by Zart , Lindy
Still staring at her, I say to Ben, “Forget about her. You’ll go to college soon, you’ll move on, she’ll move on, and it’ll be like you never knew her.” My words sound false, as though I’m trying to convince us both, which I am.
I storm from the cafeteria, looking away when Lily’s eyes lift to mine. Entering the hallway, I punch the locker closest to me. Pain laces through my knuckles and I curse, holding my throbbing hand with my other.
“Mr. Lee, did the locker do something to you?”
I look up at Principal Young. He’s somehow across the hallway from me though I never heard him approach or even saw him, one eyebrow lifted as he watches me. How does he do that? I sigh. “No.”
“Then I suggest you refrain from hitting it.”
I nod, swallowing.
He begins to walk away, and then turns to look at me. “Anything you need to talk about?”
I wordlessly shake my head.
Principal Young stares at me for a moment. “All right,” he finally says. “Just be nice to the lockers, okay? They’re kind of sensitive.”
“Okay.”
“Get some sleep. You look like you need it,” he calls over his shoulder.
I slump against the locker I just punched and hang my head, wondering how everything got to be so screwed up. You did this, whispers back to me.
The door to the lunchroom slams open and my eyes lift, along with my pulse rate. Lily stands frozen, one hand on the door, her ever-changing gaze locked on me. I straighten, waiting. The effect of her eyes on me is dizzying. I’ve missed them, missed them looking at me, looking into me.
“Um…” She rubs her nose, glancing away.
My breath is fast, leaving me in little pants and my heart is twisted with longing, with anger and regret. Still I wait, silent and unmoving.
Lily lets the door close behind her, blocking out the sounds of the chaotic cafeteria, and it is quiet once again.
Taking a step toward me, she asks, “Are you…is everything…okay?”
“Why?” My voice is rough.
“What?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
She lowers her eyes to the floor. “You just…seem upset.”
I laugh bitterly. “I’m fucking fantastic, Lily. Never better. Go back to your boyfriend.”
I whirl around, blocking her sad face from my eyes, but not my head. Those eyes are stuck in there, hurting, making me torn up inside. Silence is all I hear as I turn the corner. She didn’t even try to deny it—about being Garrett’s girlfriend. My heart thumps in agony.
***
I’d never given forever much thought. I mean, I always pictured Lily with me, through the years, no matter what happened or where I was. I never thought of us being apart, but I never really envisioned us together as a couple either. We were just…connected. We were one. Now we’re nothing and I can’t stand it. The pain in my chest is maddening. I can’t go through my life without her, I know that now.
With lungs burning so badly each breath is torn from me, I finish my run by walking the last few blocks to my house. The sun has gone down for the night, so it has to be close to eight. Days are longer now in May, but still too short for me. Sweat covers my hair and body in a layer of dampness and I tug my shirt off, shoving part of it into the elastic waistband of my gray shorts. My arm swipes across my face, brushing shaggy bangs out of my eyes. I need a haircut. Lily always cut my hair. I focus on my breaths instead of the sharp ache that slices through me at the thought, evening out my pulse rate with difficulty.
When I see Lily walk out of her house with a flaming red halter dress on, black heeled sandals that ribbon halfway up her calves, and her hair an erotic mess around her face, it is too much. I snap. Missing her, longing for her, hating the way things are, being unable to change the ways things are—it is too much. I don’t even think; I just charge.
I grab her wrist, ignoring the thrill of her skin against mine, and demand, “Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”
Startled, her brows lower as she tugs her arm away. “What do you think you’re doing talking to me and manhandling me like that?”
I ignore that because I don’t really know.
I shove a hand through my wet hair, showing her my profile as I try to put my emotions into words that actually make sense. “Why are you dressing the way you have been lately? This isn’t you. I don’t like it.” I like it. A lot. For me. Not for anyone else. Anyone else seeing this deserves their face punched in.
I clamp my jaw shut and flex my fingers, really wanting to do that to the next guy I see checking Lily out. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it will be Garrett. I smile thinly at the thought.
