Beside Your Heart

by Mary Whitney

  “He was trying to sober me up.” Adam touched his eye. “As soon as he hit me and said your name, I snapped out of it. I was such a bloody mess.”

  “I bet you were.”

  “Please believe me, Nicki. Kate and I are over. It was a stupid mistake. It meant nothing to me.”

  I looked at Adam and held his eyes for a moment. “That may be, but it means something to me. It means something to me.”

  Adam reached for my hands, but I wrenched them away, tucking them inside my arms, which I crossed over my chest. I felt like I’d been attacked, and I needed the physical protection, even though it would do nothing for my imploding heart. Keeping my hands tucked away also seemed like a good idea just in case they betrayed me and reached out for his.

  When he saw that I’d physically rejected him, his face crumpled. “No, Nicki. Please no. You’ve got to believe me. I love you. I truly never meant to hurt you.”

  “Well, you did.” I closed my eyes, desperately trying to squelch back the tears, but my body heaved with a sob of painful regret. “I should’ve known.”

  “Fuck! No!” He looked panicked. “If I could take back that night, I would. I was very close to my grandfather. I was depressed about his death, but mostly I was devastated that you wanted to break up with me. I’ve hated myself from the moment David walked in.”

  “What if David hadn’t walked in?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Well, I do!”

  “But it didn’t happen.” He touched my arm and said with a begging voice, “I don’t want to lose you.”

  I jumped up from the sofa and cried out, “Oh yeah? Well, I wish I’d never met you! Go away and don’t come back.”

  As soon as it had come out of my mouth, I knew it sounded juvenile, but at that moment, I couldn’t stand seeing him. It was torture. Everything good between us had been tainted with pain and humiliation. Bawling, I shook my head in disgust at both him and myself.

  His eyes pled with mine. “Nicki, please. I love you. If I didn’t…”

  “Just go away!” I couldn’t handle any more. I darted toward the stairs, calling back as I sobbed, “Please, just leave me alone for once.”

  I realized it was a little strange to have left him sitting alone in my living room, but I wanted him out of the house. As a signal that he wasn’t welcome anymore, I slammed my bedroom door behind me.

  I dove onto my bed, crying into my pillow and waiting to hear him leave. It seemed like forever before the front door closed and his car drove away. My eyes flicked open as I grasped my new world.

  Adam cheated on me. I love him, and he cheated on me.

  But there was no joy to be had anymore. Maybe he’d liked me, maybe even a lot, but whatever we’d had together wasn’t enough for him. I’d been left hanging out there alone.

  I whispered aloud what had to be true: “He never really loved me. He wouldn’t have done it if he really loved me.”

  All of his explanations and apologies were meaningless to me. I could only focus on his actions. I would’ve never done it to him. I would’ve never hooked up with John just because I was sad about Lauren dying and Adam leaving. It didn’t seem possible that anyone who even merely liked someone would treat them that way. For the next hour, I sobbed, because the wonderful, loving boyfriend I thought I’d had was gone—poof—as if he’d never existed.

  When Mom came home, I wasn’t sure what to do. I couldn’t go downstairs and fake being okay. I hadn’t been to the bathroom, but I was pretty sure that I looked like shit. If I didn’t go down, though, she would come up, and since it was almost noon, I couldn’t pretend being asleep because she would just wake me up.

  I decided to just suck it up and let her see that I’d cried. She was going to know something was up anyway. I hoped I could get away with as little explanation as possible.

  Sure enough, she knocked on my door before walking in. “Nicki, are you up?”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my head to the side so that I could quickly make eye contact, show her I’d been crying, and go back to my pillow.

  Seeing my bloodshot eyes and red face, her voice filled with motherly concern. “Nicki, baby, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Is it about Adam? About him leaving?” She sat on my bed and gently placed her hand on my back. “You haven’t been yourself in weeks, but what’s happened now?”

  “I told you it’s nothing.”

  “It looks to me like it’s something. You can tell me, sweetie.”

