“So what do you think is the deal with her? Is she really just that nuts?”
“I don’t know. She seemed to me as though she was living in her own little reality. She has no idea what Tenley is really like at all. I know more about her from the last two days than I think she knows from the last sixteen years. She really just sees her as a burden, a big red mark on her perfect little life. She doesn’t see what she is doing to her at all, nor does she care. It’s just sad really.”
“I thought a lot last night about just taking Tenley and running away with her.” I muttered. “I just can’t stand the thought of her being in that house and not being able to see or hear what is happening. I am oddly comforted to know that she is outside mowing the lawn right now, even though I know she is probably freezing and exhausted. How messed up is that?”
“Before your mom died, I tried everything I could think of to help her, but it wasn’t enough. At some point I think I was just resigned to the fact that at least if she was feeling pain, she was feeling something, and that was better than nothing. But after a while, she did stop feeling even pain. She was like a doll just walking around without feelings, without thoughts; she was as lifeless as a living person could be. I still think I should have done something else, something more, but I don’t know what that would have been. I guess what I am trying to say is that even though you love her, and she says she loves you, I don’t know how far-gone she is. And I think there is a point in sadness like that, where they can’t come back anymore. Running away with her isn’t going to help, because everything she is going through is a part of her. It doesn’t matter if you take her to the other side of the country, the pain will travel with her, and I don’t know if you really know what that means,” he says sadly.
“Dammit, Dad, do you not realize that I was there, too? I watched mom go through all the same stuff you did! Not only that, but I watched you falling apart right along with her. There was nothing either of us could do for Mom, but we can help Tenley. I am not willing to just stand by and watch her crumble like Mom did. I know we both did everything we could to help Mom, but it wasn’t enough, and honestly, I don’t think I can live through watching another person I love fall apart like that. I just can’t,” I fumed.
“This is not something that you should have to deal with. You are not responsible for her. Not to mention that you have only known her for two days. Chase, there is a lot you can do for her without running away with her. She is still alive; she is still in there when you look in her eyes. If you can show her that you love her and that she can trust you, she just might be okay. You can give her the kind of happiness that she has never had before, and that might enough. I loved your mom, hell, I still love her, but she never told me anything about why she was so sad. You know what it is that is causing Tenley all of this pain. All you have to do is get her through the pain, and when you both come out on the other side, then you will know what true love really is.”
“Just might be okay isn’t enough. I need to know that she is going to be okay, and that will never be the case while she’s living with her mother.”
I walk away, leaving him with his own thoughts.
A part of me knows that he is right, but the urge to just take her and go is still there haunting me. I move into the living room, flip the TV on and mindlessly flip through the channels until I fall asleep and dream about us sitting in chairs on a beach somewhere.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tenley
Again I spent my night dreaming about Chase. I was a little nervous to go to school and have a whole day of us being in the same building. He was in several of my classes, so I knew I’d get to see him at least a few times. I hoped that he would ask me to have lunch with him.
As I was waiting for the bus on the corner, I saw him pulling out of his driveway. Come to think of it, I had seen him driving to school several times. I wonder why he was taking the bus that day he followed me to the park? As soon as he got to the corner, he pulled over.
“Is your mom home?” He asked cautiously, his eyes darting between me and the house.
“No, she leaves for work before I even get up for school. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I was going to offer you a ride to school if you want one. I just didn’t want you to get in trouble.” He smiles.
“Nope. All good for now. I would love a ride, thanks.”
“I usually stop at Starbucks on the way to school. Can I buy you something?”
“I’ve never been to Starbucks before, but I’d like to try it. Can you help me figure out what to order, though? Doesn’t everything there have like fifteen words in the description?”
“Something like that,” he laughs. “I know just the thing.”
The speaker in the drive-through comes to life with a girl who sounds entirely too happy to be awake at this hour. “Can I get a grande caramel macchiato and a grande salted caramel mocha, please?” Chase says while digging through his wallet. The overly chipper voice chirps out our total, and within just a few minutes we are back on our way to school.
I take a sip of my drink with trepidation because I have no idea if I will like it, and I’m pretty sure that I have burnt off my fingerprints just from holding the cup.
“HOLY CRAP!” I yell. Chase slams on the brakes and pulls over as fast as he can safely. “Tenley are you okay? What happened? Did you burn your mouth? Oh my God, I should have gotten water, do you need water?”
Now I’m laughing so hard that I can barely breathe, and he is looking at me with the most adorable confused look on his face.
“Care to explain why you just screamed?” He is laughing now, too.
“It’s just, I’ve never had Starbucks before as I said, and it’s just so good that the yell just slipped out!”
“Jesus woman, you are going to give me a heart attack and kill us both.”
“Sorry.” I giggle.
In a flash he leans over and kisses me. It only lasts a second, but that’s all it takes for my heart to start beating out of my chest again.
