Dark Hearts

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “W.T.F.?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. You’ve said that like three times. I’m just distracted.”

  “Mhmm,” I hum, watching her carefully as she straightens the pile of unused Polaroids. Something tells me her distraction is more than her project, and I worry that I might not like what is.

  ***

  Nova

  I gather up the Polaroids I didn’t use and carry them to my room, putting them in my drawer where I keep my letters.

  My letters.

  My heart pangs.

  I haven’t written to Owen in over a month. There were times I used to write to him every day.

  I pull out my notebook and sit on my bed, figuring it’s time I wrote him another letter.

  Dear Owen,

  I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in so long. I promise you, I still think of you every day. If you could only know how much you’re on my mind. Especially in the last month. I think that’s why I haven’t written to you in so long. I’ve been picturing your face in my mind and it hurts, so I’ve avoided you.

  Avoidance isn’t always good, though.

  In fact, it’s never good, because then something builds up inside you until it bubbles over.

  I’m afraid the secret I keep about you is going to ruin everything. It’s my own fault for not being honest about you.

  I don’t know how to speak the truth anymore though. I’ve buried this secret for so long that sometimes it feels like it was all a dream.

  Know this truth, though.

  I love you. I always will. Always.

  Nova.

  I rip out the piece of paper and fold it up, placing it with the others and now the Polaroids. Tears cling to my lashes.

  Owen.

  Owen is such a huge part of my life, one I never acknowledge out loud, and last month, it brought back so many memories, some good, but most of them not.

  I wipe at the tears that spill over and take a deep breath, burying the feelings the same way I’ve buried my memories for years.

  If you bury something deep enough, it’ll eventually disappear, right?

  ***

  “I forgot how much I loved this place,” Thea says, taking a drink of her water.

  Xander sits beside her, his hand on the back of her chair. Beside him is Cade, and then Rae, and finally, me. Jace isn’t with us since he’s performing next.

  “The food’s great for a place called W.T.F..” Cade dips a cheese fry in ranch.

  I pick at my own meal, a cheeseburger and fries, and wait anxiously for Jace to take the stage. He said he was performing a new song tonight. One he wrote about us.

  “It’s nice to hang out like this,” Rae chimes in, stealing one of his fries. He smiles at her and leans over to kiss her nose. “We don’t see you and Jace enough.”

  I snort. “You see me practically every day.”

  She glares at me. “At school. That doesn’t count.”

  “Okay, you got me there,” I concede.

  Between work, school, and spending every waking minute I can with Jace it’s been hard to make time for our friends. While I’m in this blissful honeymoon stage with Jace it’s hard to want to do anything else.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Joel says, shrugging off his scarf and coat. A pretty blond stands at his side. “This is Sarah.”

  “Hi, Sarah.” I wave.

  “Hi,” everyone else chimes in.

  “Hey.” She waves back, her cheeks either flushed from nerves or cold.

  Joel takes the empty seat beside me, leaving the last one for Sarah.

  “Has he gone on yet?” Joel asks.

  I shake my head. “No, not yet.”

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but I love the brown hair.” Joel flicks a piece of my hair.

  Sarah watches the exchange, clearly confused.

  “I used to dye my hair crazy colors,” I explain. “Finally went back to my natural.”

  “And shocked the socks off all of us,” Thea pipes in.

  When she and Rae picked me up for dress shopping they both gaped at me like a fish and then proceeded to ask me a million different questions. Well, Thea asked the questions, Rae just stared.

  “Oh, that’s cool,” Sarah says, clearly not that interested. Joel leans down and whispers something in her ear and she blushes.

  The person performing finishes and Jace takes their place.

  He sits on the stool, the spotlight shining right on him.

  He’s dressed simply in his usual jeans and a t-shirt but the way he holds himself he could be dressed in the most expensive suit known to man.

  He clears his throat and adjusts the microphone.

  “This is a song I wrote. I call it “Dark Hearts”.”