  Could I tell her? No. It was humiliating. I wanted the world to hate Adam as much as I did at that moment, but the thought of telling anyone what he’d done was mortifying. I’d been a fool, and I didn’t need anyone else reminding me of it. I answered her by shaking my head into my pillow and meekly saying, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I saw his mother at church. She says that he’s very upset right now over his grandfather. She didn’t think it would affect him this much.”

  “I don’t care why he’s sad. I don’t care about him at all.”

  She was quiet for a moment. When I looked at her again, I saw she was mulling it all over.

  Before she could ask me if one of her hypotheses was true, I begged, “Mom, please. I want to be alone.”

  “Have you two broken up?”

  Going back to my pillow, I squinted my eyes shut. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” She sighed, defeated by teenage angst. “I understand. Don’t stay in here too long, though. It’s a beautiful day outside. If you get out, you’ll feel better.”

  That was a maternal crock of shit if I’d ever heard one. I was going to feel awful whether I was inside or outside, whether I was with people or alone, but in order to get her out of my room, I nodded, acknowledging her conventional wisdom.

  After she left, I got under the covers and wore myself out crying. I slept for a couple hours, which gave me a brief break, but less than ten seconds after I woke up, it came back to me: Adam cheated on me. I loved him, but he never really loved me.

  I tried to think back to the countless times he’d said he loved me. It had always felt like it was true—when he’d given me gifts, when we’d had sex, when we’d snuggle in my bed in the afternoon, or just those times when he’d murmur the words as he sneaked a kiss on my cheek at school.

  The last thought made me heave with grief. I’d have to face him the next day at school, and I had no idea how I would react when I saw him. Then I remembered I’d see my friends also. Would I ever be able to tell Lisa and Rachel what had happened? My heart ached so deeply at the thought of it that I knew I couldn’t do it.

  I quickly thought of Mom and Grandma never talking about what hurt them, and I suddenly realized I might have been too judgmental. Maybe there are things that are so agonizing you can’t even say them aloud. I felt that way, plus I was humiliated. So then maybe there are also things so shameful you don’t want anyone to know.

  I decided right then not to tell anyone. No one needed to know what had happened between Adam and me. It wouldn’t do anybody any good at all—least of all me.

  Eventually that evening, I made my way downstairs. The house smelled of Mom’s spaghetti with meatballs. It was my favorite dish. In a simple way, she was trying to make me feel better. I’d gone to the bathroom, so I knew I still looked like crap. There was no way to hide it.

  When she saw me, she said softly, “Oh, Nicki, I’m sorry.”

  Shrugging, I got myself a glass of water. “It’s okay.”

  “By the way you look, I have to disagree.”

  What was there to say to that? I turned away as I drank my water. After a few gulps, I asked, “Mom, can I stay home from school tomorrow?”

  “Nicki…” She said my name with such disapproval that I knew the answer would be no, but I gave it one more try.

  “Please, Mom. Just one day. My grades are great this semester. I don’t have anything due. I promise to
study. I’ll even clean the house. Please, don’t make me go to school tomorrow.”

  “Nicki, I don’t think staying home from school is going to make you feel any better. You’re going to have to see Adam at some point.”

  “I know…but please not tomorrow. I want some time alone.”

  She eyed me curiously. “Nicki, what’s happened? Has he done something to hurt you?”

  My entire being shut down. Even if I’d wanted to tell her about Adam cheating on me, my pathetic heart wouldn’t let me. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  That was a lie. I was sure I never wanted to talk with Mom about Adam, but I thought it was polite to leave an opening. Lucky for me, it worked.

  Mom sighed, “Okay, but soon. It’s not good to keep it so bottled up.”

  I looked at her sideways; I couldn’t let it go unnoticed that she had uttered that particular pearl of wisdom.

  Instantly catching my smirk, she gave in. “Oh, all right. You can stay home. Just for one day, though. I expect you in school on Tuesday.”

  That night, I forced myself to be sociable by sitting silently beside her as we watched show after show on TV. I didn’t cry, but my mind was rarely off Adam. I was just saving the tears for when I was alone.

