Heart on a String

by Susan Soares

  I gave her the sign for one minute and went to find Taylor. Something about how Zoe was acting was freaking me out, and I needed to find out what was going on. After a long eye roll, Taylor agreed to let me take my fifteen-minute break.

  “Hey,” I said when I approached her. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you come into the store?”

  She raised her head to look at me, and I could see the tell-tale redness in her eyes that let me know she’d been crying. “It’s over.”

  “What’s over?”

  “Me and Darren. We… we broke up.” She pressed her lips together as if trying to retract the words.

  Darren and Zoe had been dating for over a year. I wasn’t quite sure how she’d handle this. “Are you okay?”

  She forced out a smile. “Yeah, I mean it was pretty much mutual.” Meaning not so mutual on her part, but she was holding it together like a trooper.

  I linked my arm with hers. “Let’s go to the food court.”

  We were sitting across from each other. She was checking her eye makeup in a handheld mirror, making sure none of her mascara had smudged. We had ordered two smoothies from Freshly Made, but they were going to take a minute since they were just finishing cleaning out the machine. There was so much I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell Zoe about the kiss. The warm, soft, sweet kiss that Brandon and I had shared just a few hours ago, but I couldn’t. It’s one of the worst feelings ever when you’re on cloud nine about something, and your best friend is having one of the worst days of her life. Not that I thought this would destroy Zoe or anything, as she’s much stronger than that, but no one comes out of a break-up completely unscathed.

  “So be honest, Zoe, are you okay?” I finally asked.

  She gave me her signature sly grin. “Of course, my sweet Marissa. I’m going to be fine. I just… wanted to see you.” She twisted a napkin around in her hand. “Rissa?”

  There was a moment of silence. “Yeah?”

  “Am I… going to be okay?” She looked up at me, and her eyes were questioning. Like those of a child who asks you if Santa Claus exists.

  Before I could respond, Rob from Freshly Made was standing at our table with our drinks. “Here we go, ladies. One raspberry-orange smoothie for my friend Marissa, and one banana-coconut-peach smoothie for a new friend I hope to make.” He flashed a smile to Zoe as he set her drink down in front her.

  “Rob, this is Zoe. Zoe, Rob.” I said. The two exchanged head nods.

  “I have to say I’m mad at you, Marissa,” Rob said to me.

  “Me? For what?”

  Rob crossed his arms over his chest, causing his muscles to flex. “For not telling me about this ravishing friend of yours sooner.”

  Oh ick. I’ve never been comfortable around flirting.

  Zoe straightened up in her chair and flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Now I’m mad at Marissa too. How dare she not tell me about her friend Rob.” Again with the cheesy smile exchange.

  To settle the nausea in my stomach, I took a sip of my smoothie. Rob and Zoe shared another minute or two of sickening flirting before his boss called him back to work.

  Zoe’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously, he’s cute.” She took a sip of her drink while making eyes at Rob, who was doing his best at pretending to not know she was watching him as he chopped up some strawberries.

  “Hello?” I knocked on her forehead gently. “Aren’t you the girl who just came to me with bloodshot eyes and all broken-hearted?” Not that I meant that to come out meanly, but it kind of did.

  “Marissa, I told you it was mutual. So, is this Rob guy single?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend, or I might have to tell you how shallow you can be.”

  She threw her straw wrapper at me. “Ha. Shallow. Yeah, right. I’ll have you know, my dear friend, that I’m very aware of everything and everyone around me. Like I know that Rob guy is still watching me right now.” She was right; he was. “And I also know that you have something to tell me.” She swirled her straw around in her cup.

  “What do you mean?” I pulled some of my hair in front of my face hoping to make a curtain to hide my flushed cheeks, but I couldn’t avoid her gaze. “All right I do have some news,” I said, and Zoe leaned in closer to me. “Brandon and I kissed.”

  “Shut up!” Zoe slapped her hand loudly on the table, and some onlookers glared at us. “When?”

