by Marilyn Grey
The Batman quote by Brad Meltzer came to mind. The one from the 2004 comic Identity Crisis.
People think it's an obsession. A compulsion. As if there were an irresistible impulse to act. It's never been like that. I chose this life. I know what I'm doing. And on any given day, I could stop doing it. Today, however, isn't that day. And tomorrow won't be either.
It didn't help though. Not like I thought it would. I never cried, but my eyes were warm and wet and my chest tightened every time I breathed in. Brooke touched my shoulder. I closed my eyes and inhaled, shaking.
This was my dream.
My dream from forever ago.
Failing.
"It's just the first day." Brooke tried. She wanted to encourage me, I guess. "More people will come in and love this place. The styles are amazing. Don't let it get to you."
"You know what bothers me the most about this?" I sniffed. "I really tried to create a line I knew people would like. I analyzed the industry for years to see where it was going, to try to be ahead of the game, but still make something people would love."
"People will love it. Don't get so down. It's only been open a few hours."
"We shall see."
Another set of young girls came in, walked around, and left.
I stared at Brooke.
"Give it some time," she said.
I nodded.
Donovan and Han walked in from the back. Holding hands. Smiling.
My eyes twitched as I held the tears in. Don't cry, Jane. Don't do it.
Han looked at me, then Brooke. "Is everything okay?"
I nodded emphatically while pinching my lips together. Don finally looked at me. I looked down and tapped my foot. Another group of two older men and a business-looking woman came in. I greeted them, they walked around for a half of a second, and out they went.
I wanted to hold myself together. Seriously wanted to be mature and businessy and deal with setbacks.
But I literally dreaded this very thing happening. And it happened.
I casually walked to the front door, turned the sign to closed, and looked at Brooke, doing my best to avoid Donovan's eyes.
"Change of plans," I said. "Meet me here tomorrow." I still avoided his eyes, but felt them burning a hole into me. "Whoever wants to help. I'm changing things. I need a change." I shrugged again and walked to the back, up the stairs to my apartment, inside, plopped on the couch, and inhaled the deepest breath ever.
I would not give up. Imagine if Batman gave up. Imagine if he said, "Hey, guys, this is hard and I've got psychos on my ass. Yep. I give up. Not worth it."
Giving up would not be in my vocabulary. And I had a plan.
A text came through. From Alistair. How's it going ducky?
I laughed and typed back, Can I call?
The phone rang. I picked up.
"Jane." That voice.
"Alistair."
"What's wrong?" he said. "Are you okay?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I can tell by the tone of your voice."
I tried to find something to say.
"Jane? What's going on?"
My bottom lip trembled. "It's just...."
"Listen to me." He paused. "Listening?"
"Mmmhmm." I pulled my lip into my mouth and bit down.
"Failures don't make us who we are, right? My biggest dream is to write an amazing album, something I'm proud of. And I'm shit at it, Jane. Can't do it." He sounded out of breath. "I'm playing drums for a band I can't stand and I hate it. Perhaps...." His tone lightened. "Jane, perhaps we have failed at these things because we should be doing something else. Yes." I heard the smile in his voice. "Let's do what we want to do. Let's check it off our bucket list."
I couldn't help but laugh. "What do you mean? Which ones?"
"Bad day with the store, right? Plan B, Jane. Open back up with your Batman-inspired line."
His excitement erased my desire to disappear or give up or give in and replaced it with my own excitement.
"Alistair...." I wanted to cry happy tears. "This is exactly what I needed."
"I'm quitting the bloody band."
I almost laughed at the way he said it, but he was serious, so... "You are? When? Are you sure?"
"Batman made the climb in The Dark Knight Rises. Now it's our turn. If I fall, pick me up. If you fall, I'm here." He paused. "I'm going to start now. I'll call you back later."
"Wait. So you're quitting the band? And I'm doing a Batman-inspired clothing line?"
"Precisely."
"Alistair."
"Jane."
"Thank you."
That helped. That really helped. I stayed up almost all night sketching new designs and pulling out old ideas. I planned on doing outfits inspired by all Batman movies and even the comics and I hadn't been so excited to set my pencil to paper in years.
Here are my two favorites:
Zoe came downstairs to take a shower before work. "Please tell me you slept on the couch."
"No sleep for me. I'm too excited."
"Excited? Thought you were depressed?"
"I was bummed out, but Alistair cheered me up."
"Gonna keep going with the store?"
"Kinda. You'll see." I closed the sketch pad and stood. "Think I'm gonna go sleep now for a little bit."
"Good idea. Hey, how's Donny?"
"I guess he's pretty good. Haven't talked to him in a while."
"I can't believe he chose someone like that over me."
"I don't think he chose. I think he just moved on, then found her. Don goes through girls so fast though. He'll be single again in no time."
"She barely speaks English and she's so short."
I shook my head. "Now you're being rude again."
She covered her mouth with her hand, then walked toward the bathroom and turned around. "Oh, my clothes need to go in the dryer now. Thanks!"
