Starting Fires

by Makenzie Smith

  The familiar neon lights of the beer signs, the click and clack of pool, the smoky aroma, the loud laughter, it all hit me and I realized this place would never be the same without him. I wouldn’t be the same.

  Burns had become a staple in my life. It was where I went to have fun. It was where I went to steal moments with Lucas. It was where I went to forget the worries of the week. If someone else owned it, would I still want to go? Probably not. It would feel wrong.

  Lucas wasn’t behind the bar, but he was sitting there, a large group of people around him. They were slapping him on the back or giving him hugs, sad to see him go. Around the room, I spotted my friends. Ian and Lacey were cuddled up at a table, whispering sweetly to one another. Priscilla and Charles were shooting pool, him standing behind her to help line up a shot. Nicole was in a corner, hanging all over some guy that I’d never before seen. Paul was even there. When I’d told him about it, I didn’t think he’d come, but he was sitting at table with a pretty blonde. It was obvious from their body language that they were together. If Wally was around, I didn’t see him.

  Everyone I knew was paired up and I didn’t know which ones would welcome a third wheel. As I pondered it, I saw Mia sitting at a table with a few friends, her eyes never leaving Paul for long. The sadness in them was obvious, and I felt bad for her. Over her shoulder, standing with a group of his friends was Fontenot. He kept looking in her direction, but pretending not to. Despite the longing on his face, I didn’t feel bad for him.

  “Hey girl,” Wally said from behind me, grabbing my shoulders. “I knew you’d make it. Now let’s go congratulate our friend on starting his new life.” Before I had time to respond or protest, he was pushing me across the room. I tried to dig my feet into the floor, but he was stronger. With a final shove, I was in front of Lucas.

  Awkwardly, I stood at his side as he talked with someone. Sensing a new person next to him, he turned his head, doing a double take. “Hey,” he said rising from the bar.

  “Hey.”

  We didn’t speak further and I looked to the floor. “You excited man?” Wally said from my side. “Before you know it, you’ll be gone.”

  “Um, yeah,” he said. “It’s pretty cool.” His hands went into his pockets and my stomach knotted. His face looked so upbeat about the whole thing, as if leaving didn’t bother him at all. I was a mess inside.

  Don’t go. Stay.

  “What do you think, Marlowe?” Wally asked. “Florida? It’s quite a drive. Bet he won’t be able to get back much.”

  Lucas ducked his head, cutting his eyes up to me. “I think…” I paused, carefully considering my answer while resisting the urge to punch Wally. “I think that you seem pretty happy with the decision. So I hope that it works out for you.” Not wanting to subject myself to more of Wally’s japes, I decided to leave. “Excuse me,” I said, taking a few steps and then turning back. “I really do hope it works out for you,” I told Lucas, in case he thought I was trying to be snotty. When he nodded, I joined Lacey and Ian.

  Their show started, and while the crowd gathered around them, I went to the bar and turned my stool towards the stage. Their small group of fans cheered and screamed as they started playing. Lucas looked magnificent as he gripped the microphone stand and belted out the words to When You Were Young by The Killers. It was difficult not to acknowledge the tingles that spread throughout my body. Gone were his flirtatious glances, and sly smirks to the girls in the crowd. His eyes were mostly closed, only opening to scan the audience every so often. I had the egotistical thought that perhaps he was looking for me.

  As their show went on it, was hard not to smile as Charles lost himself on his drums, or when Ian and Wally jerked their instruments through their solos. When I’d first moved here, the only person I knew was Bear, now I’d be hard pressed to feel alone in this bar. Everywhere I looked was a face I recognized. I cared about these people, and I cared about the man behind the microphone most of all.

  He’d come into my life by chance, turned my world upside down, and made me question everything. When we started our little romance, I was so certain that I’d be able to keep him at arm’s length, that I’d be strong enough to walk away from him. I’d been wrong. Little by little, he’d whittled the walls around my heart until it was utterly exposed for him. Had I affected him this way, too? Did seeing me make his palms sweat and his throat tighten? It was hard to tell.

