The Art of Life

by Carter, Sarah

  When we get to my school, I whisper, “See you later.”

  “I am going out tonight,” is all the reply that I get. “Will you be alright on your own, or do you want someone to sit with you?”

  “I think I will be okay on my own,” I quietly reply. “It’s been long enough.”

  He nods curtly. “I will see you in the morning sometime. I will leave money on the counter if you need anything.”

  “I should be fine,” I murmur. “See you tomorrow.”

  His eyes turn to look at me and they seem lost. I frown, but still get out of the car. When he drives away, I just stand there for a while staring off into the distance. What in the world did I do?

  The day goes by without event. Jeremy doesn’t text or call me at all, which is odd, because he usually does every day. A heaviness sits in my chest because I feel like something is terribly wrong. When I get home that night, he is nowhere to be seen. I find money on the counter, but no note. I spend the evening doing my homework, though I can barely concentrate. Part of me wants to stay up until he gets home, but I think he would get mad about that, so sometime before eleven, I go to sleep.

  Somewhere in the night, I am woken up by a loud thump. It makes me jump up in bed. Since I am home alone, it kind of scares me. There is some noise coming from the living room. I sit in my bed for a while, trying to think of what I am going to do. My stupid self left my cell phone on the kitchen table. Hearing even more noise, I finally get up. If I am going to die, I would rather see how it’s going to happen.

  Taking a deep breath, I open my bedroom door. All the lights are off, so I really can’t see anything. Creeping my way down the hallway, I suddenly flick on the living room light. Then I squeak. Jeremy and some girl are kissing each other by the door. “OH MY GOSH!” I yell. “Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” I quickly flick off the light. With my heart pounding out of my chest, I dart back to my room and slam the door.

  I put my hand on my face in mortification. I did not just see that! Part of me hurts. Like there is pain in my chest. Am I having a heart attack? I go and sit down on my bed. Tears start to well up in my eyes and I hang my head. What in the hell is wrong with me? Really Isabelle, what did you think was going to happen? Sooner or later this was going to occur. I didn’t think I would have to see it though. My chest heaves as it tightens even more.

  Suddenly, there is a knock on the door. I don’t answer. I just sit there, staring at it. A few seconds later, there is another knock, this time heavier. “What?” I exclaim. “I am going back to sleep!”

  Jeremy opens my door and lets it swing open. He is leaning in the doorway with his hands on the frame. “You are not in bed,” he articulates. “It’s hard to go to sleep, when you are not in bed.”

  “I am so sorry,” I whisper, standing up. “I didn’t know! I heard noise, and had to check. I mean, after everything I have been through, you can’t blame me!”

  “No,” he says quietly. “You had every right to come out there. I am sorry you had to see that.”

  The pain I feel is excruciating. “Go back out there,” I hiss. “I promise to just go to sleep. Go, do….whatever it was you were going to do.”

  “She is gone now,” Jeremy says softly.

  That makes me groan. “I am so sorry Jeremy! I didn’t mean for that to happen! I had no idea. From now on, I will stay in my room. Even if I am going to die, I will stay in my room.”

  He snorts and laughs. “I sent her home.”

  “Why?” I ask. “Never mind! It’s none of my business!”

  It’s dark, but I see his eyes look up at me. They look so sad. “Have you ever just needed the touch of someone Isabelle?”

  Okay, now that pisses me off. “Jeremy,” I snap. “Really? You are asking ME that?”

  “Just the feel of someone?”

  “Jeremy!” I yell. “I have never felt the touch of anyone! Never, my whole life! The only person who has ever shown me any affection is you! So, yes, I have wanted very much the touch of someone, but I don’t have that option. So sorry, I don’t sympathize. Why did you send her home if that’s what you needed? I don’t care what you do.”

  There is silence as he stares at me. The air is very thick and tense. “She was empty. Her touch was empty.”

  “Are you drunk?” I ask.

  “Maybe,” he says, “just a little.”

  Rolling my eyes, I just say, “Oh geez.”

  “Isabelle, I just NEED to have the touch of someone. Someone who matters.” Jeremy just looks dead at me.

