by M.L. Cameron
Luke
I woke with a jolt and pulled my arm towards my body. When I couldn’t move I looked over at my arm and saw Ana. When had we fallen asleep? The light was off and one of my blankets had been thrown over us. I felt vaguely like a four year old. But not entirely. Ana was breathing steadily. I brushed some of her hair from her face and watched her sleep.
She probably felt me watching her and her eyes slowly opened. I watched her go through the early stages of confusion. And then recognition. She relaxed against me and I kissed the top of her head. “Where are we going?” she murmured and I glanced up at my clock, we’d only been asleep for a few hours.
“Nowhere, we can go tomorrow. Go back to sleep.”
Her eyes shut, her head rested on my shoulder and one of her hands laid on my stomach. “I’m so tired,” she whispered. “And I have such a headache.”
“Don’t you have post-surgery meds you’re supposed to be taking?”
She didn’t answer, her breathing steadied out and she was asleep again. I tried to shut my eyes but couldn’t seem to stop watching the girl I loved. She was amazing. I wondered what she was dreaming about, if it was me. “I love you,” I murmured and sighed at how easy it was to say it to her. Why couldn’t I say it when she was awake and listening to me?
Because she’s not who you think she is… came floating into my dreams. She’s different, beyond your wildest imagination. And until you know about her, you’ll never be able to say it. No boy nor man can ever say I love you to my daughter. Not until she knows the truth about herself and he accepts her for it.
I woke up to quiet sobs, the commentary in my head forgotten. The light in my room was on and Scarlett was sitting beside Ana, rubbing her arm, trying to get her to stop crying. “What’s wrong?” I asked and took Scar’s place beside Ana. She pressed her forehead into my shoulder and shut her eyes. “Are you alright?”
“No… Maybe… I don’t know. They said headaches would be a huge side effect but I can’t do this. It hurts…”
“Okay. Scar, go get Dad. You’re going to be okay,” I murmured, rubbing my hand up and down Ana’s arm. “It’s going to be all right…”
I heard someone open my door and I turned, my father was walking in, his entire being in doctor mode. He moved me away from Ana and took her hands in his. “Anastasia, can you tell me where it hurts?”
“Everywhere,” she breathed, shutting her eyes against the world.
“Take a deep breath, all right… In…” he waited as she took an unsteady breath in. “And out… Okay? Count to twenty for me. I’ll start with you, one… two…”
“Three… four… five…” she got to thirteen and then was overwhelmed with sobs. “I can’t… It hurts.”
“Open your eyes Anastasia, can you look at me?”
She nodded slowly and looked at him. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and scanned over her eyes. “I see it,” he murmured and turned the flashlight off. “Luke, go get an ice pack, hurry though.”
I ran from the room as fast as I could. Down two sets of stairs and into the kitchen freezer. Then back up. I wasn’t breathing hard as I came to the top of the stairs, like most people would have been. “Turn the light off,” my father commanded, directing Ana to the bed. “And keep the ice on her forehead if possible. If not lay it right here.” He indicated to an area of her head and I nodded.
I sat next to Ana and held the ice pack on her forehead. “Is she going to be okay?” I asked and he smiled at me a little.
“She’ll be just fine. She’s having some of the common side effects. Remember when I said she’d be sensitive to light? That’s all that’s happening. Her pupils are dilating and refracting at such rapid paces that her brain is having trouble trying to register everything.”
“But she’ll be okay?”
“She’s going to be all right, just let her sleep it off. I’ll look into getting her some eye drops and medication for when she needs it. Just let her sleep. In four hours you have to go to school though. So make sure you get up.”
♪♪♪
I sat in psychology and only half-listened to our lecture. “Mr. Surmise could you read what you wrote in your journal today?” the teacher asked.
Flipping open my composition book, my mind drifted to the strange dream I had. “Yesterday was strange. I spent my day with Ana. I wonder what she’s doing right now… Sleeping… Sitting with my father… doing homework... She is amazing. I wonder what my dream was about, the one where someone tells me she’s different. Where they tell me she doesn’t know the truth about herself. It’s going to be hard to talk to her about it, about her mother. I’ve never tried talking to her about her mom. It probably won’t be completely horrendous, but I really don’t want her to be upset.”
That was my two minute tangent, the two minutes we had to write about anything we wanted to. “All right, this is a perfect example of how school is dictating everything. That passage is properly organized and worded…”
The teacher continued on and I shut them out, no longer paying her any attention. I stared out the window, looking at the bright blue of the sky. No clouds or trees were able to obstruct my view. No one can ever say it to her. You have to help her understand… You have to…
The voice faded out of my head and again I was left with a mystery. What was different about Ana? I asked myself. Everything, she was everything I could have every wanted and more. But why couldn’t I say the words and tell her how much I loved her. Because she’s different, I snapped at the voice in my head.
