I get to hold him as well.
I love Nick. The knowledge is scary, and wonderful.
“You shine like a galaxy full of stars,” Nick murmurs. The blond is back in his hair, telling me he’s been outside a lot. Telling me, if I didn’t already know, he’s not hiding anymore.
My cheeks warm. “It’s the sequins on the dress.”
A half smile takes over one side of his mouth. “It’s you.”
When he approaches, I finally take in his outfit. Silver tie, black button-down shirt, and…gray fleece pants. Laughter bubbles forth. With a grin curving his lips, Nick’s hands frame my jaw. He looks down into my eyes, and I fall into his. The kiss is soft, lingering. It causes the blood within my veins to soar, and my body to spark to life. Nick is magic, and my essence reacts to his.
“Where are you taking me?” I whisper when the kiss ends. My fingers dig into his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer.
With a secret smile on his lips, he takes my hand and turns toward the doorway. “Everywhere I never thought I’d be able.”
THE BUILDING IS NONDESCRIPT—A rectangular slab of gray stone without adornment, and minimal windows. Gravel surrounds it, along with a handful of trees nearby. I look around as I get out of Nick’s older black Toyota Camry. We’re in the town where Nick goes to college thirty-seven miles from Ridgefield, but I’ve never been in this part of Hamilton, Iowa. I haven’t a clue as to what could be inside this place, and I feel supremely overdressed.
In spite of the sun glaring down at us, the September breeze is cool, and I rub my bare arms. “What is this place?” I ask as we meet near the hood of the car.
“You’ll see.” The sun catches the color of his eyes, turns them indescribably captivating. I see hints of gold among the blue-green.
I eye the structure doubtfully before returning my gaze to my boyfriend.
Nick winks and starts toward the building. I watch his lean frame for a moment before following. He’s gained muscle since he left Live, and his skin is golden, which makes his intriguing eyes stand out that much more. During the week, he goes to school and works part-time at a bookstore. On the weekends, he is with me when I’m not working myself at a local diner, or his aunt. Dr. Larson. Never saw that one coming. Nick doesn’t talk of his parents, but I know it’s because he isn’t close with them, and not because he’s hurting.
We are both healing, slowly, on the inside. I absently touch the wound that will leave a scar on my forehead. I’m healing on the outside too.
Nick stops before the gray steel door, staring straight ahead. His throat bobs, his profile fierce and strong. He looks nervous, glancing at me. I slide my fingers through his, locking our hands together. “I am afraid,” he confesses in a low voice.
“Of what?”
He just smiles.
I know the feeling.
I am afraid to ask if he specifically chose Hamilton to pursue a career in guidance counseling because it is close to where I am.
I am afraid to hope he wants to see me as much as I want to see him.
I am afraid, if I don’t tell him every thought I have, I will later regret it.
Life is unpredictable, and I want to live mine without doubts.
Silence stands between us, and I ask something I’ve wondered, but didn’t have the courage to voice. “Did I ruin us?”
The color of his eyes changes from blue to green as he focuses on me. “No.”
“I mean, the old us. I know…I know, right now, we’re okay.” I frown. “I think. But…it was all so perfect at first—well, as perfect as any budding romance between two mentally unstable people in a treatment center can be—”
Nick makes a sound that seems halfway between laughter and choking.
“—and now…I don’t know. I wish I’d made different decisions. I wish I’d trusted what was before me, instead of doubting it.” I shrug helplessly. I’m not sure how to explain. It was simple between us, and then, it turned very, very complicated.
“We’re okay, Alexis. I think, there isn’t a way for us to not be okay. Unless you, I don’t know, stab me in the heart with an icepick or something.”
I blink. “Icepick?”
Nick smirks. “Did you have another weapon in mind?”
“What? No.”
He laughs, repeating, “We’re okay.”
I let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good. I thought—” I shake my head. I thought I hurt him too much. I thought I blew it. I thought I didn’t deserve to know this Nick. The Nick I fell in love with. My eyes sting.
