All of It

by Kim Holden

  I feel my body tense up. At my reaction, she pats my knee gently.

  “I’m opening an interior design firm next month. It’s always been a dream of mine. I wondered if you might help me out after school and this summer. I need an assistant—someone to take calls, set appointments, file paperwork, that kind of thing. Would you be interested? Dimitri said you lost your job recently and I think you would be a perfect fit. That is if you don’t mind working with me?”

  I’m stunned. “You’re joking, right?”

  She smiles and shakes her head.

  I jump up and hug her. “That would be amazing! I would love to work for you!”

  “Great!” she says, laughing. “It’s settled then. I plan to open in two weeks, so I’ll call you next week and we’ll discuss your salary and schedule.” She gives me a big, genuine smile, and then turns to face my mom as she stands. “It was so good to see you again, Jo. We’ll have to meet for lunch next week and get caught up.”

  They say their goodbyes and my mom and I walk Sunny out to her car.

  “Sunny?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Yes, Veronica?” She’s smiling at me.

  “I’m sorry. About Dimitri, I mean. I never wanted to hurt him.” I want to go on, but I don’t know what else to say.

  She pats my shoulder in her kind, motherly way. “I know, sweetie.” She gives me one more smile, then turns and climbs back into her SUV and drives away. My mom and I go back inside, where she takes me in a huge hug and we squeal happily, celebrating my new job. Just then, Teagan walks in the room.

  “What’s going on?” Teagan says, laughing at the sight of us.

  My mom speaks up first. “Dimitri’s mom just offered Ronnie a job. Isn’t that great?”

  The smile vanishes from Teagan’s face. “You didn’t take it, did you?”

  “Yes, I took it. Are you kidding?”

  He looks annoyed. “Can’t you see what he’s doing?”

  And now I’m annoyed. “What who’s doing?”

  “Dimitri. She’s only doing this so that he can get you back. You can’t see that?”

  “Teagan, I’m sure Dimitri said something to his mom to prompt this, but I’m sure it was only to help me out. This isn’t some kind of ploy to get me back.”

  Teagan throws his arms up. “Yeah right. Whatever, Veronica,” He glares, then turns and stomps downstairs. When I find him later, he’s sleeping on the futon.

  Life is sometimes … bruised and broken.

  Chapter 11

  Disturbing touch

  Unsolicited kiss

  I wake Sunday morning not wanting to repeat the prior two days. Teagan and I have been alone together in my house and haven’t said a word to each other. My parents are out of town until Monday evening and the house is so quiet. Quiet, but uncomfortably so, due to the grudge I’m holding against my basically homeless and beaten best friend. I feel horrible.

  I lie still in my bed and listen for any signs of movement from the adjacent room. Finally I call out, “Teag, you awake?”

  A pause, then his sleepy reply, “No.”

  “I’m sorry I’m such an ass.”

  I hear him laugh. Then he says, “It’s okay, I’m used to it … ass. I’m sorry, too.”

  It’s official. Everyone’s forgiven. “What do you want to do today?”

  Suddenly, my door creaks open, and he’s standing in the doorway of my room rubbing his good eye. He’s only wearing a pair of soccer shorts. My god, he’s huge. I knew he was big under all those clothes, but it’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen him without a shirt on. At 6’5”, he looks like a body builder.

  “Teag, seriously, you really need to lay off the steroids. When did you get so big?”

  He smirks. “That’s what she said.”

  I throw my pillow at him, which he easily dodges. “You’re such a pervert.”

  He laughs and flexes his biceps for me. “All natural, baby.”

  “Do you want to shower first, or should I?”

  “Considering you take forever to get ready, you go first. But, do me a favor today and leave me some hot water.”

  I pull the covers back and jump out of bed. “Deal.” I should’ve been a bit more selective in my choice of pajamas while I have a male friend sharing the house with me. I watch his eyes pop and then run from my head to my toes and back up to my head again. Note to self—no more tiny tank tops and short shorts while Teagan’s here.