  My heart stops and I don’t even know what to say. My mouth opens and shuts. “What am I….” I start. Before I know it, Jeremy rushes at me. He plants his lips on mine and kisses me. It takes me a second because I am taken so off guard. Jeremy starts off soft but as soon as I kiss back, he eagerly meets me. The kisses become passionate. Now, I have never experienced this before, so I tense up. He brings his hands up and holds my face with them. My hands somehow find themselves wrapping around him. We press up against each other. My body is feeling things it has NEVER felt before. Part of me feels like my legs are going to give out. Jeremy parts my lips with his and kisses me in a way he never has before. I actually take a quick breath in. Okay, wasn’t expecting that. What am I doing? What am I doing?

  It’s like a heat starts to build up inside of me. I pull Jeremy tight against me. He finally pulls his hands away and pushes me back. I gasp lightly. Walking with me, he backs me up to the bed. Not being able not to, I sit down. Reaching down, Jeremy takes his shirt off. Really, okay, in this situation, that does not help on calm me down. “Jeremy,” I barely whisper.

  “Hmmm,” he hums, pushing me down. His lips find mine again. I can’t help myself, I lose it and kiss him back. Jeremy grabs me by the waist and shoves me up farther on the bed.

  When he pulls back and starts to kiss my neck. I stutter, “Jeremy, what are you doing?”

  He playfully bites me. “I am enjoying myself. Are you not?”

  “Oh no,” I whimper. “I am.”

  “Good,” he breathes against my skin.

  My eyes actually roll into the back of my head, but when his hand starts to pull at my clothes, they shoot back open. “Jeremy!” I yell.

  He props himself over me. “Yes?”

  “I am not going to do that with you!” I shout.

  Raising his eyebrow, Jeremy asks, “You won’t do what with me?”

  “Have sex,” I hiss.

  Letting his head hang, Jeremy sighs. “Isabelle, I may be drunk but I am not stupid. I would not have sex with you right now. That was not my intention.”

  “Oh, oops.”

  “Do you want to stop?” He asks me, looking back into my eyes.

  I don’t know what to say about that, but the word, “No,” comes out of my mouth.

  Jeremy bends back down and kisses me again. Instantly, it’s like my body has a mind of its own. We push and pull at each other desperately, like we are trying to bring the other one through. The world disappears and all I can concentrate on is Jeremy, the touch of him on my fingers, the heat of his body on mine, the incredible drive I feel to stay connected to him.

  Minutes, an hour, or a few later, we finally pull apart. Jeremy just breathes heavily against my lips. “We need to stop.”

  Nodding, I squeak, “Yeah, that is probably a good idea.”

  There is a moment of silence and then he says, “I don’t want to.”

  “We NEED to,” I emphasize. “Come on, you should sleep.”

  Not moving, Jeremy just stares at me. Finally, he whispers, “Fine.” He falls down next to me on the bed and rolls onto his back.

  We lay there quiet for a few minutes. “Are you mad at me?” I finally ask.

  Turning to look at me, Jeremy retorts, “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Because I wanted to stop,” I reply.

  “No,” he murmurs. “I could never be mad at you for something like that.”

  Nervously, I smile. “Okay.”


  “Come here,” Jeremy says, opening his arms. I go over and crawl into them. “Let’s just sleep.”

  “Alright,” I whisper. We lie there, but it isn’t long before I feel Jeremy rhythmically breathing.

  So my question is, did he fall asleep or pass out? I don’t understand drinking. Wait, is that why this happened? Is it because he was drunk? If it was…….how am I going to feel about that? I press my face into Jeremy’s chest and close my eyes. I should know this is just what it is. Jeremy needed the touch of someone and I was here. I guess I would rather it be me than a random stranger. I think that is what he wanted too. Taking a deep breath, I clench my eyes shut and try to go to sleep.

  When morning comes, I find Jeremy and I separated on the bed. Sitting up, I see that he is still dead to the world. Trying hard not to smirk, I just shake my head. He is going to be sleeping for a while. I carefully get out bed and sneak out of the room. Gently, I shut the door, not wanting to wake him.