  I smiled, reliving the memory. “When he dropped me back home after our day at the beach.”

  “This is huge.” Zoe was gleaming. “I mean huge! Are you guys like dating now? I’m flipping out here!”

  I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Were we dating or were we just caught up in the moment? Having ditched school all day, the sun, the beach, the conversation, the kiss was like the natural crescendo to the day. It was like the waves breaking against the shore at the end of a long summer day.

  “I don’t… I don’t know,” I stammered, and then the alarm on my phone went off. “Ugh, I have to go back to work.” Rob and Zoe exchanged a flirtatious wave goodbye, and she walked me back to the store, chatting the entire time about the kiss. Of course, I didn’t mind retelling the details.

  I worked the last hour of my shift in a peaceful dreamland. Remembering the sun on my face, the way the light made those gold flecks come alive in Brandon’s eyes, and the kiss. Always the kiss.

  ****

  The rest of the week seemed to fly by between school and work and… Brandon. On Wednesday night, I went out for ice cream with him and his family. His mom told stories of little Brandon and his fondness for only chocolate chip ice cream. She also mentioned the time he fell asleep in his high chair while licking his bowl clean. To which Brandon turned three shades of red and changed the conversation to the exciting topic of the weather.

  Thursday, I went over to his house for what they called “game night,” which was traditionally called, “family game night.” At first, I didn’t want to intrude, but while Brandon and I were on the phone together, Brandon’s mother was in the background insisting that I come over, and I couldn’t say no to her. We played hand after hand of gin rummy. It was nice to be with Brandon, to be with all of them — their little family unit. It was apparent that Bobby’s death had brought them closer together. That’s what I thought would have happened after my mom died. I wanted family game night with Marc and Gram. Really, I just wanted Marc to come home. Or call me. Or send me an email just to say he still loved me. At the very least, to say he still loved me.

  ****

  Friday morning, Brandon and I were standing near my locker before the first bell was about to ring. I was studying his hands as they held mine. His long sturdy fingers wrapped warmly around mine. The way they could completely encase my hands made me feel as fuzzy as an angora sweater.

  “So there’s this thing I’m going to tonight, and I wanted to invite you along,” he said while looking at the corners of my mouth.

  I nervously bit the inside of my cheek. “What thing?”

  He looked into my eyes. “It’s kind of geeky so don’t judge, okay?” I crossed my heart. “It’s a Poe-Party. As in Edgar Allan. A bunch of us are having a little ‘Poebration’ at the library.”

  I didn’t mean to, but I snickered.

  “See,” he said, “I told you it was a little geeky.”

  I covered my smile with my hand. “No, it’s not.” I chuckled again, and he raised an eyebrow at me. “I’d love to go.”

  He looked relieved. “There’s just one more thing.”

  He suddenly looked nervous.

  “What?” My heart beat rapidly.

  “You have to dress up. Like Poe.” He looked at me with trepidation, trying to feel out my reaction.

  “I… um,” I stammered and the bell rang. “I…”

  He kissed me on the cheek and whispered, “Just kidding.”

  As he walked away, I tossed my pen at him.

  ****

  Brandon smiled when I opened t
he door. He was right on time to pick me up. After he looked my outfit up and down, he stood for a moment as if taking it all in.

  “Very Poe,” he said.

  Even though he tricked me about the dressing up part, I wanted to make some sort of statement. So I was dressed in black from head to toe. I donned a black T-shirt with black lace sleeves, tight black jeans, and black knee-high boots with two-inch heels. For my hair, I slicked it back into a high ponytail. My makeup was minimal eye shadow and a dark berry lip color.

  “Do you think Poe would approve?” I put my hand on my hip.

  Brandon’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “I think he’d roll over in his grave.”

  I cringed at the word “grave” and grabbed my jacket before I headed out the door.

