by Susan Oloier
The doorbell rings again and I open it. Layla and Erik lead the way. Behind them are Cal and Stella. She chats it up with Cal already, though I know they’ve just met on my doorstep. Stella follows him into the house, stares wide-eyed at me, and mouths: “He’s hot!”
“I know,” I mouth back with a smile. My parents pretend not to notice.
“Is Eli here yet?” Stella says, casually, as if she didn’t just totally trip over her open jaw a moment earlier.
“Not yet.”
“We’ll be upstairs,” my mom says, “if you need us.”
“Thanks.”
I fidget with my shirtfront, wring my hands like a crazy woman, hoping upon hope he’ll show up.
“He’ll be here,” Stella says, taking hold of my hands to still them. “Don’t worry.”
I swallow hard and nod. While I wait, I introduce everyone.
“It’s okay, Hailey,” Cal tells me. “We all met outside coming in.” There’s a look behind his eyes—an apprehensive one. I know it has to do with Eli.
“Is your new friend coming?” Layla asks. “Eli?” There’s a devious smirk on her face that I hope Cal doesn’t notice. What he thinks means everything to me. Things didn’t start out so well with Eli when Cal first ran into him downtown. I want that to change. I want Jeremy’s friends to accept him.
The doorbell. My heart absolutely races. I wipe my hands on my pants, take a deep breath, and head for the door. When I open it, my insides suddenly calm at the sight of Eli.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
I stand aside and let him pass. He’s like the caged animal everyone gazes upon, but he takes it in stride.
“This is Eli,” I say by way of introduction. Everyone waves, says hi as I make the round of names. Eli seems relieved to spy Stella. Then, unexpectedly, Cal reaches out a hand to Eli. They both shake, and I’m finally feel able to breathe.
Everyone heads for the food and drinks. Stella sidles up beside Cal. He doesn’t seem to mind. At all.
“Can I take your coat?” I ask Eli.
“You can take whatever you want,” he says sweetly, sincerely.
In that moment, with those words, I take hold of Eli’s hand, my fingers wrapped around his infinity tattoo, and lead him off to the side, away from the others. He lets me. His eyes connect with mine, and I know. I just know.
I go to the table where I set the basket and remove a violet from it. It still holds a vice grip on life, it’s not yet withered. I take Eli’s hand and turn it palm up and notice his tattoo, exposed and vulnerable. I place the violet in his palm.
“Violets—for faithfulness,” I say.
Eli’s eyes lock on mine and he reaches out with his free hand, touching the scar on my forehead softly as he runs his fingers over the flesh as if to erase it.
I close my eyes and soak in his tender touch.
Then Eli rests his own forehead to mine. His fingers explore my face, my jaw. Then he opens his mouth against mine in a delicate kiss. “For faithfulness,” he says against my lips, and I kiss him back.
He pulls back, cups my face, and studies me. “I finished the song,” he says. “For you.”
“We don’t have a piano.”
“That’s okay,” Eli says, running both his eyes and his fingers over my face as though I might just disappear. “I can hear it in here.” He places my hand over his heart. “Can you?”
I nod.
“We’re meant to be together, Hailey. You feel it, too, right?”
I glance down at his wrist, and I know he mistakes this gesture for doubt. But there’s no confusion on my part at all.
“I’m sorry, Hailey,” he says, withdrawing the touch I so desperately want on me. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No,” I tell him, placing a finger over his lips. “It’s this,” I say, holding his wrist, indicating the tattoo.
He looks puzzled. “It’s not about another girl if…” But Eli halts his words as I turn, pull up my hair, and show him the exact same infinity tattoo on the back of my neck. He touches it to drive the reality home.
“We are meant to be together. We have been from the moment we met,” I say.
“Wow, that’s…”
I don’t let him finish because I kiss him until I don’t know where I’ve begun and where he’s ended.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Somehow the thank-you portion of writing seems the hardest. It always feels so inadequate, not fully encompassing the gratitude I feel for those who have stuck with me through my writing journey. But I’ll give it my all.
Many thanks to my parents for instilling a strong work ethic in me. Often it is my perseverance that serves as the flashlight along the frequent darkness of a writer’s life. Without my parents showing me the value of hard work, I wouldn’t be where I am today. While talent may sometimes be inherent, it can also be learned. I have traveled this writing road for over seventeen years. The key is always to strive to be better and to never give up.
A multitude and many-colored thank you cards should be sent to all my writer friends who have supported, encouraged, and stuck with me through thick and thin: Rebecca Green Gasper, a friend, writing partner, cheerleader, as well as talented writer and artist; Julie Flanders for always offering encouraging words through every book I publish; Michael Di Gesu for helping me through challenging times and for always being on the sidelines to push me toward my full potential; and to the writers at Write On Build On who give me daily pats on the back.
To the many other writer friends who make this art form the absolute best because of their undying support: J.L. Campbell, Medeia Sharif, Theresa Milstein, Sharon Mayhew, Robyn Campbell, and S.A. Larsen. Plus the many more I am forgetting.
Hugs, kisses, and unconditional love to my beautiful boys who willingly (and sometimes unwillingly) play by themselves to allow me time to write. I’m forever aware that we’re all sacrificing days and times that can never be recaptured, all for the sake of my writing. For that, I am both grateful and sad. Thanks to Jeff for continuing to humor me with my writing.
Finally, thank you to my readers. Without you, living the life of a writer would be so much less fulfilling. I appreciate all of you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Oloier is the author of My Life as a Misfit, Fractured, Superstitions, and Outcast. She has written both fiction and narrative non-fiction. Her articles and essays have appeared online, as well as in regional and national publications, such as The Daily Beast. She can be found on her blog at www.susanoloier.blogspot.com and is also a contributor at Moxie Writers, www.moxiewriters.blogspot.com, a website that covers the latest issues in YA.
Susan lives in Arizona with her family and is working on a chapter book series with her older son.
