by Rose Fall
The night she found out about her parent’s divorce, she had been completely devastated.
“What happened?” I’d asked when I finally got to the house.
“My mom was having an affair.”
I was shocked and confused. Her parents always seemed so happy together, like newlyweds rather than a couple that had been together for two decades. They seemed to genuinely love each other. They finished each other’s sentences and hung out like they still weren’t tired of each other; I’d never even seen them fight.
“My dad wants nothing to do with her…and I don’t blame him.”
I saw the way it turned her world upside down, because so much of her optimism was based on the relationship her parents had. I was perplexed because I was pretty happy when my parents told me they were getting a divorce. More so, I was relieved. Besides, most of my friends’ parents were divorced. In my eyes, it was almost like a rite of passage.
“It’s like my life is a lie.”
Although I couldn’t understand why Ash looked like she’d been told her parents were dying instead of getting a divorce, I sort of felt sad too. And for a minute I saw things through her eyes. And then I started to understand why she was so devastated.
Ashton had always believed in true love, the kind you read about in fairytale books. I think her parents really inspired that belief, so now, not only did she feel betrayed by her mother, she felt like she had been lied to by the world.
Nowhere in her fairytales did the princess run off and have an affair. For Ashton, this whole thing made her question love in general, and most importantly, it made her very afraid because she was falling in love.
Nothing could make her first love more fragile than the collapse of the relationship she looked up to and admired her whole life. I could see how she was losing everything she believed in, like a disillusioned child.
“I don’t know how to fix this,” she’d said.
I looked down at something I had stepped on.
I picked up an envelope that said Ashton on the front and pulled out the note inside.
"Ash, it's from Julian."
She barely looked up.
“Speaking of Julian, I haven't seen him around lately.”
I walked towards her with the letter.
“I’m not in the mood for company,” she replied.
“That’s fair,” I nodded. And after all, I was never entirely sure about Julian. But I’d been certain that she was. I looked at her meaningfully, “But if you wait too long, he might not be around when you are in the mood.”
Though I knew she understood, she dismissed my words, apparently trying to solve a riddle written on her comforter.
I assumed her disinterest meant I would have to read the letter to her. I began:
Dear Ashton,
Divorce sucks but what can you do? Want to get ice cream? I miss you.
Sincerely,
The only person you know who could write such an articulate letter.
I immediately wished I hadn’t read it. Was that supposed to make her feel better? Maybe it ran in the family...
Ash didn't say a word; she didn't seem to know what to think either. After a moment, she motioned for me to hand it to her.
Without glancing at it she began ripping it, slowly and meticulously. First in half, then she ripped those halves, and she ripped it again for good measure before handing it to me.
She fell back into her bed, her face buried underneath a sea of pillows.
"Okay...," I said, confused.
I stared down at all the broken pieces.
What the hell was I supposed to do with them?
The Truth About Lies
Even through closed eyelids, I felt the sudden brightness that filled my room. I groaned, not wanting to open my eyes to confront my visitor. I’d been sleeping a lot more than usual lately, which meant that I’d started to lose my sense of time. But I certainly didn’t feel like I’d been sleeping long enough to get woken up.
“Come on Elle, time waits for no woman.”
I recognized Rachel’s voice, but I reasoned that this was part of my dream since Rachel wasn’t even talking to me. Then I felt that terrible sensation of having the covers pulled away. My eyes snapped open in annoyance.
“What do you want Rachel?” I groaned.
She ignored me, going into my closet and pulling out clothes. A tennis shoe hit the side of the bed.
“You know I can’t go running,” I said exasperatedly. I closed my eyes again.
“No,” she agreed. I felt her voice coming closer, she stood right over me. “But you can go walking.”
“I don’t want to!” I exclaimed, imitating the guttural tone Lauren used when she didn’t get her way.
“Doctor said you’re supposed to resume normal activity,” she said. I felt her motioning for me to scoot over with her hands. I obeyed and felt her take a seat on the bed.
I opened my eyes just a sliver to study her expression, “I didn’t know you were even talking to me.”
She sighed, “This is important Elle. You’ve been a lazy bum these past few weeks and it’s not going to help you recover.”
“Gee thanks,” I mumbled sarcastically.
She shrugged as if to say, ‘I’m just telling the truth.’
“First you used Ryan as an excuse, and now you’re using my recovery. I think you’re just desperate to hang out with me,” I said teasingly.
“You’re right, I’m actually obsessed with you,” she deadpanned.
I let out a long sigh, “There’s no getting out of this is there?”
It was a rhetorical question. Rachel always got her way. I got up and dressed quickly. Anyway, I knew she was right about me being “a lazy bum” lately.
It was later than the time Rachel usually took her runs, I realized once we were outside. The sun was already coming up.
I could see her forehead creasing the way it always did when she was in deep thought. I tried to wait for her to speak, but my impatience got the best of me.
“The suspense is killing me,” I said.
“Maybe you should let it, cause you’re not gonna like what I have to say,” she replied.
I waited.
“There’s something I just want you to think about today.”
I stopped walking and turned to face her.