  When we walked into the community room of the library, I was actually surprised to see about twenty to thirty people there, and most of them were dressed like me. Black was the big color of the night. Brandon looked comfy in his olive green cargo pants and black T-shirt. He always looked relaxed and comfortable. I, on the other hand, almost always felt stressed or self-conscious, but being around Brandon made a little bit of that go away.

  I took in the decor of the community room. Spider webs had been strewn about the room with tiny spiders tucked in every corner. A few ravens were perched on top of the bookshelves. On the buffet table, there were plates of cookies in shapes inspired by Poe: ravens, skulls, typewriters. Centered in the middle of the table was an old-fashioned typewriter with a piece of paper in it that had the beginning of one of Poe’s stories typed out on it. There was a garland of skeleton keys roped around the windows. Stacks of Poe books were placed around the room, each stack topped with either a skull or rat or framed photo of Poe.

  “I can tell you’re surprised it’s more than just you and me here.” Brandon leaned over and said to me. His breath was warm on my neck, and I felt an electrical surge on my skin.

  “A little. But it’s cool. The decorations are awesome. And I can’t wait to eat one of those typewriter cookies.” I grabbed a cookie and got crumbs all down the front of my black shirt as I took a bite.

  Brandon laughed heartily. “I like you, Marissa.” He said it in a way that was so matter of fact, like there was no question to it. It made my belly flip-flop. “They’re going to start the readings now. Let’s grab a seat.” He took my hand, and we walked over to the area of folding chairs.

  A woman with straight, brown hair that went down to her waist walked up to the front of the room to the open area before the chairs. She pulled over a stool and sat down. She took out a pair of fifties-style reading glasses and put them on. Then she began to read a selection of Poe’s most famous poems. I had to admit, she was a bit intoxicating. Or maybe it was the incense that was burning in the room that made me feel a bit heady.

  “So, did she read your favorite poem?” Brandon asked after taking a sip of blood-red punch.

  “Is that your subtle way of trying to figure out my favorite?” I took a bite of my third typewriter cookie; they were so yummy.

  Brandon’s eyes danced again. “You see right through me.”

  He peered into my eyes, and I had to look away. His gaze made me feel so defenseless sometimes, a feeling I wasn’t comfortable with.

  But being there, with him, without any pretenses or game plan, I wanted to let him know me, even if it was only a tiny piece of me. I took a deep breath before I spoke. “Dream within a dream,” I said.

  Immediately he began quoting, “I stand amid the roar, Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand, Grains of the golden sand-, How few! yet how they creep, Through my fingers to the deep.”

  His voice was vast, and it ran through every cell in my body, and I wanted to ignite into a flame. He must have noticed the dreamy look on my face because he continued after giving me a sly grin. “O God! can I not save, One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem, But a dream within a dream?”

  He looked at me, his eyes were warm, and they seemed to sparkle like fresh snow in mid-afternoon sun.

  I grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him toward me, and kissed him. There were a few whistles from the others in the room, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel the heat of his lips on mine, to feel his chest pressed against mine, and to embrace his hands that wrapped around my waist.

  When our lips parted, he had a dreamy look on his face. “Okay, from now on I will only be quoting Poe each and every time we’re together.” He wiped fake sweat from his brow, and I playfully nudged him in his side.

  He moved in to kiss me once more, but our kiss was interrupted when his cell phone buzzed loudly. “Man, the vibrate is as loud as the ringer,” he said as he pulled the phone from his pocket to check the text message. “My mom needs eggs.” He laughed. “Only my mom gets the urge to make brownies at nine o’clock on a Friday night. Oh, that reminds me. My mom wants to invite you and your family over for dinner. Is there a night that’s good for you guys?”