  He snaps back to reality, shakes his head, and turns to exit my room.

  I shower as fast as I can. After I dress, I put on some lip balm and mascara. I’ll let my hair air dry so Teagan can have the bathroom. I find Teagan sprawled out on my tiny twin bed. He has the pillows propped up and is lying with his hands behind his head, still only wearing the soccer shorts. His legs dangle off the end of the edge, making him look like a giant trying to sleep on a miniature bed.

  “What’s that say?” he asks curiously.

  I’m bent over combing the tangles out of the underside of my hair and can’t see what he’s looking at. “What does what say?”

  “The painting. Did your parents give it to you? It’s got your name on it.”

  Here we go. I really don’t want to discuss Dimitri with him again. “It says Je t’aime.”

  “No shit, Veronica. What does it mean, in English?”

  My eyes are starting to fill up so I remain bent over. “Je t’aime is I love you in French.”

  He sits up and heads for the bathroom. “Cool,” he says, in passing. “That’s really nice of your parents, since they know you dig France and all.”

  I wait until I hear the door shut before I let the tears fall. God, I miss him.

  • • •

  That day, Teagan and I make grilled cheese sandwiches and watch a hockey game. Despite how the past couple of days have played out, today’s been fun and we’re joking around like old times. I order us a pizza for dinner, and he agrees to watch the movie I picked. We’re sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, facing each other. His legs stretch almost from one end to the other, so I have to lay mine on top of his. I found the movie while we were flipping through channels. It’s a love story that I’ve seen about a hundred times, but the end always makes me cry. I’m trying not to sniffle, brushing away the tears inconspicuously.

  “Veronica, do not tell me you’re crying?”

  Damn, he caught me. “So?” I say defensively.

  “Dude, that’s the cheesiest damn movie I’ve ever seen.” He’s relentless.

  I sniff loudly. “It’s not cheesy, it’s romantic. You, my friend, wouldn’t know romance if it hit you over the head.”

  “You doubt me?” he says, acting mildly shocked.

  “In a word, yes.” I’m only half joking. Teagan doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

  “Oh really? And which one of us has had sex? A lot.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “What does that have to do with being romantic? I hate to inform you, but sex does not equal romance.”

  He looks confused. “Sure it does. How do you think I get girls to sleep with me? I’m romantic.”

  I’m still laughing. “Banging Sheila Kratowski in the back seat of Larry’s Buick is not romantic. Easy maybe … but not romantic.”

  He shrugs and says, “Yeah, whatever.” It’s quiet for a few moments before Teagan asks thoughtfully, “Veronica, can I ask you something?” He looks too serious for Teagan … and that makes me nervous.

  “Sure,” I say apprehensively.

  “Did you and Dimitri do it?”

  I look down at my lap. “No.”

  “Why not? The douche bag was really into you. He still is. And you seemed really into him.”

  I can see that the joking is over and he’s just being sincere. Nosy, but sincere. So I answer, “He’s not a douche bag. And … I just can’t. What if I got pregnant?”

  “That’s what rubbers are for; even I know that. I mean, didn’t you want to?”
r />   “Of course I wanted to.” I feel myself starting to blush.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Why are you asking me all this?” I ask, defensively.

  “Because you seem bummed about it … still … it’s been weeks.”

  The tears are coming again. “Yeah, well I can’t be the girlfriend he deserves right now.”

  “I bet he’d take whatever you could give. Most guys would.” He adds under his breath.

  “It’s not that simple, Teag.”

  “Why not?” He pulls his legs out from under mine. Without waiting for me to answer, he leans toward me and says, “You know what your problem is, Veronica?” I look up and into his eyes. “You think too fucking much,” he says, and begins crawling over my legs. “Let your guard down a little. Get out of your head for once and let your body take over. Follow your instincts.” His legs straddle mine and before I know what’s happening, he’s kissing me.

