by LK Thompson
Mom spun around startled at my sudden presence, and Roy looked relieved. Mom kissed me on the head and said, “You goin’ to visit Harlow, honey? Tell her I’m praying for her. Poor thing. You heard about the accident, didn’t you, Roy? Oh you must’ve. It’s everywhere.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her. Thanks Mom!” And then to Roy I asked, “So, you wanna come?”
He answered, “Uh, sure. You know, I never even asked you—do you have a license?”
“Roy, of course I do! I’m eighteen, remember?” I laughed, and explained, “I got it yesterday, if you can believe it.” Minutes later, I was explaining my mission of becoming a better person and somehow winning Harlow’s trust back, when he interrupted me, “Bella. I gotta tell you something.”
My stomach rumbled. No. No. No.
“Don’t call me that, Roy. You know my real name.”
“Okay, Eleanor. I have to tell you something.”
“What?” I tried to sound cool, but my teeth were chattering. Roy cleared his throat. “Mike’s not being honest with you.”
I rolled my eyes without thinking, “Here we go. Why? What do you mean?”
Roy groaned, “Listen. I don’t wanna say this just as much as you don’t wanna hear it. It’s clear that you guys are an item, but if he’s telling you that he’s committed to you—just know he isn’t. There’s this other girl—the one you saw in the parking lot when he was trying to make you jealous. Her name’s Cara and they dated before you were in the picture and she’s been coming around more and more, sitting in the parking lot, waiting for his shifts to start. Waiting for them to end. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt because I remember him telling Jimmy that she was clingy, but last night I saw him kiss her. Like, not as a friend.”
I stared into the passenger side mirror—the color in my face drained. Stupidly, I asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Crystal made me sneak outside to confirm it.” Roy turned to me as we parked in the visitor lot of the hospital. “Telling you this doesn’t make me feel good. I’m sorry Eleanor. Really, I am.”
My insides liquified and began spilling out from me. I was jelly-goo. A gelatinous nothing. “It’s okay,” I lied. I had to hide my feelings. Roy couldn’t see them. I cleared my throat, “I’ve gotta deliver this card, wanna come with?”
“You bet. And Bella?” He tugged at my arm until I turned to face him.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad we became friends. Even if everything falls to shit with Mike and you don’t wanna work at Jimmy’s anymore, I’m glad I met you. It’s nice to know people like you exist.”
“People like who?” My voice was shaky.
“The decent kind, without an inch of bad.”
I know he can’t see all the bad I’ve done and I almost remind him of it all, but selfishly I can’t because with his words the plummeting sensation slows enough for me to walk calmly into the hospital and do what I’m meant to do. Be a good person. Not for Mike. For Harlow.
2/17
I couldn’t mention it. Mike met me at the pier and I had every intention of asking him about what Roy had divulged. “How was your shift,” I asked, inhaling the familiar scent of his truck. Leather, cologne, and his air freshener all combined to make me feel a very specific way. Home. By now, the smell and the music were a real feeling. An entirely new emotion wrapped up in my senses. I’d been there too many times. Months of my life were in that truck.
“My shift? Always the same. Mr. Olender was there and he brought Marta a ring.”
I laughed, “No way! What kind?”
“Not sure, but you know Marta. Just threw it in the pile with the others. She might prove me wrong one of these days and meet Mr. Right. She’s got a long list of contenders.” Mike winked at me, and said, “Anyway, I was thinking. Tonight should be special. You’ve been going through so much—I wanna help. Look what I brought,” He unveiled an iPad. “Downloaded the Jason Bourne trilogy last night. Wanna watch one? Thought it could be cool, with the ocean in the background. I mean, if you won’t come to my condo, I figured I’d bring it to you.”
Mike knelt over the middle console to balance the iPad precariously. He climbed out and opened the backdoor, “Come on, we’ll sit in the back—like we’re at the movies.”
It was clear he’d vacuumed the trunk since my bike had been a passenger and he tilted our seats flat and propped six pillows behind us. I laughed, “Where’d you get so many pillows?”