  Chapter 27

  WHEN MOM LEFT THE HOUSE the next morning, I didn’t hear her at all. I’d had such a crappy night’s sleep of crying and feeling sorry for myself that out of exhaustion I slept most of the morning. Before lunch, I reviewed some Spanish for my upcoming exam and then vegged out in front of the TV again. Sometime after lunch but before Oprah, I kept my word that I would clean the house. As I scrubbed the bathtubs, I worried about the next day. I would have to see Adam for the next several weeks until the end of school. How could I get out of it?

  As I dusted the living room, I developed detailed plans on how to avoid him, but when I heard a car unexpectedly pull into the driveway, I froze. I looked at the mantle, where the clock showed the exact time that I usually arrived home from school. I panicked.

  Please, God, let it be Rachel or Lisa. Please.

  Adam’s distinct knock rattled the front door, and I looked down to see I was dressed in my usual housecleaning garb of boxers and a tank top. Smelling underneath my arms, I confirmed my lack of a shower. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was on top of my head in a ponytail, which was kind of cute, but my eyes were still puffy from all the crying.

  Damn it. I didn’t want him to see me cry again.

  Peeking through the peephole, I saw Adam standing in his soccer uniform looking hot as ever. I rolled my eyes. If it wasn’t a game day—his last game of the season—I’d say he’d done it on purpose. He knew how much I liked him in his jersey and shorts.

  With my heart beating double-time, I opened the door just enough so I could peer at him and give him a wary “Hi.”

  “Hi, Nicki.” His voice was warm. “I came round to check on you. You weren’t at school. Are you ill?”

  I felt sick then. I had never imagined he would come see me after I’d told him to leave me alone. What was I supposed to say about skipping school?

  I hated lying because I was so bad at it. I tried a half-ass one. “A little.”

  Of course, he didn’t believe me. “Can we please talk? Please? I don’t want things between us to end like this.”

  A comment like that helped me locate my spine. “Yeah, right. You’ve been fine with us breaking up all along. You just don’t want to be the asshole.”

  “Yeah, you’re absolutely right. I am an arsehole.” He said it with complete sincerity and then, with even more conviction, he continued, “But, Jesus Christ, you’re wrong that I want to split up. I’ve never wanted that. Not today…not ever.”

  Guilt pinched my heart. I was the one who had initiated a break-up, even if I’d later regretted it. I couldn’t talk for fear that I might cry. Instead, I simply pursed my lips and shook my head at him, which unexpectedly set him off.

  “Goddamn it. I love you. I’m never going to forget you. I—”

  My emotions were all over the place, but my intellect was still intact. For such a smart guy, Adam really was a lousy debater. I was my father’s daughter, and if he was arguing in court, there was no way my dad would ever leave an opening like that alone, especially if he had his own weaknesses in a case. It was time to go for the jugular. “You’re never going to forget about me?” I taunted him.

  “No, of course not. I—”

  “Well, you already did forget me…when you were with her. You forgot about me then, and you’ll do it again.” I closed my eyes, because the thought of him with Kate stung too much. When I opened them, he looked mortified, so I hammered the final nail into the coffin. “Just go. Then I can forget about you.”

  Right after I’d said it, I shut the door on him and ran upstairs. I heard him get in his car and drive away. Landing on my bed, I sat with my head in my hands crying. When I looked up, I spotted his Liverpool scarf hanging off my dresser mirror. Goddamn it. After that incident, the last thing I needed were reminders of him around me.

  I snatched it off the mirror and threw it in a sweater drawer that I knew I wouldn’t open for months. Then I found the leather book he’d made for me and threw it in there, too. Finally, rifling through my jewelry box, I located the necklace he’d given me. As I held it in my hand, I stopped for a moment.

  I didn’t know what to do with it. His words came back to me: “You have my heart.” Did I once? Did I really have his heart? Even if for just a little while? For a few minutes, I tenderly touched the pretty heart pendent, thinking about that day on the beach. I’d always heard people say that something felt like a dream—that day back in February felt like a fantasy to me. Yet the necklace was real; it wasn’t something I’d made up.