  My first inclination is to resist, mainly because I’m in shock. His kisses are aggressive and exciting, and before I know it I’m kissing him back. I wrap my arms around his waist. He groans roughly and pulls my torso against his. I know I shouldn’t encourage him, but I’m doing what I was told and I’m not thinking. He stops kissing me only long enough to take his shirt off. I can’t help but touch his chest. The feel of warm skin suddenly brings an image to mind—Dimitri. I imagine it’s Dimitri I’m touching, Dimitri I’m kissing. God, I miss the way his touch could make me … feel.

  I’m lost in my fantasy … until Teagan reaches down and begins to lift my shirt. “This is Teagan, not Dimitri!” my brain screams over the other parts of me begging to continue. Fantasies are powerful, but this has officially gone too far. I push him back and crawl out from under him. I stand with my back to him, my face in my hands, and I start to cry again. I’m embarrassed and ashamed. And I’m sad … it’s the grief associated with loss. The loss of Dimitri. The loss of myself.

  Teagan is standing now, too, but keeps his distance. I can hear him pulling his shirt back on.

  “I’m sorry, Teag,” I say through the tears.

  He strokes my hair from the top of my head and down my back. “I’m not,” he says softly.

  “I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  Slowly he turns me around and pulls my hands away from my face. He smiles sheepishly. “Veronica, I know that it didn’t mean the same thing to you that it did to me. For all I know, you were probably thinking about that douche bag the whole time. But you know what? I don’t give a shit. I’ve wanted to kiss you since we were twelve years old; I just never had the balls to do it.”

  I sigh in relief and guilt. “I love you, Teag … just not that way. I’m sorry.” I feel pathetic.

  “It wasn’t so bad though, was it? Admit it, I’m a good kisser.” He still has that childish grin on his face.

  “As much as I don’t want to admit it, you’re not bad,” I say. I swear I just witnessed his ego grow … two sizes. I’m relieved that he’s smiling, so I prod. “Are you mad at me?”

  He laughs as if the question is absurd. “Hell no! I can finally cross kissing Veronica Smith off my list of things to do before I die.”

  That is such a “Teagan” thing to say that it makes me laugh out loud. “This is just between us, right? You won’t tell Tate?”

  “I was thinking about sending out a mass text or posting it on Facebook, maybe renting out a billboard …”

  “Come on!”

  “Kidding … I’m only kidding. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Thanks.” I pause and think twice before I ask the next question, but I’ve never been in this situation before and I have an impartial jury here. I close my eyes and let it fly. “How was it for you? I mean, am I a good kisser?”

  He smiles slyly. “On a scale of one to ten?”

  I wince and nod. “Sure.”

  “A nine and a half,” he says. His smile softens and his head tilts slightly to the right. “But if I’d been him, someone you were in love with, someone that you didn’t hold back with … someone that wasn’t like your brother,” he pauses, grinning, “then on a scale of one to ten it would’ve been a twenty.”

  In a weird way, I’m flattered. “Thanks.”

  Life is sometimes … over-thought.

  Chapter 12

  What else can I say?

  I eff’ed up

  After my mom talked to Teagan’s aunt, it was agreed that Teagan should stay at our house until graduation. She’s more than willing to take him in right away, but she lives about 20 miles from school and he doesn’t have a car, which would make getting to school difficult for Teagan. He’s going to spend the summer with her and then he’s off to college in the fall. He already has a soccer scholarship to a local college (as long as he passes all of his classes this semester; fingers crossed).

  Teagan checks in periodically with his grandma just to let her know he’s okay, but he doesn’t speak to his dad. It’s my hope that losing his son this way will encourage his dad to get sober, but I’m not holding my breath. To me, the important thing is that Teagan is safe. He seems happier now, but Teagan’s always been really good at putting on the happy-go-lucky façade. He can’t keep it up 24 hours a day though, and since we’re now living in close proximity to each other, I can see the other side of him, too. I see the sadness on his face when he thinks no one is watching. His bruise has outwardly healed, but I worry about what’s going on inside … emotionally. That will take more time.