“Stole every last one from my place. Don’t let me forget to bring them in later—my neck’ll be broken. Text me a reminder, okay?” Then, he covered our laps with two thick blankets and displayed two glasses, real ones, and a bottle of champagne.
Aside from the dressing room filled with flowers, this was the most romantic situation I’d ever been in.
Roy’s conversation replayed in my mind. What did all of this mean? Up until this point, Mike had been perfectly respectful of my boundaries. No sex. Would this effort mean he wanted more? Did I? Could he really being dating the blonde if he were here with me?
I knew the answer loud and clear: yes.
Because I could do it too. I’d practiced all year. And knowing that brought me the ultimate solace. We’re the same. Capable of hurting the people we like because we want more. More, more, more. We don’t understand boundaries.
Then again, I’d let Craig go. I only wanted Mike, once and for all. I worried that I might not really be so cold hearted. If I accepted this gesture, I could easily find myself in a dangerous territory where I was infatuated with Mike, more than he was with me. And if I went there and he hurt me—if Roy wasn’t lying—then, I’d be crushed.
We clinked our glasses and leaned backwards, the blankets heavy and comforting, the moonroof open to the stars. It was dark and cold outside, the air stinging the tears in my eyes as I smiled, so happy. When he kissed me, I didn’t pull away or say anything more, because this was where I was meant to be, I could feel it. I closed my eyes and kissed him hungrily, as if I could feel the forbidden nature of our meeting. Could it last? My heart ached as if he were going off to war. It was sad, almost. I wanted his love so badly. It was like he always said, he needed me. I needed him.
We slept together under the stars and I don’t know how I’ll ever recover. He was elated, but I was too. It was nothing like with Jake. This was love.
2/18
I had to see it with my own eyes.
I knew that if it kept me awake all night long after such a magical experience, it meant something. Roy wouldn’t lie. I arrived to work a full hour early to sit across the street in the desolate parking lot of Chevy’s Mexican Cantina—a restaurant currently undergoing a full renovation. I perched on a temporary cement divider with the Jimmy’s sign in the distance and I observed the traffic pulling into the lot, some familiar faces, some new. Men who acknowledged one another casually as they clicked the buttons on their key fobs, a commonality between them. A fleeting thought in my mind wondered what kind of tippers they’d be. Jimmy’s was amazing at one thing, bringing in money.
It was below freezing, but Mike was there just as I knew he’d be, talking to the blonde girl, the two of them casually resting against the door to his truck. The fog from their cold breath encompassed them.
The girl was small and fragile looking—pointy edges, gaunt cheeks. My heart prickled at the sight. She stood with her arms crossed nervously, palms hugging her elbows. Her neck craned to watch Mike as he spoke to her and she looked completely enthralled with whatever he were saying. He was a beautiful statue in a museum. Untouchable to the world, but her. Her pale face glowed in his presence.
She said something and Mike dipped his head to hers. He patted her on the shoulder gently, a caring gesture—almost that of a brother or friend. But then, he looked around and kissed her on the forehead. And then lightly on her lips. He hugged her, squeezing her body into his. Though his actions were slow and careful, nothing like the way he acted with me, there was no con
fusing it. These were not friends.
I knew as the minutes crept on that Mike would sense my arrival and shoo the girl away. I could already tell he was fidgeting more and not paying as close attention to her as he was minutes prior. So I stared for one long beat to really breathe it all in. Once I was sure it was a permanent stain on my brain, I stood to mount my bike and glide across the busy street. I skid to a stop at the bike rack and Mike jumped, as if I’d been dropped from the sky. He’d expected me to get there the minute my shift began, not ten before, and surprising him felt so good, I had to bite my cheek to keep from smiling. Wordlessly, I passed them both to go inside.
Of course Roy wouldn’t lie. I believed him the second he told me, but it didn’t stop me from sleeping with Mike in his truck and from Mike texting to say he loved me.
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.
I tossed and turned all night, thoughts flooded with every word he’s ever whispered to me. The image of all of those flowers crowding the dressing room. How special I’d felt. So grown up and adored. I ignored him until morning, responding simply, See you later.