  On their last song, I leaned my elbow on the bar, resting my jaw along my palm. He’d been too much for me. I hadn’t prepared myself for what it would mean to love or need him, because I hadn’t thought it possible. I’d thought that I’d be too jaded for that, too bitter to feel those things for at least a few years. But he’d made it so easy. And then he’d made it hard.

  His eyes finally found mine, and even with his recent cool demeanor, he couldn’t hide the look of relief on his face. I smiled, giving him a shy wave. His lips turned up only a tiny bit, before he moved on to other people in the crowd.

  With their song almost finished, I got off the barstool and walked to his office. It felt wrong of me to do this. I didn’t belong back here anymore. Standing in front of his desk, I took a blank piece of paper from his printer and wrote Make the most of Florida. You deserve happiness and love. Maybe you’ll find it there. With all my heart - Marzy.

  I meant every word, and folded the paper, writing his name on the outside. I didn’t bother walking back through the bar and approached the back exit, pausing only to hear him say through the speakers, “Thank you for coming to see us week after week. It’s been a great few years!”

  The crowd cheered and I left.

  I was sitting in front of a burly man in his late 50s. He had glasses and pristine gray hair, remarkable to behold. I don’t think I’d ever seen anything more potently gray. If my instincts were correct, they were going to hire me, but I couldn’t decide if I even wanted the job. It was a job. I should take it. But it was a boring one. I’d be sitting in front of desk filing paperwork and doing the shitty things that no one else wanted to.

  Maybe I should move too—put this city behind me and start over again somewhere. Somewhere warm, but not too warm. Somewhere with palm trees, sand, and beautiful beaches. Somewhere like Florida.

  I pushed that thought aside, hating that I was daydreaming about chasing after him. He was going because he thought it was best for him. I should let him.

  The man dropped my resume and gave me a smile. “I think you’d be a wonderful asset to the team,” he said. “How soon can you start?”

  I could start right away, but did I want to? Knowing that Lucas was planning on living his dream made me feel like I should, too. And this wasn’t my dream. “Do you mind if I think about it?” I said, knowing that was going to seal my fate with this company. Unless I called them back today, I wouldn’t be hired.

  His lips pulled into a tight smile. “Take all the time you need,” he said.

  I thanked him for his time and gave his hand a shake. As I drove home, I thought about my predicament. My father was still footing the bill for me, but I couldn’t let him continue. Student loans were going to be due soon, too.

  I should have just taken the job. Everything else in my life was miserable, why not let my job suck, too?

  No. What I really wanted was my old job back, but Paul told me that my position had been filled. A few days ago, I went to talk with Mr. Yudeski and he seemed sympathetic to my situation, but there wasn’t anything he could do for me. He was nice enough to assure me that if a position became available that my resume would be at the top of the pile. That was something, I guess.

  Pulling into my driveway, I stared at his empty house across the street. His car was hardly there now, and a big For Sale sign was stuck in the front yard. As I took my keys out of the ignition, I held them in my hand. The spare to his house was still there. I should return it, and knew that I couldn’t do it face to face.

  Damaging my fingernails, I maneuvered it from the key rin
g and walked to his house with the intention of putting it back where it was before, but the rock was gone, as was his welcome mat. I searched his tiny garden and didn’t see a place to hide it. The doorframe was no good. Every time I put it up there, the narrow strip of wood couldn’t hold it and it slid off.

  Hoping, praying, that he wouldn’t return while I did this, I turned the lock and stepped inside. I walked to his kitchen and placed it on the counter. He would know I was here. I should have given it to Charles instead, and let him return it. But I’d already invaded his space, the least I could do was let him know.