  He strums his guitar and begins to sing.

  “They say they don't know us. They say they've never met someone quite like us. They say that we're crazy. They say that we're running, from our demons, from our demons.” His eyes close as he sings, and you can tell that the whole room has disappeared for him. That all that exists is him, the music, and the words. “And I remember looking in her eyes, holding back tears from that night. I find it hard to find the sun in the rain. I'm finding it hard to find myself when all I do is change.” His eyes open then and find me in the bar. “They said they don't know us. But they don't understand. No one understands. But I've figured it out. We've got dark hearts, dark hearts, and our demons won't let us go. Just tell me how I get out of this suffering. Just tell me how I forget this pain and be happy. And the pain is pulling me under, maybe I should give them names. Tell me, can my dark heart ever go away?”

  The song ends and I jump to my feet clapping.

  He’s amazing. More amazing than he ever gives himself credit for.

  Several other people join me and Jace smiles, a little grin that tilts his lips on one corner. He bows his head slightly and exits the stage.

  He comes over to our table and I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “I love you,” I whisper in his ear. “You’re amazing.”

  “That was great, Jace,” Joel says.

  “Thanks.” Jace smiles but he’s looking at me. “I love you too,” he murmurs in reply to what I said. He kisses me and wrap an arm around my waist. He sits down in my seat and pulls me down onto his lap. His guitar rests against the table.

  “The people love you!” Eli breezes over to our table.

  I laugh when I take in his ensemble. He’s dressed in a pair of black slacks, with a black button down shirt, and a purple sequined vest with a matching purple top hat.

  “I think I need to give you a whole show on Saturday nights,” Eli continues. “Oh, and thanks for hanging the balls.” He points at the ceiling where hundreds of ornaments dangle.

  Jace mock-salutes him. “That’s me—Jace the Ball Handler.”

  I laugh and take a bite of a fry as Eli moves to another table to ask them if they’re enjoying their evening.

  “When are you playing again?” Thea asks, leaning into Xander as he glides his hand up her neck.

  Jace shrugs. “Maybe next week. Depends on what I feel like doing.”

  “Well, if you do, you need to invite us. This was fun.” She steals a cheese fry from Cade’s plate.

  “Hey,” Cade scolds. “That’s mine.”

  Thea bites into the fry with a smirk. “Mine now.”

  Xander shakes his head.

  “How long have you been writing songs?” Rae asks Jace.

  Jace shrugs, rubbing his fingers up my thigh. “Since high school. It became a sort of escape.”

  She nods. “I see. You’re really good. I mean, I’ve seen you play before but I don’t think I ever realized you write songs too.”

  “I might’ve played a cover when you saw me,” Jace explains. “Sometimes I do if I’m not feeling a recent song I’ve written and I’ve gotten sick of playing old ones.”

  “Maybe.” Rae shrugs. “It was last year.”

  “Are you
going to eat that?” he asks me, pointing to my burger.

  I shake my head. “No, I’m done.”

  He picks up my burger and finishes it in three bites—which is quite a feat considering how much was left.

  “How do you feel about your final?” Joel asks.

  “Pretty good.”

  “Pretty good?” Jace repeats. “Your project was fucking amazing.”

  “What’d you do?” Rae asks. I blush, leaning into Jace.

  “Took pictures of me naked,” Jace tells her.

  “Oh, ew. Didn’t need to do that.” She covers her eyes like I’ve stuck one of the photos in front of her.

  I smack Jace’s shoulder. “You can’t see anything like that in the photos. It’s mostly close-ups or shadows. Kinda abstract in a way.” I shrug. It’s hard to explain without showing them and I didn’t show them in class because it feels private. It was hard enough to hand it over to my teacher. “What’d you guys do?” I ask them, hoping to steer the conversation away from me, Jace, and our pictures.

  Rae launches into an explanation of her project and then Joel explains his.

  While they speak, Jace polishes off the last of the fries on my plate.