“Alright, young lady, I better get you to school before I decide to just run away with you,” he says as he pulls the car back onto the road.
With the words young lady, I am slammed back into reality once again, and the ride the rest of the way to school is pretty quiet.
We arrive at school and like a true gentlemen, once again, he walks around the car and opens my door for me. He grabs my backpack from the backseat and hands it to me once I am out of the car. I find it a little odd at first that he doesn’t just carry it since he is making such a visible effort to be chivalrous, but before I can wonder too much, he goes to the trunk and pulls out his art supplies. Between the art stuff, his backpack and his coffee, it is like watching a clown try to juggle.
I offered to help, but he declined. “I’m used to carrying all of this stuff on my own. I take it almost everywhere. We have a little while before school starts. Do you mind walking to the art room with me, just so I can drop this stuff off?”
“No, not at all.” I’m not trying to be short with him, but it’s so hard for me to allow myself to be happy with him. I know I don’t deserve him. Nor do I deserve to be happy. I still don’t understand why I’m here, but I do know that if I allow myself to be too comfortable with him, that everything is going to come crashing down. I have been hurt enough in my sixteen years to know that I can’t count on anyone. Even though I know this, I can’t help but feel a pull towards him. I feel like he truly would do anything for me, and we have only known each other a few days.
“Tenley?”
I look up at him and realize that I have stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. “Sorry, I just zoned out for a minute. Not a morning person.” I smile, and once again I can feel my face heating up.
“Hence the coffee.” He smiles.
Continuing down the hallway, we arrive at the art room, and he heads to the back of the room where there are some lockers. While he gets his belongings organ
ized in his locker, I notice that there are paintings, drawings, sculptures, and other art projects around, so I begin looking at each one. I have never paid attention to any kind of art other than photography, but each of these pieces spoke right to my soul. A black and white sketch of a tree losing its leaves and a small silhouette of a child in the background. The child seems so dejected , even though her face isn’t visible.
My eyes move to the right, and I am struck silent and frozen when I notice a giant watercolor painting of a girl sitting up against a wall with her nose in a book. Chase must have finished putting his schoolbooks and art equipment in his locker at the exact moment I notice the painting, because he too, is silent and frozen. After a moment, I am able to slowly put one foot in front of the other and step closer to the painting to see if it is who I think it is, and the closer I get, the more I see it.
It is me, only beautiful. I am sitting with my knees up, my favorite book on my lap, my glasses on, and my hair down but all swept over my right shoulder, and it doesn’t look like the mousy brown I know it. It looks, different. I have jean shorts on with a gray shirt, my favorite hoodie and my green scarf. It is a position I sit in several times a day, whenever I am not in class, so it is definitely me. I take another step closer and that is when I notice her eyes, well, my eyes. They are so filled with sadness. Based on the way that he has painted them, every detail, every reflection, it is obvious that this girl is hopelessly lost. There are no tears, but he doesn’t need to have them there to show that she is that sad. It is, without a doubt, the most beautifully sad painting I have ever seen. I have always felt like no one sees me, the invisible girl, but to him I am not invisible at all. I can feel him slowly walking up behind me and realize that I have tears in my eyes dangerously close to falling.
I turn to look at him. This boy that I barely know. This boy that, I can tell by looking at this painting, knows more about me than I do. This boy, that even though all logic says it doesn’t make sense, I trust wholeheartedly. As all of these feelings hit me, I throw myself into his arms and completely break down. Even though I have never let anyone see me cry before, I know he won’t judge. And he doesn’t. He stands there and holds me in his arms for what seems like hours, not rushing me, not making me feel stupid, just holding me.
It is the first time in my life that I feel safe.
When the bell rings to go to homeroom, I have calmed down enough that I am able to pull the rest of myself together to walk to class. I back up and look up at Chase, and he very gently leans over and kisses a tear from each side of my face. He kisses my lips then so tenderly as if to assure me that everything is going to be okay. He grabs my hand and walks me to class.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Chase
I hate school, and I hate Mondays, but I am looking forward to going to school today. I’ll have a whole day with Tenley in the same building, with her away from her mother. I know she is safe.
I really want to give her a ride to school, but I have no idea if her mother will let me. However, I’m pretty sure I saw her driving to work this morning when I was on my run. I’m not willing to take a chance, however, so I decide that I will just sit in my truck in the driveway until I see Tenley come out. When I do see her, I pull out and drive over to her to see if she wants a ride.
She accepts my offer of a ride and my offer for Starbucks, two reasons that make this Monday worth being awake for. That is, until she screams.
As fast as I can, I pull over so that I can see what is wrong.
Apparently, the first sip of Starbucks that she has ever had is so good that it has induced screaming. She is laughing at my concern for her, and every time she smiles or laughs, I can’t resist the urge to put my lips on hers. She is just so overwhelmingly hot when she is happy. And knowing that I have done something to bring that out only makes it better.