  It was as if all the light bulbs in the room shattered around me. Everything seemed to go dark. My once-perfect moment of Brandon’s lips on mine was now entirely erased by his simple request to have dinner with my family. I dropped the typewriter cookie to the floor and grabbed at my stomach. As I put my hand to my mouth, I complained of feeling sick. Clutching my stomach, I impolitely excused myself to the bathroom, where I sat knobby-kneed wondering what in the world I was going to do now.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Often, I wondered if she could hear me in her little piece of Heaven. There were times right after she died that I thought she was haunting me. Not haunting like in a bad way; I just felt like she was still around me. Like the night I couldn’t fall asleep and suddenly there was a fragrant rush of the scent of her perfume filling the air around me. I walked out into the hallway to see if the scent was there too, but it wasn’t. It was only in my room.

  Or the day I found pennies everywhere I went. It’s been said that if you find lots of pennies, it’s the spirit of someone who’s passed on giving you a sign. On the ground near my car, there were two pennies. Resting on the passenger seat, there was another one. Inside my locker at school, there were three of them. In each pocket of my jeans, they were hidden. Even at the bottom of my sneakers!

  Then there was Barry Manilow, as in Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana”. It was my mother’s favorite song, and every time I turned on the radio one week, that song was playing. On one of my preset radio stations that never before had played a Barry Manilow song, there it was blasting loud and clear. Barry’s voice singing about Lola with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there. Even when I went to the mall, there it was. Copacabana. I imagined my mother singing her heart out in Heaven, probably annoying her neighbors.

  ****

  It was Sunday afternoon. The last time I had spoken to Brandon was when he dropped me back home Friday night after the fiasco at the Poe party. I claimed to be sick and asked him to be quiet during the drive because my head hurt. At least the headache was true. He had texted me throughout the weekend to see how I was doing, and I would wait a while and then text back that I was still pretty out of it and would be taking a nap. He offered to come over with chicken soup that his mother had made, but I refused. I felt like a horrible person.

  It was like I carried this cinderblock on my shoulders. A stone carved of my secrets. My family, my pain, my fears. Even though my rational side told me that I was being an idiot. The irrational side of me — the one that was winning this battle — knew that if he found out about my family he was going to judge me or pity me. Maybe without even meaning to, he would pity me a little. That could cause him to see me differently. Or talk to me differently. I didn’t want to do anything that would change his impression of me. He seemed to like me a lot, and I didn’t want anything to change that.

  Monday morning. I didn’t feel like running my usual route outside. The thought of running past the cemetery where I first found the
balloon sent a bad chill over my body. Most days I didn’t mind, but after ignoring Brandon all weekend I just couldn’t do it. So I decided to go to school early and run the outdoor track. It wasn’t as scenic, obviously, but it was mindless, and that was kind of what I needed.

  After I had completed my fifth mile, I realized the irony of my run. There I was going in circles, ending up nowhere. Much as I was in my life. I didn’t pursue anything. I didn’t accomplish anything. I ran but never entered races. I studied but never pushed to get A’s. I dressed appropriately, nothing that ever stood out. I had been a wallflower my entire school career. I had one best friend, and that was it. And I was dating a guy I was afraid to tell one of the main facets of my life. With the heaviness of my mind giving me a headache, I circled the track twice more, completing a sixth mile, and all I could envision was a hamster on its stupid exercise wheel. Going around, again and again.

  I showered and changed in the girls’ locker room. Then I went to my car to drop off my running gear. It was already warm at eight a.m. so I left my driver side window partially open. At my locker, I was gathering my books for class when Zoe bounded up behind me.

  “Why have you ignored me all weekend?” she demanded. “I mean, being your best friend is supposed to deem me priority in your life.”

  I checked my hair in my locker mirror; it was a wet, wavy mess so I threw it into a topknot bun. “I’m sorry. I just needed to hermit-out this weekend.” When I closed my locker I got a good look at her face. She looked like she was a champagne bottle whose cork was about to burst. “Okay, you have something to tell me, don’t you?”

  “I went out with Rob Saturday!” She beamed.

  “Who? Wait, Rob… as in Freshly Made Rob?”

  She laughed. “Yes, and he’s so awesome! Shame on you for never pointing him out to me before.” She shoved my shoulder.