  I sighed and placed it back inside the jewelry box. Wiping away the tears trickling down my cheeks, I fell back on my bed, crying yet again.

  The nervous knots in my stomach woke me up the following morning. Even though I’d planned it so that I’d stay as far away from Adam as I could, I remained anxious. I started off the school day by arriving at my locker by half-past seven, which was early enough so he’d still be at home.

  I took out all of my books and folders and stashed them on a bookshelf in the back of the drama department’s practice auditorium. Lots of theater people left books or clothes in there if they were too lazy to go to their locker. I just happened to take up a whole shelf. I still had to run the gauntlet of Rachel and Lisa, but I hoped that I could deflect them just as I had Mom. I’d refused to talk with them about Adam for weeks anyway; my behavior wouldn’t be anything new.

  I thought everything was going as well as could be expected until the end of lunch. Rachel, Tom, and I ate together just as we always did, and nothing seemed different. At one point, though, Rachel mentioned a party at Lance’s on Friday night and said Adam and I should go.

  I quickly found a lie, which came out panicky but was reasonable enough to pass for the truth. “I’m going to my dad’s this weekend.”

  “Too bad. It should be fun.” Rachel continued on talking about her weekend plans, but I caught Tom’s eye.

  He looked at me intently. It was then I knew that Adam had told him. I’d never been on bad terms with Tom in my life—and I’d known him since kindergarten—but instantly, I considered him the enemy. I glared at him, frowning a little. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t talking about it.

  As soon as I left lunch, I started to worry about getting through the last weeks of school. With Tom watching over me, Adam would be present even when he wasn’t. Unfortunately, I’d also have to talk to Rachel and Lisa at some point, even if it was just to say we’d broken up for good, and it was inevitable that I’d see Adam every day in class.

  I was glued to Lisa’s side as we walked into English that day. Somehow I made it to my seat without looking at Adam at all. He didn’t say anything to me, and I kept my body angled in my des
k so that there was no way I could see him. It was pretty uncomfortable, but I figured I could handle it for one hour a day for the next few weeks.

  What I didn’t plan for was Lisa. About halfway through the class, she began looking at me curiously, and her stare became more and more annoyed as the hour continued. When the bell rang, she asked in a voice louder than necessary, “Nicki, can you show me where that passage is again?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adam’s body slowly move past us. I fumbled around for my book, foolishly hoping Lisa actually needed help with The Great Gatsby.

  “What is going on?” She was aghast. “You didn’t talk to Adam the whole class. Did you two break up?”

  She’d asked her question quietly, but she might as well have yelled it. I shirked back in my seat and looked down. She was my best friend, but the fact was, I didn’t want to tell her anything more than I’d told Mom, so I simply nodded.

  “What happened? Why didn’t you tell—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I jumped out of my seat and added, “Can you do me a favor? Can you tell Rachel?”

  “Wait a second. What’s happened? I know you two weren’t happy, but I thought that was because he was leaving.”

  Then it clicked for her. She looked at me accusatorily. “Did you tell him you didn’t want to go to England? Did you break up with him?”

  “I told you I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Can you just leave me alone?” I sounded like a broken record. How many times am I going to have to say it and to how many people?

  “Nicki, I know this year has been tough on you,” she said, “but what did you do? Have you made it worse?”

  Of all the questions she could’ve asked, she asked that one?

  I spit out my answer. “I didn’t do anything. Now can you please let Rachel know so I don’t have to?”

  Leaning back like I was dangerous, Lisa exhaled. “Okay…if that’s the way you want it…”

  As I walked a totally roundabout way home that I knew Adam would never travel, my hands still shook from my conversation with Lisa. The truth was that I did feel like I’d done something to Adam; in a way, I’d let him down. I’d pushed him away. It didn’t justify him letting that bitch Kate suck his dick, but I was a little at fault, too.