by Zart , Lindy
“Then what did you expect? That I would just go off to college and leave you here waiting for me? It wouldn’t be enough.”
“It would have been, for me. I had faith in that—in us. You didn’t.”
“I did. I do.”
“You don’t.” She shakes her head. “Or you would have gone to California. You didn’t trust us, didn’t trust this enough. Be honest with yourself, Grayson, if you can’t be with me. You were holding too tight because you were scared. And now look at us.”
I swallow thickly, not wanting to believe her words, but unable to deny the truth of them. I was terrified. I still am. Right now, I am so beyond terrified. I can’t lose her. If I don’t have her, I don’t have anything good.
“Why…did you tell me you loved me? Why do any of it? Why be together at all if you were just going to do this?” My voice is quiet with pain.
“I thought maybe you would change your mind, realize you can’t stay here. And when you didn’t…I—I just wanted a piece of you before I had none of you. These last few months have been the happiest of my life, Grayson, because of you. It has been…such a gift, loving you, having you love me,” she whispers, tears glistening on her lower eyelashes.
“I even managed to convince myself for a while that I could do this, let you stay for me, for us. But the guilt was—is—too much. I told myself it would be okay. You would be okay. We’d be happy and our love would be enough to keep it that way. But it wouldn’t. I was lying to myself. I can see you, Grayson, in my mind. Years from now. You’re bitter, jaded, miserable. That image of you, the future you, haunts me. I can’t let you do this. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need that, I don’t. I just need you. It’s enough. And we’ll have endless months, years, of happiness. We’ll be together; we’ll keep loving each other. We’ll be okay.” I sound desperate. I am desperate.
“No. We won’t. I won’t let you. Because if I be selfish and let you stay, one day you’ll hate me. One day you’ll look at me and resent me. And I can’t bear the thought of you looking at me that way.”
“What about the way I’m looking at you now? Like you’re breaking my heart? You are, Lily, you’re breaking my fucking heart.”
“Do you think this is easy for me? It’s not! This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I want you to stay. I want to be with you, I want you here, but I can’t do this. I can’t let you stay. It would be for all the wrong reasons.”
My jaw clenches. “You don’t get to make my decisions for me. If I want to stay, I’ll stay.”
“You’re right. But I can decide not to speak to you if you stay. I can pretend you don’t exist. I can stay away. If I don’t end this, Grayson, you won’t go. I know you won’t. So you need to just try to pretend I don’t exist, like I’m going to do with you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would. I will.” She is serious. I see it in the set of her jaw, in the intensity of her ever-changing eyes.
Nausea hits me, fast and unforgiveable. I swallow against the sick feeling. “You’re doing the same thing to me that I did to you, only ten times worse. I didn’t give you a choice and you’re not giving me one. How do you validate this when I couldn’t make my actions justified? How is what you’re doing right when you told me I was wrong?”
“This isn’t about high school. This is about your life.”
I stare at her, seeing her and unable to digest what I am seeing. Who is this person looking back at me? “So us together is high school shit? That’s what you’re reducing our relationship to?”
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
“Funny. ‘Cause that’s what it sounded like.” In a low voice, I ask, “How can you say that? How can you belittle what we have so much by just…forgetting about me? Shoving me aside, pushing me into the high school box that means nothing once you leave high school. Why would you do that?”
She covers a sob with her hands, shaking her head. “Not forget, Grayson, never forget,” Lily whispers brokenly. “I’m helping you. I’m trying to help.”
“Lily. Please. I don’t want you to try to help me. I just want…I just want you.” My eyes burn as I gaze at the girl capable of fixing me and now I realize, capable of ruining me as well. I fist my hands, wanting to grab her and never let her go. “Lily, I love you.”
She weeps against the hand covering her mouth. “I love you too, Grayson. I love you so much.” Lily’s hand drops away and she takes a step toward the door, already leaving me. “I love you enough to let you go. I love you enough to do what’s best for you and not me. I love you enough to say goodbye.”