His jaw flexes, and light dances in his eyes, intense and powerful. “I don’t want a perfect love.” Nick gently touches the jagged wound that lines my temple, his smile bittersweet. “I want this. I want you.”
Love. Nick said love. Butterflies erupt inside me, and I press a palm to my jumbling stomach. I try to smile, but it wobbles. “That’s good, because perfect is the farthest thing from what I am.”
Taking a slow inhalation, Nick turns back to the door. “Ready?”
I think he’s asking himself more than me, but I nod.
Chuckling, he shakes his head, takes another breath, and opens the door to shimmery lights, low-playing music, and silver streamers and balloons. Nick waits, looking like he doesn’t breathe. I freeze, taking in the scene before me, and then I turn to look through the doorway to the normalness outside. I turn back to the twinkling lights and silver decorations.
It’s like standing on the precipice of a never-before-seen world.
It’s amazing. And super clever. I have a smart boyfriend. This is good. Smart is good. And creative. Also good. I feel a goofy grin take over my face as I look at Nick, my cheeks hurting from being stretched so wide. With his hands in the pockets of his gray pajama pants, he watches me, revealing nothing of his thoughts with his blank expression.
“What is this?” I whisper, stepping carefully into the spacious room.
The door closes behind me, and Nick talks over my shoulder, his breath tickling my neck. “This is prom, and homecoming, and anything else you didn’t attend but should have.”
I whirl around, my eyes burning, and slap a palm to his chest. “You’re…you’re…”
Eyebrows lifted, Nick stares at me, looking apprehensive.
I spin away from him, my head back as I turn in a slow circle. Shadows of light dance on the high ceiling, and clear, tiny lights cover the white walls, roping around the room. There is a circular table with two chairs. A long table with a white tablecloth stands along one wall, laden with a crystal punch bowl and plates of miniature snacks. My stomach grumbles, and I realize I forgot to eat lunch. I was too nervous about seeing Nick.
We stand in the center of the room, and the walls seem to shift around us. Straining my ears, I pick up on the song, hearing the familiar chords of ‘Lost Boy’. It’s strangely appropriate. Nick was lost; I was lost. And when we met, we no longer were. My chest hurts. I
understand the anxious look I caught on Nick’s face, because I feel it too. Too many emotions are vying for dominance, and it makes me dizzy. Foremost, I want to cry.
“You did all this yourself?” Even my tone is thick, waterlogged with unheard sobs.
“I had help,” he admits when I look at him. “My aunt and your dad—”
“My dad helped you?” Shock turns my voice into something unnaturally high. He acted like he didn’t have any idea what Nick had planned, the sneak.
“A little.” He shifts, looking everywhere but at me. “Do you like it?”
I turn back to him, grab his face, and kiss him with all the heat of my being, and all my heart. With every part of me, I kiss him.
“You must like it,” he says in a sandpaper voice.
“I love it.”
Nick lassoes me with his arms, holding me close against his front. We leisurely shuffle to the slow song. Nick says he doesn’t want perfect, but right now, we have it. This is a perfect moment. That’s all you can hope for. Little instances of amazement that make the sucky ones dim.
For the first time, I really feel like everything will be okay. We went through a lot of bad. It’s nice to have some good, and to be able to see it for what it is. I can’t forget the past, but I can focus on now. I wouldn’t be where I am, at this very moment, if not for the collage of terrible events.
I should send Melanie a thank you letter. I smile. But probably not.
“Thank you for doing this, for bringing me here.” I hook my arms around his neck, my front flush with his. My skin is on fire, and I only want to be closer, always closer.
Nick gazes into my eyes, and smiles sweetly. “This is where I tell you that you make me happy. This is where I tell you that you helped me be brave. This is where I tell you that you made me want to stop hiding.”
His voice drops. “This is where I tell you that I love you.”
“In your gray pants,” I add quietly, my pulse spinning at his words, at the way he makes me feel. He makes me feel like there is true possibility in each day, and that all you have to do is go after it.