“Why are you smiling like that? It’s creepy.”
The smile slides from my face. “Why are you acting the way you are?”
She tosses her head, a totally unLily-like action, and glares at me. “What the hell do you care?”
Flinching, I stumble back a step. “What is with your language lately?”
“What? You don’t like the way I talk?”
“I don’t like swearwords coming out of your mouth.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re a big hypocrite. You can swear all you want, but I can’t say things like asshole, fuck, bitch, bastard, damn, hell, shit—“
I clamp a hand against her mouth, my eyes inches from hers. Heat rolls off her to me and me to her, a sauna of repressed passion whirling around us. “Stop it. Just stop it. This isn’t you.”
She bites me. With a curse, I yank my hand away. “What the hell, Lily?” I holler, holding the stinging hand with my uninjured one.
Her body quivers, and by the look on her face, I know it’s in fury. Features scrunched up, eyes narrowed, she states in a trembling voice, “How do you know what I am or am not? I wonder if you ever really knew me. Just like I wonder if I ever really knew you too.”
I tilt my head beseechingly, my chest constricted, tight. “Lily—“
She slices a hand through the air to silence me. “And just so you know, this can be me if I choose it to be. We all have choices, don’t we, Grayson? Some are good, some are bad, some we regret, but we always have them. You chose to be a certain way. Now I have too. Deal with it.”
A horn toots and she waves as she walks away, leaving me. Speechless, I whirl around just as she’s getting into Mia’s Ford Escape, which is the same shade as her dress. Most of her thigh is showing as she maneuvers it into the car and I have a hard time breathing. The desire slamming through me is not enough to block out the single thought, What did I do to her?
***
It is Sunday afternoon and the bar is closed. Most of the lights are off, so it’s dim inside, and the scent of lemon cleaning solution lingers. Sometimes I come here on Sundays to write or sing, or just to think. Bud and Jackie Love don’t mind. In fact, they encourage it. They trust me. It’s quiet, empty, and I have music and a microphone. It’s perfect.
I mess with the sound system until ‘Free Fallin’’ by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers is queued up. I grab the microphone and sing, thoughts snuffed out by the music and lyrics. I am not free, but I am falling. I know this. My voice is deeper, rougher than Tom Petty’s, but untrained and unique like his.
The drive to succeed as a singer/songwriter is overshadowed only by the desire to be with Lily. I live and breathe music. It thunders through my veins, it has the power to alter my perception, thoughts, and emotions. I cannot go a day without it. It’s like a drug, the only one I’ll allow myself. And the drive is there, always—the need to prove to myself, to everyone, and to show the world that I am not a mistake. I am not worthless, and I do have a purpose—to show my mom that maybe even though I am not someone special, I am at least noteworthy.
No matter what I accomplish, it never seems to be good enough. The need to prove myself to others, to feel like I matter, is endless. I could blame this inefficiency in myself on my mom, and maybe that is a lot of it, but maybe I’d be this
way no matter what.
I don’t need to be rich and famous. I don’t need my name and face plastered on magazine covers. I just want to be able to do what I love as a career. I just need to make enough money to be sufficient. That would be enough. I don’t think I could give it up even if I tried. I know this as well.
The only time I can push reality away is when I’m lost in music. I need that now. ‘How You Remind Me’ by Nickleback plays next. I wander around the room, closing my eyes as I sing. I don’t need the lines on the screen to sing; I have the lyrics memorized. The final word leaves my mouth and I know I am no longer alone. I open my eyes and turn around.
“Grayson!” Ana waves from the bar, her face lit up with excitement. Her body is clothed in a white tank top and short pink shorts, her hair in two braids. Tanned and glowing, she is a picture of health and beauty. Her barely contained eagerness makes me suspicious. Enthusiastic Ana is trouble.
“Hi,” I greet slowly, turning my gaze to the man beside her as I set the microphone down.
“This is my cousin Johnny. Johnny Love. Johnny, this is Grayson, my friend I was telling you about.”