“Lily, stop,” I plead, grabbing her shoulders.
“I am one person, Grayson, one person. I am nothing!” She flings her arms out, knocking my hands from her.
“You are everything. You are everything,” I whisper raggedly, trying to catch her hands, but she shrugs me off.
The tears are streaming down her face, one right after another. “I am nothing when there is a whole world out there waiting for you. I can’t be the thing that holds you back, some insignificant nobody. I won’t,” she states fiercely.
“I can’t believe what you’re saying. I can’t believe you think that. How can you do this? To me? To us?”
She stares at me, red-eyed and miserable. “I’m being honest.”
“No. You’re not. You’re fucking lying!” I shout, incredulous and angry and hurting, hurting so badly. I swallow, trying to calm my racing heart, trying to find control when my heart is being demolished. “You’re the only thing…the only one…that makes sense to me, that makes me okay. You love me, I know you do.”
“I do. I love you and I know I always will.”
“Then why?”
“It doesn’t matter. What I think or feel—none of it matters. It’s over,” she says in a trembling voice.
“Lily.”
“Goodbye, Grayson.”
As she tries to leave, I lunge forward, pulling her around to face me. Panic has me grabbing her face tightly, then pushing my forehead against hers. I take a shuddering breath. “Don’t say goodbye. This isn’t goodbye.”
Lily draws away and glares at me, her eyes intense and her jaw clenched. “You do this, Grayson. If you can’t do it for yourself, then you do it for me. No matter what, even when you hate me, just remember why I’m doing this. I’m doing this for you.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears. “This isn’t how this is supposed to work. You’re not supposed to do things for me.”
Her sad eyes lock on me. “Only you can make sacrifices? What do you think love is about? When you realized you loved me, Grayson, didn’t you think maybe I could love you just as much as you loved me? Didn’t you realize maybe I could love you enough to be able to make sacrifices? If I didn’t love you as much as I do, I would be okay with you staying here. But I can’t do that because I love you too much to let you give up on yourself before you even try. Someday, you’ll know I’m right. Remember that.”
“Please, Lily—“
“I’m leaving now, Grayson. Don’t follow me.” Lily leans up and lightly brushes her lips against mine. They are wet and salty with her tears. She walks out of my house, taking my heart with her.
I breathe, my chest heaving with each one I take, feeling dampness trickle down my cheeks. I whirl around the kitchen, searching for something and not knowing what—something to destroy. I fist my hand and slam it into the wall, hearing a crunch, fire blazing from my knuckles. It’s not enough. I swipe an arm against the bowl on the counter holding bananas and apples. It crashes to the floor, shattering. I thought I could have happiness. I kick at the garbage can, toppling it over, garbage spewing onto the floor. I thought maybe I could forget all my problems and have Lily and that could be enough. I grab my head and squeeze. Stupid. I was so stupid.
Fury burns inside me—for myself, for Lily, for this piece of shit life I call my own. If this is to be my existence, if this is how it’s always going to end
up—with me losing something I love, then fuck it. I don’t care anymore.
It’s amazing how freeing that kind of thinking is. A numbness descends, wiping away the pain of always wanting what I can’t or don’t deserve to have. I’ll just keep telling myself I don’t care anymore and maybe after a while I’ll even believe it.
I bend down and start to right the room.
***
It’s kind of ironic how fast things can go from great to horrible. Does it ever go the other way, really? I’m thinking no. At least, not for me. I had a blip, a barely acknowledgeable moment of happiness and now it’s right back to suckiness. The time Lily and I were together won’t even register as significant on a timeline of life, but for me, everything else in my life thus far pales when placed side by side to the weeks with her. I barely had her before she was gone. How can it hurt so much? I’ve been apart from her already half the amount of time we were together and it isn’t getting easier. The ache isn’t going away. I wonder if it ever truly will.