  We stay for a good two hours chatting before we all decide to part ways. It’s after eleven, and I’m exhausted from many late nights working on my project and falling into bed with Jace.

  Jace and I wave goodbye to our friends and start to walk back to the apartment.

  “Oh, my God,” I breathe. “Look!” I point to the sky. “It’s snowing!”

  Jace laughs as I twirl around trying to catch a snowflake with my tongue.

  I finally catch one, and dizzy, I bump into him. He wraps a hand around my arm to steady me.

  “Careful,” he warns. “You might fall.”

  He’s right. The ground is quickly growing slick with snow. I twine our gloved hands together and hold onto him as we finish the walk back to the apartment. By the time we get there there’s nearly an inch of snow already on the ground, with more falling by the second. We’ve already had several snows the last few weeks, but nothing major. This looks promising, and it’s just in time for Christmas.

  Jace and I burst into the warmth of the apartment lobby and laugh as we pull our gloves off, heading for the elevator.

  We hold hands as we ride up in the elevator. Sometimes it boggles my mind, how easily we touch now, when in the beginning even holding hands in public felt like such a milestone.

  I yawn as we step out of the elevator and Jace pulls the keys from his jeans pocket. He unlocks the door and waits for me to step inside first.

  The apartment looks cozy and ready for Christmas.

  A Christmas tree sits in the corner by the TV and there are little lights strung around the stainless-steel island. I asked him if we could decorate for Christmas and I was shocked when he agreed. He seemed happy to help and I even caught him sneaking some presents under the tree.

  I shrug out of my coat, scarf, and gloves as he locks the door.

  I kick off my boots and scurry into my room to change. When I come out, Jace sits on the island in a pair of low hanging sweatpants and his beanie.

  I open the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water, feeling his eyes on my ass the whole time.

  “What’d you do with the extra Polaroids?” he asks.

  I turn around and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “They’re in the drawer of my desk. Why?”

  He grins. “I have an idea.”

  He hops off the counter and hurries into my room.

  I drink another sip of water and put the bottle back in the refrigerator. I yawn, eyeing his bed desperately. I need sleep. I’ve gotten too little the last few weeks.

  “What’s taking so long?” I call with a laugh, and step into the doorway of my room, or what used to be my room since I sleep in Jace’s bed now. “Jace?” I say, puzzled.

  He turns around and my blood runs cold. Clutched in his hand is a piece of paper. One of my letters.

  My eyes close. “Jace, it’s not what you think.” I bite my tongue at my pathetic excuse. It sounds silly, but it’s true.

  “Not what I think?” he says through clenched teeth. “It’s fucking obvious, Nova!” he yells, spit flying. I wince.

  “It’s really not.” I press my lips together, fighting tears.

  He storms forward, the piece of paper shaking in his fist.

  “I still think of you every day. If you could only know how much you’re on my mind. Especially in the last month.” He throws my words back at me. “It’s exactly what I think it is. I asked you if you were still in love with him and you said no. You said no, Nova.” He clenches his teeth, a muscle in his jaw clenching. He looks close to tears. He pushes past me and out into the kitchen.

  “Jace,” I cry, following after him. “Let me explain. That letter isn’t what you think it is.”

  “It’s not a love letter to your ex? You’re not pining for him?”

  “No!” I cry. “I’m over him, I promise you.”

  He flips the page to another letter gathered in his hand. “It’s been too long since I wrote to you and for that I’m sorry. I promise it’s not because I forgot about you—nothing could ever make that a true statement because you’re always on my mind. I think about you every day. Mostly when I’m about to fall asleep. I think about the color of your eyes and the softness of your hair beneath my fingers. It breaks my heart that you can’t think of me in the same way. I’m a ghost to you. I don’t exist. That’s what hurts the most.”

  “Shut up!” I scream at him. “Stop it! This isn’t fair!”