“What’s more important to you, your pride or your happiness?”
--
I shook my head, wishing I could shake away thoughts about me and Rachel’s walk this morning. She never bothered to elaborate on what she’d meant by her question. But I had a nagging feeling it had something to do with Jessie. I didn’t want to believe that I’d somehow fallen behind in maturity and that Rachel was admitting mistakes I still hadn’t been able to face. So I decided to focus on Ash instead.
She looked better today. Slowly, but surely, she was recovering. She even apologized for ripping up the letter, although I wasn’t sure why she apologized to me. She still wouldn’t budge about going to see Julian, so I was relieved to see him when the door rang. As if they hadn’t meddled enough in my life, it was my turn.
She sighed when I hand delivered him to her room, “Eli, why do you hate me?”
I gave her a pitiful look, “Oh sweetie, you’d never make it if I did.”
“Thanks, Eli,” Julian said. He was still standing near then door as if Ash was a wild creature that needed to be approached with caution.
Ash looked up to glare at both of us.
“Go ahead,” I said, motioning towards her, “She won’t bite.”
“Did you get my letter?” He asked, slowly walking up to her.
“Oh, um, I think it’s in the trash. Oops,” she shrugged sarcastically.
I was shocked to see Ashton acting like this, especially with Julian. As I was obliged to be on meddling duty, I decided to stay and make sure this got fixed.
“Ouch,” he said putting a hand to his heart. “Ash, I don’t want you to be
mad at me.”
“You can’t always get what you want.”
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t come over, I thought you’d want some space‒”
“I do now.”
Every word she said made me cringe, was this what I sounded like?
“Ashton,” I said from the doorway, “Do you remember what I told you?”
She looked directly at me, and I was sure she knew exactly what I’d meant.
“I don’t want to talk to either of you.”
‘What’s more important to you, your pride or your happiness?’
The annoying question popped into my head again as I watched them.
He grabbed her hand before she could exit the door, which I was still guarding.
“Ashton,” he said again, as if those two syllables contained everything he needed to say. The way he said them, it sounded as if they did. It was almost too much.
I could see her trying to fight back the all too present tears. He wrapped his arms around her and began to whisper soothing words into her hair. She seemed to surrender completely, in a manner I was both jealous and afraid of.
And then all was well.
I sighed, if only all of the world’s problems could be fixed so easily.
---
“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” I smiled sweetly, pretending I didn’t already know the answer.
I was surprised I could even look at him. But I had come to the conclusion that I was actually just a defective human being. Nothing I said or did matched the way I felt, at least not when it came to him. I could hide shame with playfulness, regret with sarcasm.
“Jessie?” I called when he walked away from his front door, taking his silence as an indication to come in. “Okay, well, I just came to talk to Julian so…”
He stopped mid-walk, finally turning around, “What do you want with Julian?”
“What’s it to you?” I asked, resting my hands on my hips.
He shook his head, turning back around to walk away again.
The truth was, I wanted to see Julian about Ashton. Just this afternoon I was encouraging their reconciliation. But watching them together, my earlier suspicion was reconfirmed. The Julian I saw in real life didn’t exactly match the one in Ash’s diary. It wasn’t that he had done or said anything out of line, it was that he hadn’t. Whereas his easy charm and romantic words seemed earnest is Ash’s diary, today it sounded like he was playing a part. It made me afraid that she saw something in him that wasn’t there, something better than the reality.
“Okay, bye!” I called after him as I ran up the stairs.
I gasped in shock as I ran directly into Julian.
“Careful,” he smiled as he grabbed onto my elbows to steady me; “You have enough injuries as it is.”
My eyes narrowed. Yep, too charming. I cocked my head, trying to read him.
“So you wanted to see me?” He asked after a moment of silence.
“Eavesdropping much?” I retorted without thinking about it.
He gave me a strange look, like he was afraid I would attack him. “Wow, Jessie wasn’t kidding about you,” he mumbled.
“What? What did he say about me?” I asked defensively, wondering what he must think of me if Jessie had formulated his opinion.
“What’s it too you?” He questioned with a stupid smirk on his face. The resemblance made it easy for me to transfer my feelings for his brother onto him, and it took all of my energy not to slap it off his face.
He laughed, as if my anger was somehow amusing, “Come into my lair,” he said creepily, leading me to what I hoped was his room. That was the difference, I decided; both brothers were annoying as hell, but Julian was just plain weird.
“So, how are you doing, Eli?” He squinted at me from the edge of his bed, his manner uncomfortably reminiscent of a therapist’s.
I sat in a nearby rocking chair without waiting for an invitation.
I looked around his room, wondering how anyone could live in such a mess. I noted the record player and guitar, the mess of books sprawled everywhere under layers of clothes and balled up pieces of paper. It was hard to tell the color of his walls as they were completely covered with posters, paintings, and pictures. Notes written in permanent marker filled the gaps in between. His room did not look like it belonged in this house, and I wondered if he was the same way in his family.
“Character flaw,” he shrugged when he noticed me looking around.
‘That’s an understatement.’ If I’d seen the room before I’d met the owner, I probably would have assumed they were currently residing in a psychiatric ward.