Ana
I sat on the floor of my studio, in jeans and a tank top. There would be no dancing. I couldn’t. Dancing would mean finding a new partner. Dancing would mean giving up my time with Luke. I couldn’t give up my time with Luke. And finding a new partner would mean that I would be spending hours and hours with them. I wasn’t going to find a new Luke.
The door to the studio opened and I looked up. Luke sat down beside me and took my hand. He didn’t ask any questions or expect me to say anything. He was comfortable in the dim silence. “Can I ask you something?” he asked and I nodded. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, what is it?”
“Do you remember your mother?”
I was silent for a long time. Did I remember my mother? “Every day,” I whispered and leaned into him, to show him that I wasn’t upset that he had asked. “I remember her every day…”
“What do you remember about her?”
Shutting my eyes a faint smile appeared on my face. “I think I remember everything. But I barely know anything. She danced, she was an amazing dancer… Better than I was. She always smelled like apples, her hair was blonde, like mine. And her eyes were the same shade of blue. She brought me to a studio… probably before I turned one. Her parents resented the fact that she had married a doctor, I never got that. When she died… I stopped dancing for a long time. I stopped doing anything that made me happy. It was probably a year after that when I went back to dance.”
“What did you talk about with her?”
“Mostly she talked to me about dance. About passion and love. About how dedication meant nothing if you didn’t have the will to do it. I miss her sometimes. But I was so young… So I don’t remember everything. But I remember the important things. Why are you asking about my mother?”
“No reason really, I was just wondering.”
The door opened and Dad looked in. “Oh… I heard something, I thought you were dancing…”
“No. I’m not.”
He nodded and started to leave the room… Suddenly he turned around, “I know you’re older… And I probably should have had this conversation with you a long time ago but… Umm… You know how to be safe right?”
“Safe with what?” I asked, playing dumb. Luke shook his head and smiled. “No, I’m confused.”
“Safe with… When you… There are things that happen when you’re with a person for a certain amount of time… Damn it, you know what I mean. Why is it I
can have this conversation with my patients but not my own daughter.”
“What conversation?”
“The conversation I’ve been trying to have for weeks… You know what, never mind. If you need anything pertaining to… that thing… then come and ask me. Okay?”
“Oooooh,” I drew the word out for a few seconds. “You mean if I want birth control.” I smiled at him and he walked out grumbling. “I love you!” I yelled before the door closed. “He’s insane.”
Luke laughed but he seemed distant. I turned to look at him and watched his expression. He seemed to be in some place far away. “Are you all right?” I asked and he jolted.
“Yeah...”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
He shrugged. “Things.”
“Like what?” I couldn’t ever remember a time when I had to ask him to tell me what he was thinking. He usually told me without me saying anything.
Again, his shoulders went up. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay…”
Luke
I sat at my desk and scrolled through a Google page. Ana was asleep on my bed and the house was quiet. It was two in the morning and even Ana’s kitten was asleep in her basket. I clicked on the search bar and typed in Holiday Faith… The first site that appeared with the newspaper article about when and where she had died. I read through it. She was killed in a car crash, her body was too mangled to have an open casket and her daughter was completely distraught, or so the article said.
That didn’t tell me anything. I saw a biography and clicked on that. ‘Holiday Faith was a dancer who was tragically killed. She danced with a passion few people have in their entire lives.’
I spent about an hour going through web pages that told me nothing. There was absolutely nothing to be said. How was I going to figure it out?
Keep trying! The voice encouraged. Ask her father about me. Ask him and don’t let him push you away.
There was nothing for me to do. I shook my head and pulled my shirt off. Laying beside Ana had become practically an everyday thing. She sighed and rolled to rest her head on my shoulder. “I wish you could hear me… I love you…”
When she didn’t respond I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
Days went by and every time I saw Ana’s father she was there and I didn’t want to seem crazy so I never said anything. A week before my first game I was sitting at the hospital waiting for my mother, I was supposed to be driving her home. I wandered around the hospital, until I found his office. His secretary was sitting silently, going over papers.
“Is Mr. Faith in his office?” I asked and the secretary looked up. She was older, gray hair covered her head.
“Yes, I believe he is.”
“Is there any way I could talk to him?”
She nodded. “All right, just let me tell him you’re here.” She picked up the phone and dialed an extension number. “Nick, someone’s here to talk to you. Your daughter’s boyfriend I believe.” She set the phone back on the cradle and nodded to the closed door.
I went through it and saw Ana’s father sitting behind an old desk. He was looking through a photo album but he closed it as soon as I walked in. “Luke, what are you doing here?”
“My mom needs me to drive her home. But… Actually I was wondering if I could talk to you about… Umm.. About Holiday Faith…”
His eyes went blank. “You don’t have to… I was just wondering about her.”
“I haven’t talked about Holiday in years. Not even Ana asks about her anymore.”
“Ana told me what she remembers but I was just wondering about some things…”
He ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I guess I could answer some questions if you want to ask.” I sat down in one of the chairs that sat in