Sometimes with Zoe all you could do was just stare and wonder if people are born like that or if they are somehow conditioned to be so oblivious of their own words and actions. I didn't like her at first. She annoyed me. She came across as extremely self-centered and mean. Plus she's a little too Cher from Clueless for my tastes. Majorly. But I guess we all annoy others with our flaws and weird antics. I loved Zoe now. She made me laugh. Plus how could I be upset with someone who had a past like hers? She didn't talk about it much, but I could tell she longed for the kind of family I had. As weird as my family could be, it was still a loving and encouraging situation. I don't think she ever had that.
I tossed her clothes in the dryer, did the dishes, then got comfy in bed. It wouldn't surprise you that I woke up around noon to a text from Alistair. We talked all the time now.
He quit the band.
It's weird and good all at once, he typed.
I responded, half asleep, by typing an incoherent string of words, then fell back asleep before sending.
He woke me up again. Jane?
Then he called.
I forced my eyes to stay open and finally answered. "Sorry, I had typed a mess of words and fell asleep before I sent it. I stayed up all night drawing. What did the guys say when you quit?"
"The guys are okay. They don't enjoy it much either. It's always been so contrived, but my manager had a fit about it. It's over now and I'm feeling good about it. Already started messing around with some melodies. I'll play it for you tonight."
"Tonight, huh? What makes you so confident that we will talk tonight?"
"The smile on your face right now."
I touched the corner of my mouth. "How'd you know?"
"I always know. Your voice gets a little higher. It's cute."
"Oh." I blushed.
Zoe tapped on my bedroom wall as her shadow moved behind the curtain.
"Come in," I said.
Donovan stood in the doorway. I sat up as fast as possible and dropped the phone.
"Donovan?" I whispered. "What are you doing here?"
He held
up the spare key I gave him. "Checking on you."
Oh! Alistair! I picked the phone back up. "Hey," I said. "Sorry. My friend just randomly showed up and I dropped the phone."
"Who is he?" Crap, he was on speaker.
I fumbled to get it off of speaker as Donovan waited patiently.
"He's my ... um ... just a friend." I watched Donovan's reaction.
"Why do you say it like that?" Alistair said.
"Like what?"
"Nervously."
"I don't know." Donovan put his hands in his pockets and kicked his feet around as he waited. "He's in love with someone and don't worry, it's not me."
"Are you in love with someone?"
I watched Donovan and hoped he couldn't hear the conversation.
"Jane?"
"How do you know when you are?" I said.
"I'll let you go. I don't want to be rude to your friend."
"No, it's okay."
"Go ahead. We'll talk later."
"Okay. Yes, call me tonight."
"Will do. Have a nice time with him."
"Alistair?"
"Yes."
"Alistair."
"Jane."
I smiled and we hung up after arguing about who should hang up first. When I finally ended the call Donovan continued to look at the ground.
"Why are you checking on me?" I said. "The boutique thing?"
"You sound pretty serious with him." He nodded to my phone. "Are you?"
"He's a friend. I've been going through a lot lately and he's been there for me. Vice versa too."
"Jazz..."
"Yeah, Don."
"Sorry for being a jerk."
"Don't worry about it."
He sat at the edge of my bed. "I'm glad things are going well with Alistair. Finally some guy has broken through your indomitable barrier."
I laughed. "He hasn't broken through yet."
"Yes he has. I can tell."
"How?"
"You still haven't stopped smiling."
"I don't know."
"You don't know what? You've been smiling since I came in and when you hung up the phone you paused, stared at it, and sighed. Jazzy's finally in love," he teased.
"I am not." I slapped his arm. "Stop with that."
"Lover boy's accent won you over, didn't it?"
"Annnyway, Don. How are things with Han?"
He smiled and stared off for a few seconds. The longer he stared the brighter his eyes got.
I swallowed. "Gonna propose?"
"No." He turned back to me. "It's not like that with her. It's different. Less of an emotional ride and more of a ... well, it's all things. Mental, physical, emotional. She hits every part of me, Jazz. She's amazing."
"She is pretty amazing. Very sweet."
"And smart, cute, funny. She's got this naive childlike part to her that makes her adorable." He gazed off into dreamland again. "She's perfect."
"No one is perfect."
"You know what I mean."
"This is different for you."
"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah. It is."
"Is she okay with you being here? You're in my bed."
He nodded. "She's sitting in the living room. I just needed to talk to you. Wanted to tell you that Han and I are here if you need help. Don't give up the shop."
Han andI. He was officially becoming one half of a whole.
"I'm not giving up," I said. "Regrouping. I'll tell Han all about it."
"Why can't you tell me?"
Good question. I didn't even realize I said that. See, we were drifting. "I'm keeping it as a surprise from everyone," I tried to redeem myself.
He searched my eyes.
"Fine," I said. "I'm trying not to hide from the truth anymore. So the truth is ... we're growing apart, Don," I whispered. "This friendship is changing. Han is good for you. She's changing us though."
"What about Alistair?"
"Him too."
"I guess it was bound to happen. I always knew when I found the one that our friendship would take a few steps back. There's only room for one girl in my heart, Jazz, but I'll always be here for you."