The guy is shorter than Ana, his hair black and wavy, his skin tanned golden brown. Though it is around eighty degrees outside, he is wearing tan dress slacks and a white dress shirt—way overdressed for Fennimore. He appears to be in his early thirties, judging from the fine lines around his eyes. The hard edge to him boasts of worldliness I don’t know I’ll ever experience, nor do I particularly want to. The man oozes money and arrogance. His eyes are the same green as Ana’s and they are much too intense as they study me.
I shift my stance, feeling uncomfortable under his unmoving stare. “Hi.”
“Grayson.” He nods, accepting the drink Ana hands him with a murmured thank you, his eyes still on me.
“Come here, Grayson.” Ana motions me over, sipping her customary rum and Coke.
Hesitant, I carefully weave my way toward the pair. “What are you doing, Ana?”
She blinks innocently at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Narrowing my eyes, I say, “I meant here. Today. What are you doing here? Your mom and dad said you were out.”
Ana lives at home. I don’t know why. After college, she moved back to Fennimore and back into her parents’ house—something else I don’t know about her. Ana only allows you to know the details about her she wants you to know.
“Oh. Yeah. Johnny and I went shopping. When we got back, Mom mentioned you stopping by for the key.” She shrugs. “We were bored so I asked Johnny if he wanted to come over and have a drink, maybe meet you. He’s going back to California soon. He’s in the entertainment business.”
I frown at her. Ana knows the only time I come here is when I want to be alone with my music. And what is with her weird behavior? She keeps widening her eyes at me. I just nod as she talks, knowing she is up to something.
“Ana tells me you write your own music. And you sing.”
I shift my attention to Johnny. “I do.”
He flashes a smarmy grin. “Impressive. Want to share something with us?”
“No. I don’t,” I reply curtly.
He is beginning to creep me out. It’s like he is studying and cataloguing each detail of my exterior. I’m suddenly self-conscious of my messy blond hair, my glasses, and the fact that I’m wearing a gray shirt with cut-off sleeves and old cargo khaki shorts. I look like a slob next to Johnny Love. And really—Johnny Love? Who names their kid that?
“Pity,” he murmurs, tossing back a shot of brown liquid.
I turn a glare on Ana; silently asking her what the hell is going on. She shrugs, avoiding my eyes. I look at her cousin. Shocker—he’s watching me again. “Nice meeting you. I got stuff to do. Here’s the key.”
I don’t wait for a response, striding for the door. The weirdness of the encounter stays with me as I step out into the abnormally hot day, my skin heating up almost immediately. Clearly Ana and I need to have a talk the next time I work with her so she can explain to me what that was all about.
***
“That movie sucked,” Ben announces as we leave the Blaine Theatre in Boscobel, one town over and down the hill from Fennimore.
I toss my half-eaten tub of buttered popcorn into the wastebasket outside the old movie theater. “It was three dollars. It’s allowed to suck.”
“Dude. You just wasted popcorn.”
“So get it out of the garbage if you want it that bad.”
Ben flips me off, pausing to stare down at the tub of popcorn in remorse.
“Really?” I shake my head, walking toward his car.
The air is moist, warm; the sky dark and overcast. Streetlamps add a fuzzy glow to the night, bugs swarming around them. I take a ragged breath, whatever I was about to say dissolving at the sight of Lily with Garrett. I can’t move, my body impaled with anguish. I inhale and it feels like my throat is being squeezed.
“What is wrong with—“ Ben trails off. “Oh. I see now.”
They are crossing the street to get to the movie theater. Lily is walking a little ahead of him, looking determined, or maybe annoyed. I prefer to think annoyed. Any small discrepancy between them I consider a gift to me. Her hair is loose and sways around her shoulders as she walks. The shirt she is wearing is tight, colored apple red, and off her shoulders, her skin glowing under the artificial light of a lamppost. Dark jeans and white sandals with a humongous pink flower in the center of them complete the ensemble. She looks amazing.