  “You know what isn’t fair?” he seethes. “Me, finally giving someone my heart and having it ripped apart in front of me. I love you, Nova. I. Love. You. I’ve never loved anyone before and this whole time it was a lie because you’re still in love with your ex.” He paces back and forth in the kitchen like it pains him to stand still.

  I shake my head, my face wet with tears. “He’s not my ex,” my voice cracks.

  Jace snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Nova.”

  “He’s my son.”

  Jace stands still. He’s frozen. Lips parted. “What? What did you say?”

  I wipe my tears away, my chin quivering. “He’s my son.”

  Jace looks up at the ceiling, like it holds all the answers in the world. “I don’t believe you,” he finally says.

  “It’s the truth,” I croak. “He’s my son,” I say again, because it feels so good to finally say the words out loud.

  Jace looks at me like he’s never seen me before, like he doesn’t know me, which hurts like nothing else could because he knows me better than anyone.

  I turn and head back to my room, gathering the rest of my letters.

  “Take them,” I say, shoving them at him. “Read them. You’ll see.”

  He takes them reluctantly. “I need to go,” he mumbles.

  I fight more tears. “Please, don’t go,” I beg.

  He looks at me, his heart breaking and mine too. “I have to. I can’t look at you right now.” I wince. I deserve that. I deserve worse, but it still hurts.

  He grabs his coat and heads for the door. He looks back at me, and I feel like he wants to say something but he shakes his head and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him, which is a hundred times worse than if he slammed it, because it means he’s in control.

  I drop to the floor and cradle my knees to my chest. I let myself cry for Jace, for Owen, and most importantly, I cry for me.

  Nova

  Tick tock.

  Hours pass, and I sit stationary on the couch, watching the door.

  Tick tock.

  Every minute, every second, seems to stretch infinitely as I wait.

  Tick tock.

  I keep hoping he’s going to come back. That he’s going to open the door and fall at my feet and tell me he’s sorry, that he understands why I had to keep this a secret. But I also know Jace, and he
’s incredibly stubborn, so I know the chance of that fantasy becoming reality is slim to none.

  It’s after four in the morning when I finally drag my exhausted body to bed.

  I feel numb.

  I didn’t want Jace to find out about Owen like this. I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t. How do you possibly find the words to tell the man you love that you got pregnant at fifteen? It’s not exactly an easy conversation, especially when you add in all my family drama.

  It turns out getting knocked up when you’re fifteen and a minister’s daughter is a bad idea. Throw in the baby daddy’s father being the town mayor and it’s a recipe for drama.

  I wrap my arms around my pillow, hugging it like it’s Jace.

  I miss him and he’s only been gone hours.

  I know he had every right to leave, I don’t blame him, but it still hurts. I would’ve loved to have the chance to explain myself. I hope he reads my letters to Owen and understands—that he sees the truth.

  But for all I know he might stomp all over them or light them on fire.

  Realistically, I know he’d never do that. Jace is a lot of things but he’s not vindictive, at least not to the people he loves.

  Eventually, I drift off to sleep. It’s fitful and full of nightmares and I wake more exhausted than I was when I fell asleep.

  I get up and Jace still hasn’t returned.

  I wonder where he went.

  The bar maybe? It would’ve still been open and I’m sure Eli would’ve let him crash at his place.

  Or maybe he went to Cade’s? No, because if he had Thea or Rae would’ve surely texted or called.

  I know he wouldn’t have gone to his dad’s so I have no idea where else he could’ve ended up.

  I brush my teeth and hair and clean my face. It makes me feel slightly better but dark circles still cloud the skin beneath my eyes. I gather my hair up in a messy bun and change into a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt that says Bed Hair Don’t Care. Something tells me I’m going to spend the day moping and that calls for comfy clothes.

  I’m not hungry, but I want something to do so I make breakfast.

  I toast some bread and start a pan with scrambled eggs.

  I’m shoveling the eggs out onto a plate when the door opens.