  The last few months of my senior year seem to pass so quickly. Prom is approaching and graduation is only six weeks away. Signs of spring are beginning to poke through the snowy ground, and the days are getting longer. I’m more optimistic than I’ve been in months and all signs indicate that my life is heading in a positive direction again. I’m gaining control. I’m still not so great at asking for help, but I am making baby steps. The things that make me feel good are keeping up my connections with my friends and family, and preparing for college.

  I’ve applied to three local universities, and have been accepted to all of them. I have a 4.0 grade point average and I’m in the top five-percent of my graduating class, so things are looking up. My parents have set aside a college fund for me, but it’s only enough for the first few semesters depending on where I go; I insist on paying for anything beyond that. I’m looking for any available scholarship money, but it’s competitive. With budget in mind, the main concern is proximity to home. I would rather live at home and avoid housing costs if at all possible. It’s stressful, but I’m working through it.

  In March I started working for Sunny at her new office and have been there for about a month now. I love the job. Sunny is incredibly supportive. I learned quickly how smart and talented she really is. Her home is so beautiful; I’ve always thought so. But I never realized that she was actually an interior designer. For all of her intelligence and talent, she’s also pretty quirky. She can be absentminded and make rushed decisions, sometimes without completely thinking through the consequences. Dimitri used to tell me that she took some looking after, and now I finally understand what he meant. I basically act as her assistant. I place orders with vendors, take calls from clients, make appointments, manage her calendar, and try to keep her organized to make sure she doesn’t forget anything. I work every day after school, but I have weekends off.

  Everything seems to be going well, with one exception: Dimitri. I thought that as time passed, things would get easier. But they haven’t. He’s always nice when I see him, but we’re distant. He’s friendly with people, but aside from hanging out with Sebastian, he seems to keep to himself. He’s always been private. He has a few classes with Monica, so every once in a while I nonchalantly ask her about him. Of course, she sees right through me.

  “Veronica, you’re still not over him, are you?” Monica asks one afternoon as we’re walking out of literature.

  I’m shamelessly watchi
ng him walk down the hall in front of us. All I can think about is how right he was about a nice fitting pair of jeans.

  Monica waves her hand in front of my face. “Hey, Veronica?”

  Startled, I blink and look at her. “What?”

  “I said, you’re still not over him, are you?” Her accusation turns consolatory, and there’s pity all over her face. I hate that. Pity makes me feel even more pathetic.

  “What are you talking about?” I make a weak attempt at playing stupid.

  “You know what I’m talking about. Dimitri.”

  I don’t answer and, correctly, she takes that as a yes.

  “He thinks something’s going on between you and Teagan, you know.”

  I can’t hide my shock. “What?!”

  “Yeah, Tate said he was over at their house last week with Sebastian, and Dimitri came home and hung out with them for a while. He said Dimitri was asking questions about you and Teagan. Tate told him that nothing was going on, but he said he didn’t think Dimitri bought it.” She takes a breath and looks at me. “Nothing is going on with you and Teagan, is it?”

  “No! God, no! Teagan and I are just friends. I love him, but sharing a bathroom with the boy for over two months now is a huge turn-off.”

  Monica laughs. “I think I get the picture. I feel kind of sorry for Teagan though.”

  “What do you mean?” I know Monica doesn’t know why Teagan is really staying with my family. Or does she? Teagan and I told everyone that his dad had to move out of state for a job and that Teagan needed someplace to stay so that he could finish school. Tate knows the truth, but beyond that, everyone else believes the story.

  “Come on Veronica, Teagan’s totally in love with you. He always has been.” She’s looking at me suspiciously.

  My head shakes back and forth emphatically. “No, no, no, Teagan’s totally in love with anyone whose pants he can get into. We are just friends.” I will deny this to the end.

  “Whatever. I know he’s a man-whore, but he doesn’t care about any of them. The boy loves you. You really don’t see it?”