Basically I’m sick of everything—me, my parents, this town. There is this burning ball of fire inside me that wants to burst forth and ravage everything and everyone around me. I’ve been living with this numb fire for days now, close to a week, and the anger is there, always there, just beneath the surface, ready to explode. I hate everything. Anyone who speaks to me annoys me, everything I have to do feels like a burden. Even getting out of bed is a chore I’d rather not deal with. I’m suffocating.
I just…want…out.
I set a rum and Coke before a blond who’s been eyeing me since she entered the bar. “Thanks,” she purrs.
I absently nod and turn away to help another customer.
The pull to leave this town, leave this life is strong, unbearably strong. I have to go soon. I know I do. If I don’t want to fall apart, and in the process destroy anyone that’s ever meant anything to me, I have to go.
“What’s your name?” the blond calls when I cross the floor to the register.
“Grayson,” I answer without looking at her.
“I’m Zoe, Grayson. You look sad.”
My eyes lift to her face. I’ve seen her in here before. She’s pretty, the fine lines around her eyes showing she’s probably older than me. Most obvious of all, she is not Lily.
“I’m good,” I lie, wishing I could stop thinking of her, comparing everyone to her, loving her. I wish I could go back in time, not move here, never meet her. Or maybe I just wish my mom had decided not to have me in the first place. Kill two birds with one stone and all that. Only I can’t do any of that. So I suffer.
When I think of her, I want to cry. The loss is profound and the numbness I feel as the result of it is the one thing I am thankful for. I should write Lily a thank-you card and tell her that. I‘ve given it a lot of thought and decided it would go something like this:
Lily,
You broke my heart to the unalterable point where I feel nothing. I just wanted to say thanks for destroying me and making me unable to have a single emotion other than rage. You rock like a sledgehammer against a beating vessel—the vessel that is my heart.
Sincerely,
Grayson
It’s Thursday and just about time for EY to start. Ana’s been riding me about performing at EY since she and her cousin caught me singing however many Sundays ago. She has been especially relentless since I walked through the door of the bar tonight. Apparently she thinks it would be cathartic for me to sing. She’s a fool. A bullet to my head might be, but not singing. She means well so I take her words of advice and sorrowful looks and hugs and everything else Ana does in the name of friendship.
“Hey, Mopey.”
I smile tightly. “Yes, Ana?”
“I got twenty bucks says you won’t sing tonight.” Her blond eyebrows lift.
“Let’s say you keep your twenty and not bother.” I get three guys beers, take their money, and give them their change.
With a dramatic sigh, she drapes herself across the bar, the silver sequins of her halter dress sparkling under the lights. “You’re no fun anymore.”
I grab the broom and begin to forcefully sweep the floor. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“No you’re not and what did the floor ever do to you?”
“Way to be original. Don’t you have something to do?” I snap, raising my eyes to glare at her. “Like, wait on customers or something? You know, work?”
With a pout, she straightens and tosses her long hair back. Hands on hips, she stares me down—and stares and stares.
When I can’t take it anymore I slam the broom against the floor. “What?”
Crossing the short expanse of space behind the bar, Ana only stops when we’re nose to nose. She’s tall in those heels. “If you don’t sing tonight, I’m going to be like this…forever. And I can be ‘cause my parents own the place. I can work as much as I want, or as little as I want.” She smirks.
“Why is this so important to you? Why tonight?”
She stares at me for a long time, her expression thoughtful. “Just trust me, Grayson. You’ll thank me some day.”
Her words are reminiscent of Lily’s, and like Lily’s, I doubt it. I rub my forehead, knowing she means what she says. Ana will drive me insane with her determination. “Fine. All right. One song. Now get off my back.”
“So touchy,” she mutters, finally giving me peace.
“You owe me twenty bucks!” I shout after her.
The place is filling up fast. The patrons that only come to the bar to drink alcohol are leaving. The bar refuses to sell alcoholic beverages while EY is going on. I clean the empty bottles, cans, and glasses from the bar and wipe it down, trying to ignore how the volume of conversation is getting louder.