Later implies I’m on the schedule to work. Later implies that we aren’t done in any way shape or form. And yet, when I arrived, I was able to see it all for myself. I even watched from the kitchen as his demeanor changed. He ranted to the girl and scared her away. Banished back to where she came from, I suppose. She’s weak and scared at the change, scurrying to the darkness.
No matter how hurt I was, I wasn’t blindsided. Roy warned me. And seeing Mike toss her away like a piece of boardwalk litter, gave me the strength to confront him.
“Who’s that girl, Mike?” I asked, “I know you’re not just friends.”
He sighed dramatically, tensing up, “Oh stop. Did someone tell you something that wasn’t true?” He sneered in Roy’s direction. “They’re just trying to rile you up. Probably jealous of what we have.”
I remained calm, “Nobody told me anything. I can see you’re more than nothing. So, who is she?”
Mike threw his hands in the air, “Unreal. Of all people, I didn’t think you’d be so insecure over me having a girl as a friend.”
I offered him a half smile as I moved about the bar, diligently filling my test tube shots. I felt powerful. “You can have friends, Mike.” I said, “You can have girlfriends. But, don’t tell me I’m insecure when you’re the one kissing girls in the parking lot! What if it were me kissing boys at work? Would you be cool with that?”
“Like you haven’t? How would I know!”
My heart physically hurt at the accusation. I was so infatuated with Mike—he was my whole year. How didn’t he see that? Jimmy emerged from his office and my cheeks burned. “Bella, can I have a word with you?”
Mike vanished and Jimmy spoke in a softer tone than usual. “Hey, it’s gonna be a slow day. Why don’t you go home and take a break from this place.”
I’m not proud of making a scene, but what was I supposed to do?! In my driveway Mike texted, Maybe it’s best we take a breather. Things were probably getting a little too intense anyway.
My response: Perfect.
Then, I called Craig to tell him everything. I didn’t want to, but it was the only way, I’d ever be able to look at myself again. I’d been a liar to him all year and now I was done. I wrote, I don’t know how you’ll take this, but I haven’t been honest with you. It started with Jake cheating on me. I made a vow—to never be stepped on again. So, I promised myself to reject any thoughts of exclusivity. No more boyfriends or bowing down to the opposite sex. I was going to live this year for me and me only. Anyone I wanted to date, I dated, including a coworker of mine while I was also spending time with you. I used you and I’m sorry. In my defense, you were supposed to be a jerk. Why’d you have to be so damn wonderful to me?
Craig was speechless for a long time. Then, slowly he put the pieces together. I’d affected his senior year in a horrible way and he wanted to make sense of it. Wow. That’s why you didn’t want to be exclusive. Why would you lead me on? Did you even like me? Why did you kiss me at Jake’s Halloween party that night? Why me? Was that him in the driveway that day? The guy you said was Roy. What did he say when he saw me? How old is he?
He has questions. I tried to answer each and every one honestly. As painful as it is. And at the end of the conversation, he simply says, I can’t believe how much I liked you. Derek’s been trying to set me up with Annabelle Gray for months and I’ve never even entertained it. Guess I should.
Tears crowded my eyes as I realized what I’d done, and I haven’t stopped crying since. I’ve been awful and I hate myself more than ever.
2/19
I woke up angry.
There was a picture of Craig sitting with Annabelle at the Diner on Babble and no texts on my phone. All I ever wanted was to be adored by boys and now they’re all done with me. I’m in the exact same position I was in August. Even Roy is quiet. On top of it all, there was news about Harlow plastered all over Babble. She’s alive, awake, and broken. Was it safe for me to visit? Would she still consider me a friend? How had this even become a question I had to worry about? I wanted to think, of course she’d think of me as a friend. We’re best friends! But, the truth lurks. There were skeletons in the closet. We weren’t what we pretended to be and I don’t know where to go from here.
I called Harlow and told myself that if she answered, I’d push back the anger and be grateful. If she’d talk to me, everything would be okay. But, of course her phone went to voicemail after three rings. I have nothing. Nobody to love and no friends to help.
I ached for clarity and then a name came to me. Morgan.