  I go into the kitchen to make some coffee. While it is brewing, I just stand there with my hand on my lips. Every second of last night runs through my head. My heart actually starts to flutter again. It’s like I can still feel his touch. Shaking my head, I wait for my coffee.

  After I am done with it, I sit at the kitchen table staring at my bedroom door. I am not even sure what to say to him when he gets up? What DO you say in this situation? Hey, good morning, thanks for last night. I don’t think that is how I should handle it. Finally, I groan and decide to take a shower.

  It is calming. I wash my hair and everything. After, I am done, I turn and let the water run down my face. Images and feelings keep coursing through my mind. Suddenly, with a bang, the bathroom door opens. It makes me jump. Then a few seconds later, I hear wretching. “Jeremy!?” I gasp.

  There is no response. I turn off the shower and reach out for my robe. After I am done pulling it on, I open the curtain. Jeremy is of course, on the floor, throwing up in the toilet. I sigh heavily and get out of the shower. Squatting down next to him, I put my hand on his forehead to help hold his head. He throws up for a while. You think this would bother me, but I have dealt with it enough with my mom. This is nothing. He heaves for a while and then finally stops.

  “Are you done?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I think so,” he groans. Jeremy falls over and sits next to the toilet. I go and get a wash cloth. After getting it wet, I come over and hand it to Jeremy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “You don’t have to help me.”

  “Oh geez,” I groan. “Yes, I do. Relax.” Turning I fill a tiny cup up with water and hand that to him, too. “Rinse out your mouth.”

  He does and spits it into the toilet. “I feel like I am going to die.”

  “You are not going to die,” I say, crossing my arms. “You are hungover. You wish you were dying. How much did you drink last night?”

  “You know,” Jeremy retorts. “I don’t remember. Oh crap.” He bends over and starts to puke again.

  I kneel down next to him and rub his back. When he is done, Jeremy rests his head on the toilet. “I wish I could do more to help you, but trust me, there isn’t anything I can do. You have to wait this out.”

  “Yeah,” he grumbles. “Been through this before.”

  Getting uncomfortable, I sit down on the floor. I arrange my robe so nothing is showing. You know what happened last night isn’t important right now. Jeremy groans and falls over, laying his head on my lap. That makes me laugh. “Why don’t you get comfortable?”

  “Shh,” he hushes me. “Not so loud.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper, still giggling. “I am sorry, but this is kind of funny.”

  He closes his eyes and moans. “It is not funny.”

  “Yes, it is. Maybe it will teach you not to drink so much.”

  Jeremy drapes his arm over his face. “Sunlight is so fricking bright. Ugh!” I just laugh and shake my head. Sighing, Jeremy finally says, “So, how did I get home last night?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Well, I remember being at the bar and…….then I woke up in your bed,” Jeremy replies.

  My heart shatters into a million pieces. I don’t even know if I can come up with words. “You don’t remember last night?”

  “Nope.”

  “Like anything?” I quietly say.

  Jeremy removes his arm and looks at me. “No, why did I do something stupid? How did I get in your bed?”

  I think I may actually cry…..on top of him. The look in his eyes is a confused one. I can’t tell him, I just can’t. What would he say? It would just be awkward. He wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t drunk. “No,” I finally say, trying to put on a smile. “You just crawled into my bed and passed out. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  “Oh good,” he sighs. “I know I didn’t drive. I got a ride to the bar we were at.”

  “Mmm,” I hum. My eyes are starting to tear up. I dig my nails into my palm to try and distract myself. I look away, hoping that Jeremy won’t see.

  When he puts his arm back over his eyes, I take a sigh of relief. A single tear falls down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. There is just silence for a while. My hand is probably bleeding from me digging into it so hard. “So,” I finally say, kind of harshly. “What would prompt you to drink so much damn liquor?”

  There is no movement from Jeremy. He seriously fell asleep on me? Suddenly, he says, “I tend to get drunk every year on that day.”