People that are closer to my age group amble into the other room as the DJ sets everything up. A pre-arranged band fiddles with their instruments, tuning them in preparation. Participants pay five dollars and they can bring their own music or pick something off a list. There’s also the Sacrifice—one person unlucky enough to be picked by the DJ to perform. They can decline, but the fee to get out of it is five dollars, and if they don’t have it, they have to tell an embarrassing story about themselves. EY is messed up, but fun. I’ve performed a couple times, but tonight, I’m not in the mood. Sleep—I’m in the mood for sleep—quiet—dark—maybe even a comatose state.
The bar area darkens as the other room lights up. I lean my backside against the counter with my arms crossed, staring at the crammed room as the DJ grabs his mic. Darren Cage is twenty-five and has a disturbingly deep voice. He’s pretty much the only DJ the bar uses. He’s well-liked, fun, and does a good job. It probably doesn’t hurt his popularity that he’s over six feet tall, muscled, and the ladies drool over him. Tonight he’s wearing a red shirt that molds to his well-defined muscles that a gym has credit for and straight-legged jeans with boots.
My eyes narrow as Ana saunters up to him, her dress twinkling silver with each step she takes. Darren tilts his head as she whispers into his ear, grinning as he nods. Ana pats his arm as he straightens, his eyes zooming in on me. Really, Ana?
“All right, folks, looks like we got our first volunteer. You all know Grayson can make drinks, but did you know he can sing? I’ve heard him. It’s true. Let’s go, Grayson.” Darren motions me forward.
The crowd erupts in cheers and clapping as I make my way to Darren and the band. His teeth flash white as I approach. “What’ll it be, Grayson?” he murmurs, handing over the microphone.
I scan the mass of people as I debate on what song to sing. Ana is smiling, looking much too satisfied, as she lounges near the bar. Johnny Love, her cousin, is next to her and I wonder at that, my brows lowering. Why is he still hanging around Fennimore? I thought he was supposed to go back to California weeks days ago. Unless he came back, but why would he come back? I shake his presence off, not caring enough to give it too much thought.
I search my brain for a song and decide to sing one of
my own. I’m not a master with the acoustic guitar, but I’m efficient enough. I take it from the wall behind the band. “I got this,” I tell the drummer.
He shrugs, clearly enthralled with being here tonight.
Darren drags a barstool over and sets up the microphone in front of it. I nod my thanks and look out at the awaiting crowd. Conversation is low, most eyes on me. I know they’re all wondering if I’m going to stink or be great. A smirk takes hold of my mouth as I strum the guitar.
“I was told I could be anything I wanted to be. You always told me. But what if I told you all I wanted was to be with you?”
I forget I am not alone. I forget there are dozens of eyes watching me, riveted to every sound and motion I make. I close my eyes, my fingers sore from strumming the guitar strings, and let the words overtake me.
“I was told love doesn’t last. You always told me. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t listen. What if I told you all I wanted was to be with you, even still?
“I was told I would heal, in time. I was told the pain would go away. You always told me. But I don’t want it to. It’s a part of me, a part of you. And all I want is to be with you.
“I was always told I’ll love again. That you weren’t it for me and there will be another. You always told me. But you were and there won’t. I just want to be with you. It’s all I want.
“You always told me. I just want to be with you. It’s all I want. You always told me.”
I awake from the trance of the song, blinking at the eerie silence in the bar. Someone starts to clap and others follow; the sound jarring in its enthusiasm and volume. I sit on the bar stool, feeling like I’m watching this from the sidelines and it’s not me sitting here, but someone else. Whistles and hollering crash over me and I grin.
“Thank you.” I nod, put the guitar back, and start toward the bar.
“Another! Another! Another!” The chant starts, getting louder and boisterous with each second. My gaze slides over the people, something like euphoria hitting me.
Darren is beside me, silently asking me what I want to do. I shrug. He looks out at the crowd. “Okay, okay. Maybe if we ask nicely, Grayson will sing another song. What do you say?”