Garrett glances up and his steady gait fumbles as our eyes meet. I fist my hands as I stare back at him. It isn’t anger I feel coursing through my veins—it is more like devastation. And it hurts so much I can’t speak or look away, or even get my feet to move. She isn’t mine anymore. She never was mine, not really. That knowledge shreds me. I could have had Lily and I chose not to.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Ben urges, grabbing at my arm, but I shrug him off.
Lily notices me then, her steps faltering. Her brows lower as she takes in my expression. Garrett, dressed like he’s going to a wedding instead of a movie in his tan slacks and pale blue buttoned-down shirt, touches her arm, drawing her eyes from me to him. I can’t do this anymore. Everything has been taken from me, unfortunately of my own volition, even her coveted looks. My chest is tightening and I am struggling to breathe. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I blink my burning eyes just as Garrett pulls her toward him and I have to turn away before their lips touch. Or I’ll break, I know I will.
Helpless—I feel so helpless. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this sucking void of black nothingness before, not even when things are at their worst at home.
“Are you okay?” Ben murmurs, hurrying to catch up to my long strides.
“Yeah.” My voice is flat.
“The car’s back there, man.”
“I’m walking home.”
“Grayson—“
I spin around, my tear-filled eyes colliding with Ben’s. I don’t even care if he thinks I’m a wimp. The energy that would require is beyond me. “I’m…walking…home.”
His hands are up, palms toward me. Ben slowly nods, his hands falling to his sides. “All right. Call me if you need me.”
As I walk, I’m besieged with images—images of Garrett’s hands on Lily’s arms, her back, cupping her face. I see her eyelids slide shut as a low moan falls from her lips. And her heart…her heart is thudding for Garrett, because of Garrett, from his touch. I press my hands to my head to try to block the visuals from my mind. Instead they continue to build up, ravaging my brain and heart with all the consequences of my actions.
By the time I reach the house I am unseeing, and stumbling. These past few weeks have turned me into a mess and I can’t even function anymore. It’s all too much. The thought of her with someone else, the thought of someone else touching her, kissing her, it is unbearable. Reprehensible. Wrong. A choked sound leaves me as I picture Garrett leani
ng toward Lily and I clutch my aching chest, barely making it through the front door and up to my room before hot tears spill from my eyes.
Chapter 12
I push the cart through the aisles of Peck’s Grocery, randomly tossing stuff into it. Sugary cereal—check. Pop Tarts—check. Chips—check. My dad should know better than to give me a hundred-dollar bill and tell me to get whatever. To even it out, I toss in some lettuce and apples—which of course makes me think of Lily—that whole balancing thing. When I look up, at first I think I somehow imagined her into the store, but no, that’s her.
Instant heat and perspiration erupt, along with a sick feeling. I am literally unable to move from the force of emotions that bombard me as I gaze at her. I just want her, that’s all. This pain I feel, being separated from her, it’s not worth it.
The top she is wearing is deep purple and much too tight, showing off an inch of creamy flesh between the shirt and low-slung jeans. Her clothes show off a figure I didn’t realize she had. I am in no way getting used to this new, shockingly different Lily, but even I have to appreciate the body being displayed, regardless that my first instinct is to throw a blanket over her and rush her away from any eyes other than mine.
When she disappears down an aisle, I don’t think; I act, shoving the cart after her. I feel like some demented stalker, following her like I am. I have no idea why I’m doing it; I wouldn’t even know what to say to her if she saw me. Doesn’t matter. Onward I go. I swerve my cart to the left so I don’t run into a woman lingering by the ice cream, ignoring her glare as I hurry after Lily.
I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I am miserable, and I look like shit. I just want her back. I don’t care about being righteous or noble anymore. All I care about is being able to be with her. It is all I want, and I can’t let her leave the store without knowing it. I am desperate.
I run down the aisle next to the one I know she is in, blocking her just as she reaches the end of the aisle. The cart slams into a row of food, knocking canned goods to the floor. She jumps, her eyes widening at the sight of me, then narrowing. I’m gasping for breath and probably look a little crazy. I feel a little crazy.