Marching into Morgan’s home for the second time in weeks, I demanded answers, because it’s just occurred to me that she’s been hoarding them all along.
“Why, Morgan? Why?” I asked. Why wouldn’t Harlow take my calls? Why did Morgan stand by Taryn in tormenting her?
Morgan doesn’t falter. She knew exactly what I was asking and answers accordingly, plain and simply, “Why? I’m a horrible person, Eleanor. What do you want me to say? I was jealous of her.”
Her answer pisses me off though. It’s not true. I know it isn’t. “No!” I screamed, “Say you loved her. Say you weren’t as evil as you seem. Say you didn’t write all that stuff about her on Babble.”
“I can’t.” Something about her voice drives me crazy. It’s flat, completely soulless. It reminded me of Jake claiming that Morgan had dead eyes. Has she always been this way? There were so many memories, happy times. Where did that girl go? Is there anything left of my friend?
I pleaded for more, “Why, Morgan?! Why do you hate us?! Why do you lie so easily?”
Finally, I trigger something, “Me? What about you?! You act like you’re dating Craig, but you’re seeing someone else! I’m not the only liar! I’m not!”
She’s trying to trip me up but I won’t let her. She’s smart, but I’m getting smarter. Every day. I stand taller and recite the words of our pact, “Us against the world. YOU made up that pact, Morgan. You fed us the bullshit of being sisters for life and we lapped it all up because we trusted you. Sisters?! Ha! What a crock of shit.”
My hand was on the doorknob, but I couldn’t turn it to leave. “And if you really cared about me cheating on Craig, why wouldn’t you say anything? That guy dumped me, you know. And guess what? You never even cared to ask. Or notice I was upset about it. I dealt with it alone, because my friends are horrible. And I told Craig. I admitted the whole thing and he went on a date with Annabelle last night because of it—which I assume you already knew since you live your whole life through Babble. But the thing about Craig is, he’s not the piece of shit bozo dumb jock you think he is, Morgan! He’s real. Unlike you and me. Why is it so easy for you to not care about me? There were days I could’ve really used you!”
Tears are coming fast and hot, burning as t
hey race down my cheeks. I’m crying as I leave, but Morgan can’t tell. I’m out of sight completely when my phone buzzed in my hand and I looked down to read the text on my screen, Because I’m despicable, Eleanor. And it’s not something new. I’m so sorry. For everything.
The words might be the first real thing Morgan’s ever texted me. For a moment, I’m afraid. Afraid I still care for Morgan. Afraid I’m still worried for her. Even if I’m seething with anger, a glimmer of something is there. I hope.
2/20
Craig texted me that Harlow’s out of the hospital and it’s not lost on me that him knowing Harlow’s whereabouts before me is weird and wrong. I thanked him and couldn’t stop myself from asking, “How was your date? With Annabelle. I, uh, saw the picture.”
“Do you know who took that?” He asked. “Anyway, it was nice. It’s always nice to go out with someone who likes you. You know the feeling.”
My voice shook, “I’m sure she had the best time.”
Craig cut into my talking. “Hey, listen. I gotta go. Just wanted to tell you about Harlow, but can’t really do the small talk thing. See ya later.”
Tears brimmed my eyes as I hung up and texted Morgan and Taryn, She’s out guys. Feel free to go to her house and apologize. Or is that not in your How to be Heartless handbook? Do you even know how to say I’M SORRY?
Then to Morgan, I seethe, I’m going to tell my parents about the pills, Morgan. You need help. I mean it.
She finally responded. No more pills. Getting help. I’m trying, Eleanor. It’s really hard, but I am.
I don’t know whether I believe her, but type, You better be. I can’t waste my time giving a shit about you sociopaths anymore. God, I’m so freaking livid over you two.
I’ve sent Harlow flowers and another card. I called the hospital and her cell phone endlessly. I’ve even begun driving by her house anytime I leave, hoping to catch her outside. Suddenly, without boys, she’s my new stalking obsession. I’ve even sat outside her home and watched for signs of life, but they never come. I desperately miss my friend. But, she doesn’t know that because she’s guarded now. Her parents are doing what we should have done long ago. Protected her from us.