  “On purpose?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  “I don’t start out with that being my goal, but it usually ends up that way,” Jeremy answers. Slowly, he articulates, “To drown my sorrows.”

  My hand reaches to the top of his head, and my fingers start to twirl the light curl to his hair. Hesitantly, I ask, “What were you sad about?”

  Taking a deep breath Jeremy says, “Yesterday, well yesterday was the anniversary.”

  “The anniversary for?”

  “It is the day that Kaitlin died.” The pain in my chest ebbs for a second. He is telling me something about his past. What do I say? What do I do? I just keep on twirling his hair and leave it for him to talk about. Jeremy takes his arm away from his face and looks at me. “No questions?”

  “No, I want to know who Kaitlin is, but I promised to not talk about your past, so I am not asking any questions.”

  “Well,” he says quietly looking at me. “I think I am ready to talk about it, but you have to promise you won’t tell anyone what I tell you.” I nod in reply. Jeremy takes in a deep breath and then starts, “To start off, I am from Texas, but you knew that already. What you didn’t know is that…well….I am an orphan, I guess you could say.” He looks at me as my eyebrows shoot up. “See, that is the reason I don’t tell anyone, because I hate getting sympathy for it.”

  Shaking my head, I retort, “I wasn’t doing it for sympathy, I was just surprised.”

  “Okay, well, I bounced around from foster home to foster home. I was very closed off and never really attached to anyone. I was much like you. There were never signs of affection or the reassuring touch of family. So, that is how I grew up. During the summer before my 8th grade year, I finally got to my last foster home. They were incredibly nice people, but I was so closed off and guarded that I kept my distance. The wife was a music teacher and she said it would be good for me to start playing an instrument. I, of course, scoffed the idea, buts she said that was how I would earn my allowance.”

  I interject, “So, you picked the violin?”

  “Yes, to me that was one of the most beautiful sounding instruments that I knew of. So, she started to teach me how to play and because of how awesome I am, I picked up on it quickly.” Jeremy smiles at me, and I laugh lightly. “Toward the end of that summer, Henrietta, my foster mother, decided she was going to send me to a music camp for a week. I was horrified. I did not want to go, but in the end there wasn’t an option.

  So, off I went to music camp. To say the least, I did not fit in well. I was
the kid who played sports and acted all crazy. I was not the type to sit and play music all day long, but I gave in and tried. I was behind everyone else, so I would stay later than the rest of the kids and practice. I got very frustrated with myself. I wanted to be the best in everything.

  Well, one evening, I got really aggravated and started to swear like a sailor, which is not surprising coming from me. Suddenly, there was this light voice saying, ‘Did your parents not tell you, it’s not nice to curse?’

  I looked up and saw this girl. She was my age. She had short black hair and glasses. What everyone would call dorky. I stuttered and stammered, and said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was here.’

  ‘I heard you playing. You are getting better in just these few days,’ she stated.

  ‘You have been watching me?’ I asked.

  She blushed and nodded her head. ‘My name is Kaitlin.’

  ‘I am Jeremy,’ I responded. ‘So, why have you been watching me?’

  Shrugging, she bashfully looked away. ‘I don’t know. I can help you though.’

  ‘How?’ I asked.

  ‘I will show you how to place your fingers correctly, that is where you are messing up. Here, I will show you.’ Kaitlin walked over and started to move my fingers. Her touch was gentle and soft, I remember that much. We spent the rest of the evening with her helping me, and in the end, I was better.

  For the rest of camp, we were inseparable. Kaitlin was so innocent and sweet. I made her laugh, and she said she didn’t do that often. We really didn’t talk much about our lives. There was no need for questions. When camp came to an end, we stood there waiting for our rides. Kaitlin held out her hand and gave me a piece of paper. ‘What is this?’ I asked.

  ‘It is my address and phone number,’ she whispered. Kaitlin couldn’t meet my eyes. ‘I don’t have many friends, but I bet you have a lot of them, so I would understand if you didn’t contact me.’

  I smiled and said, ‘No, I will definitely stay in touch.’

  That made her smile. ‘Great! I am starting a new school this year and am nervous about not having any friends.’