  I was about to leave but stopped to stare down the hallway. His bedroom door was cracked. Some sick, twisted feeling pulled me there. No good would come from it. It would only cause me pain, but I went anyway. Slowly, I stepped in and surveyed the room. His clothes were still strewn everywhere. His bed was messy, the covers bunched where he’d gotten out of it. All of his beautiful trees were still on the walls, mine included.

  Like a complete weirdo, I sat on his bed, hoping to connect with him one last time. Flashes of all our moments in this room came rushing back. This is where we’d been together the first time, and then many times after that. Propped up against his headboard was the first time he told me how perfect my body was, effectively ending my feelings of self-doubt. Since we’d met, I’d actually gained a little weight, but neither of us had seemed to care. We’d laughed in this room, played in this room, told each other secrets in this room. And soon it would be someone else’s. A stranger would be living here.

  The edge of my picture frame caught my eye, and I reached for it. As I looked at it, I let out a gasp. Gone was the picture of the tree I’d taken. Instead, there was the picture of me, smiling over my shoulder, my heart and name, his name for me, in the corner. Marzy. No one would ever call me that again. Tears came to my eyes, and I felt my face twist in pain. Before he found me bawling on his bed, I put the picture back and left.

  On the way out, I locked his door. Holding everything in, I walked back to my house and straight to my room, locking that door too.

  It was the next day, and I hadn’t left my room. For hours, I’d been trying to figure out a way to fix this. It was harder than I realized to put aside my pride and stubbornness, but I knew time was running out. If I didn’t say something soon, he would be out of my reach.

  My clock said 2:37 p.m. and I realized that I hadn’t even eaten, but I wasn’t hungry. Instead of going to find food, I thought about my picture on his nightstand. It was still there for a reason. I’d licked my wounds long enough. Maybe it was time to go to him. But what would I say? Don’t leave. He seemed so excited about Florida. What if I was too late to convince him that we still had a chance?

  Getting nowhere with my thoughts, I welcomed the knock on my door. Wally opened it without waiting for me to invite him in, per usual. “Got something for you,” he said, handing me a piece of paper. It was a new lease. “It’s due tomorrow. We forgot about it, but we have to get it to them today. Ours expires at midnight.”

  “I’ve lived here an entire year?” I asked, taking his pen and scrawling my name on the line. “Will it matter that my dad signed the last one?”

  “Naw. This guy’s pretty cool. He knows you’re the one living with us anyway.”

  I handed it back to him. A year ago, I’d seen Lucas standing in his driveway, his arms raised to the garage door. His playful smirk had solidified my attraction to him, everything that followed had slowly made me his.

  “Lucas got an offer on his house,” Wally said. “He’s thinking about taking it. Unless of course there was a reason for him to stay.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just thought you might want to know,” he started for the door and then backtracked. “Before I forget, I have this for you, too.”

  He handed me a picture. It was hard to tell exactly when it had been taken, but obviously, Wally had been spying on us from the stairs. Lucas was propped against my kitchen table and I was standing in front of him. Our arms were wrapped tightly around one another and his head was thrown back in laughter. I was smiling up at him. We both looked so happy.

  “When did you take this?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Some time earlier in the year. I was coming down the stairs and you looked so sweet. I took it with my phone.”

  “Well… thank you,” I said.

  There was a pause before he said. “He’s over there right now, you know.”

  “His car isn’t home.”

  “It’s in the garage. I just talked to him. I promise. He’s there.” Should I take this moment? Was it the last one I’d get? “Go, Marlowe,” he said. “Stop overthinking everything and just go.”

  I took a second to look at the picture again, soaking in the happiness we’d felt. Wally walked off as I studied it. Stop over thinking everything and just go, he’d said.

  Taking a breath, I tossed it aside and made my way down the stairs. With determination, I walked across the street and to his door. My hand was raised, ready to knock, but I was hesitating, still unsure of what to say.

  In my indecision, I heard his garage door go up. A moment later, his car engine started. I turned and watched it slowly back out of the drive. Lucas was looking over his shoulder, not seeing me.