I nodded and kept a straight face, tried to smile, tried to pretend like that last one didn't shoot an arrow through some sort of festering wound I had. "I know," I said. "And there's only room for one guy in mine."
But it's you, Donovan. It's you that I love. I've always loved you.
We looked at each other for a few seconds. I couldn't tell if he saw pain in my eyes or affection, because I felt both and without a mirror I had no idea which one I had painted on my face.
He squeezed my hand and stood. "I better get going."
"Yeah." I stared at my blanket. "Yeah, you better."
And he walked away. Hands in his pockets, heart in the palm of her hands. I listened as his footsteps met Han's, then a pause, a kiss maybe. The curtain continued to sway as two sets of feet clapped across the floor below, then the front door opened. And closed.
Do you ever feel like prolonging a chapter of your life? Just drawing it out, maybe rewinding and reliving it to make sure you feel and experience every detail fully and deeper. Maybe dying in the middle of it so that it never ends. The next chapter doesn't have to unfold. It doesn't have to bring something you don't want to experience. It can end right here. Before everything changes. Before you can never get it back.
What if? What if I could stop it? Make it so he doesn't walk out the door. He doesn't leave. He's right there on the edge of my bed.
And the page never turns.
Chapter 21
It never works out the way we want it to. Life. The page always turns when we want to pause and it seems they get stuck together when we desperately want to know what happens next. Then, there are those times when the wind picks up and the pages flip and flip and flip until we're completely lost. It's in those times, like now, that I felt like giving up.
But he called.
And I picked the book back up, turned the page, and began to read.
"Alistair."
"Jane.
"If I gave you a pen and told you it was magic, you could write the story of your life, make it anything you want ... what would you write?"
"Hmm ... well, that's not a little question."
I laughed. "I like the way you say little without the T's. Lih-ul."
"I know, I know. Mum always tells me to stop doing that. It's not proper."
"It's cute."
"Oh, really? Then I should make sure to say it a lih-ul more often."
"Don't let it lose its charm."
"Good point. So how was your time with the guy?"
"It was Donovan. I've told you about him."
"He's with someone now? Again? Does he not like to be single?"
"Not anymore. We kinda have a history together. I mean, we never dated, but he wanted to and when I finally pushed him away he just went full force into dating. One girl after another after another after another. This one's different though. She's normal and sweet and beautiful."
"But he's still your friend, you say?"
"He is. We've always been close."
"You sound sad."
"You always know how I'm really feeling."
"It's not hard. I just listen. Pay attention."
"I like you, Alistair."
He paused and I almost regretted letting that slip, until he finally said, "I like you too."
"So ... the story of your life ... what would you write?"
"I guess I would start by writing a plane to the States so I could provide this strange girl with the best kiss she's ever had in her life, from there I don't really care what's written. That'll be enough, thanks."
I laughed. "What if you're a horrible kisser?"
"Then it will be the worst kiss you've ever had, which will be equally as memorable."
I laughed again. "Thank you."
"For?"
"For being a morsel of happiness in a cookie of crap."
&nb
sp; He laughed. "Sounds nice. Vulgar but nice. You're welcome, I suppose." He paused. "What would you write, Jane?"
"I'd write a new me."
"Not at all. I wouldn't change a thing about you."
"I've got flaws. Too many."
"That's okay. We all do. Part of what makes us real."
"I emailed my mom a few times. She hasn't responded."
"Maybe it's the wrong email."
"It's not."
"How do you know?"
"I have a few different ones. Tried them all and a Facebook account. She just hasn't responded."
"Don't let it get you down, okay? She may not be ready to face you."
We spent the next ten minutes in a content and warm silence. He fiddled with his guitar, then played a song for me. I used my iPad to send him pictures of my latest sketches. We talked and listened and breathed for another hour until he finally needed to sleep.
Before we first talked on the phone I dreaded it. My nervous and anxiety-stricken side got the best of me. Now I dreaded hanging up with him, but honestly ... I felt horrible. Like I was using him to deal with the hole Donovan was leaving in my heart.
I didn't want to be that girl.
So I watched the shadows on my ceiling as the streetlight flickered outside. The air conditioner hummed in the background. And I considered telling Alistair I needed some time to think and process things. Then, maybe if I felt better we could still meet in October.
Our long conversations at night made it impossible to think clearly. My heart was so messed up. For years I avoided my feelings for Donovan. I could avoid them because he was always there. His arms around me without the threat of a kiss or a relationship. Now, though, Alistair awakened this part of me. I swear the boy slapped some wires on my heart and brought me back to life. I felt things. Things I never felt before. I smiled more. Laughed more. Loved more. Because of that sweet British boy.
But I could no longer deny the feelings I had for my best friend. Those endless summer nights as we watched the sun go down. Snow days full of hot cocoa and Frosty the snowman wars, where we challenged each other to see who could build the ultimate snowman. Being an artist and him a sports guy, I always won and it ended in snowball fight tickle wars. He was the first person I called when I passed my drivers license test and the last person who'd ever hurt me. Really hurt me.