The kiss is quick because I know if I kiss her for real, that we will never get to school on time.
“Alright, young lady, I better get you to school before I decide to just run away with you,” I quip as I get the truck back on the road.
All of the sudden, she becomes quiet. I hope the kiss didn’t upset her. She seemed okay with it all of the other times, but something is definitely wrong now. I guess I will just let her be for the rest of the drive.
When we get to school, I get out and open her door like I always do, grab her backpack for her and then all of my art stuff and my backpack. She is still acting weird, so I cautiously ask if she minds if we go drop off my stuff in the art room so that we can hang out for a few minutes before our first class. It isn’t until we are about half-way there that I realize that the painting I did of her sitting by the wall is in there, and I don’t know if I want her to see it yet. However, there really isn’t a way to turn back now without making it obvious. Maybe she won’t notice it.
I head straight for my locker to put my stuff away in the hope that she will just follow me, but I am not so lucky. She is in the art room looking at all of the stuff that is displayed. As quickly as I can, I put my stuff away; and as I turn around, I can see that she is staring at my painting. My painting of her. My painting of her that she doesn’t know I have done.
I slowly walk up behind her, but I don’t know what to say; so I just stand there waiting for her to do something or say something. When she finally turns to look at me, she has tears in her eyes and falls into me with her head on my chest. She is openly sobbing into me and still not knowing what to do I just hold her, trying once again to convey my emotions to her through my actions.
When she pulls back, she has a new emotion in her eyes. I don’t know what it is, but something in me tells me she needs me. I kiss her again, this time with all of the emotion I can manage to put into a kiss. The bell rings. She seems to be doing better, so I take her hand and walk her to class.
The urge to take her away is getting stronger with every moment I spend with her, and I am going to need to find a way to channel this into something other than that. I wonder if her middle name is “trouble”?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tenley
I don’t know how he did it, but for the rest of that day, every time I left a class that he wasn’t in with me, he was waiting by the door by the time I got there. It took me until about sixth hour to realize that he was going to be there after every class. It was so comforting. I had always been so alone, that having someone there with me in the hall made my day that much better.
He sat with me during my lunch hour, which I learned he shared with me, and worked on drawing while I sat and did homework. I explain to him that I have to do all of my homework at school because most of the time, my mother takes my backpack as soon as I walk in the door, so I finish it all at school and then put it in my locker. On the days when she doesn’t take it away, she does what she did on Saturday, and I have to start everything over. Therefore, doing it at school is really the only chance I have of getting any kind of good grades at all.
“Do your teachers know this happens?” he asks incredulously.
“See, the thing with her is, I mean, you saw it with your dad, but she can put on the sweetest face in the world, and she is extremely charming when she needs to be. When I tell my teachers that this goes on, usually they will go and talk to the guidance counselor about it, and then he will call and talk to her. She puts on her best flirty voice and explains that I have issues with lying and that she will do her best to help in any way she can; but I am a problem child, and she just doesn’t know what to do anymore. Inevitably, he then calls me into his office and I get a lecture about lying. This has happened every single year since eighth grade. I didn’t even bother to say anything this year. I just made sure I have enough free time during the day to get done what I need to get done. If I don’t have enough time, then I get a bad grade. That’s just how it is.”
“I am so sorry that you have to go through all this. I wish there was something that I could do to help,” he says sadly.
“You would be surprised at how nice it is just to have you sit with me.”
“Where is your dad while all of this is happening?”
“I have never even met him. They were so young that I guess it was just too much, and he took off almost immediately. I have no idea even what his name is.”
“So the way she treats you, that’s why you made that comment about being dead when you grow up?”
“She hates me. She has made that clear from the start. Do you have any idea how hard it is to live with someone who not only hates you, but hates herself and blames you for that, too?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, the way I see it, the only way that I can make her happy is to be dead.”
“When is your birthday?”
“That’s random.”
“No, I am just asking because you have to be close to turning eighteen, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, in two years, but what then? My grades are too bad to go to college. I can’t get a job because I have no car; I have no money to buy a car because I have no job. It’s a vicious circle.”
“I want to help you. I can take you to work or school or whatever you need,” he tells me.
“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” I want to know what happened to his mom, but I don’t want to hurt him.
“You can always ask me anything; it’s okay.” He smiles.
“Okay,” I reply hesitantly “I would like to know how your mom died if you don’t mind talking about it.”
“Well, she killed herself.”
“Oh my God, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, really it’s fine. I actually think she is the reason I was so drawn to you from the start; you have the same sadness in your eyes that she did,” he explains. “I almost feel like she is around helping me sometimes. It sounds weird, but I feel her guiding me. I felt her guide me to you. I just didn’t understand why until we actually talked.”
Clouds That Were (Weathered Hearts) Page 8