  His car was halfway in the road when I took a step towards it. My movement brought his eyes to me. After a few seconds, he put it in drive and pulled back in. He turned off the car and opened his door. Still watching me, he propped against the Buick. Our silence was deafening as I tried to find the words I needed.

  “Don’t go,” finally came out of my mouth.

  He looked at the ground, shuffling his feet before looking back to me. “Why?” he asked.

  Why? There were a million reasons why, but right now, they were all stuck in my throat. “Lucas, I…” I love you. I’m yours and I can’t let you leave.

  My eyes watered and tears started flowing down my cheeks. I couldn’t let him go, but I was too weak to open myself up to him. This is what I was, a broken, neurotic, fumbling mess. For the barest of moments, and the longest of lifetimes, he made me feel like so much more. Crying, clutching my fist on his sidewalk, I realized how much I truly needed him. He made me better. He made me want to be better.

  I raised my eyes to his, letting him see me at my most exposed. His eyes were red, his face wound tight, holding on to his own emotions. “Please, Lucas,” I said. He watched me, but didn’t move and didn’t say anything.

  He wasn’t going to say anything. Florida. He wanted Florida. I was too late. A heartbreaking, strangled sob came out of my mouth and I walked by him to return home, hiding my face from him.

  When I reached his side, his hand shot out and grabbed my arm, stopping me. I couldn’t look at him and tried to pull away, but then he said, “I want you, Marzy. All of you. Every part.” I took in a hopeful breath, and raised my eyes to his. “I’ve wanted you from the very beginning,” he continued. “But I was too stupid to ever say anything. You think I’m moving to Florida to find what I love? Well, that’s fucking impossible, because what I love is right here. You,” he said. “I. Love. You. Marlowe.” With a furrowed brow, he rose from his car and let me go. I took a step back as fresh tears ran down my cheeks. Lucas loved me.

  Lucas. Loved. Me.

  “You came into my life and started a fire that burned so hot and fast, I was ash, crumbling before I even knew what was happening. But you didn’t even notice! I’ve tried fighting it. I’ve tried letting it go, but I can’t. So I’m moving because I can’t think of what else to do. I can’t keep living with this ache. This pain of knowing that the woman I’m in love with is sleeping across the street and not in my arms!”

  His hands jerked with emotion, and he took a deep breath, running them down his face. “If you would have just said the word,” he continued more calmly, “that would have been it. I would have given you everything. I know now that I should have just told you. I shoul
dn’t have waited on you. I should have sucked it up and put it out there, and then none of this mess would have happened. You are it for me,” he said, his voice choking. “Do you understand? It. I fucking worship you. I know that I messed up and I will regret it for the rest of my life, because there is nothing, absolutely nothing, I want more than you.”

  He stopped talking and stared at me, his breaths coming out in quick bursts. I wasn’t breathing at all. “Please, say something, Marzy,” he said.

  His eyes were glassy, unshed tears threatening to fall. My wall crumbled, falling around my heart with a loud reverberating thud.

  The dust cleared and with everything I had in me, I said, “I love you, too. I love you so much.” His face contorted as if in pain and he grabbed me around the waist, putting his forehead to mine. My hands went to his shirt clutching as I continued. “I’ve known for so long but didn’t want to tell you, because I was so scared. But I don’t want you leave. I don’t want you to go.” Fully crying, I took a breath. “Don’t leave me,” I begged. “Stay. I forgive you. I forgive everything. I want all of you too, Lucas. I’m better with you.”

  Whatever else I was going to say was forgotten as he kissed me hard, pushing his lips to mine with force. I could feel the agony in his mouth, and then the joy as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with just as much intensity. His hands came to my back and he pulled me as close to his body as he could. My fingers tangled in his messy hair, and I opened my mouth. Immediately, he pulled my legs up around his waist and walked towards his garage. Blindly, he moved until he reached the door. As we came into the house, I pulled back and cradled his face. “So you aren’t leaving?” I asked.

  “Never,” he said.