“Umm,” I said for lack of words, trying to remember what I’d come here for.
“I want to talk about Ashton,” I said triumphantly, finally managing to focus.
“Didn’t think you were one for small talk,” he smiled.
“No,” I agreed. “I don’t trust you.”
His eyes widened, “I’m not often speechless, Eli.”
“Well, I’m just being honest,” I shrugged. “We both know Ashton is too naïve for her own good‒”
“On the contrary‒”
“I think of it as my job to protect her. And I take my job very seriously.”
“Well, I can respect that Eli, but‒” he’d cut in again.
We’d began talking over each other, but I was determined to get my point across, “She’s very fragile, especially right now. And I’m sure you really are a decent person. But decent people don’t always make good boyfriends,” I said, thinking of Ryan. “I don’t think you’re serious about Ashton. I think she’s some sort of project for you, something to entertain you. And she’s completely serious about you; no one deserves to get their heart broken like that!”
“Well, I guess you know a lot about breaking hearts,” he said accusingly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, already frustrated at how this was turning out.
“What’s that expression?” He sighed, pretending to recall something, “Practice what you preach.”
“Ok!” I exclaimed, getting up, “I’m gonna go before I say something I regret.”
“Wait,” He sighed, rushing to block the door, “Look, I just wish you’d stop playing with my brother’s heart like that, but you know what? He can take care of himself. And as far as Ashton goes, I’m not a bad guy; I’m not going to hurt her. And I have a lot of respect for you, for being so loyal to your friends. But I wish you’d give me the benefit of the doubt. Believe me I know all about not trusting people.” His eyes seemed distant then, like Jessie’s sometimes were, remembering some painful past that neither ever elaborated on.
“You can trust me Eli.” His eyes never left mine; it was as if he were trying to hypnotize me into believing it.
“It’s something you have to earn,” I sighed, looking away.
“Yeah, I get that, and‒”
“Holy crap you have graffiti on your ceiling!”
“It’s a long story,” he said distractedly, scratching his head as I stared in amazement.
“You did it?” I asked, both alarmed and impressed.
“Yes, but-”
“So you’re a guitar playing bookworm with incredible graffiti skills?” I could barely wrap my head around it even as I said it. “You see? I can’t read you, and that’s what worries me,” I admitted, to say he was full of surprises wouldn’t began to cover it.
“Well, I guess you’ll just have to take a leap of faith,” he smiled.
I finally looked away from his ceiling, “Okay, enough with the not-so-subtle hints, I didn’t come here to talk about me.”
“Just thought I’d try,” he shrugged. “You think I’m hard to read?” He asked after a breath.
“I didn’t mean it as a complement,” I clarified.
“No, never that,” he nodded earnestly, “People normally think Jessie’s the one that’s hard to read.”
“Your brother’s an open book,” I rolled
my eyes.
“Really? You think so?”
I nodded.
“Then how come you can’t see the way he feels about you?”
What’s more important, your pride or your happiness?
I shook the thought away. I stared at Julian, in disbelief that I’d fallen for the bait.
“I guess we have an understanding,” I said, deciding to ignore his comment, “Bye Julian.”
“Good talk,” he nodded, “Though unnecessary, Rachel’s already stopped by.”
I turned back towards him before he could retreat into his room.
“What? What did she say?”
“Pretty much the same thing you did,” he shrugged, closing the door to his lair and leaving me to ponder that life-altering information on their stairway.
“Are you okay?” He asked, breaking me out of my trance.
“I’m fine,” I replied quickly, shaking my head.
Jessie nodded, taking that as a cue to walk away again.
“Wait,” I called after him, “Maybe not. If I say I think I’m dying will you talk to me?”
“Are you?” He asked, a small smile on his face, and I sighed in relief that he was finally smiling at me again.
I met him near the bottom of the steps. “Well, don’t sound so hopeful, you’re going to hurt my feelings,” I said, playfully nudging him after he’d sat down beside me on the steps.
“Thought you didn’t have any,” he replied, I could feel his eyes burning holes into my face, even as I stared down at the brace on my wrist.
“Well, it will be our secret,” I replied quietly, finally returning his gaze.
“You’re ok?” He asked after a while, his furrowed eyebrows reminding me of the expression I’d woken up to in the hospital.
“I can’t believe you still care,” I murmured, making a point to remember this moment as another instance I could look back on, where I’d know that I’d told him the truth.
“I always will,” he said, sounding so certain of it. His tone turned mocking, “And if you don’t know that by now, you’re definitely not as smart as I gave you credit for.”
“You’re so sweet to me,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
I jumped at his touch; his rough hands were on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him. He stared as if he were trying to see through me, and I could tell there was much he wanted to say, but he choose to kiss me instead. I was frightened by the force, the feeling that his lips were trying to communicate messages his voice hadn’t found the courage to say. Messages I was trying so desperately to reject, but I felt being branded into my lips against my will. I’d never felt this kind of powerless before, and even as I gasped for breath when he’d finally pulled away, my eyes remained glued to his.
