Losing Her

by Mariah Dietz

  My heart thunders in my chest as I try to keep up.

  “I’ve decided I’m going to transfer. My dad had a really good friend that owns a medical lab. I can work there as well as maintain classes, and the lab will give me additional credits. It’s a really great opportunity because most have to have their masters to work there, and obviously I don’t have that, but he’s allowing me to come and see how things go on a trial basis.”

  “A lab? What kind of medical lab?”

  “They do all sorts of things, but it’s geared around trying to understand diseases and cures. They don’t base it on drugs. It’s all about being able to curtail issues or permanently fix them.”

  “That’s amazing. Will you be staying at your mom’s, then? Or is it close enough to San Diego that you’ll keep your apartment?”

  Her eyes fall to the ground, and my muscles constrict. I’m about to lift her face so I can better understand what’s going on. The need is nearly desperate as I watch her head shake and then find her eyes back on me. They’re filled with an emotion that I can’t translate, and my whole chest begins to burn.

  “I broke the lease with my apartment. I’m going to get a new one … in Delaware.”

  “Delaware?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I’m leaving in the morning.”

  “What? No. You’re not doing this.” My head shakes vigorously as if in an effort to dispel the words that are now being screamed in my mind. “You’re not running from me.”

  “I’m not running, Max.”

  “The hell you aren’t!” I yell. “You can’t run away from all of this. It’s just going to follow you.”

  Ace looks up at me and her lips are pursed from anger and determination. “All you’ve wanted is space. This should make you happy.”

  Her words hit me as I watch her eyes remain distant and cold while staring at me. I can tell she believes it, that I haven’t wanted her to be present.

  “That’s not …” I stammer, trying to explain my feelings before all hell breaks loose. “That’s different.”

  She looks at me with raised eyebrows. The piece of Ace that has been missing for weeks now, is still vacant from her eyes. “It’s something I need to do.”

  “Now isn’t the time to run.”

  “I’m not running, Max!”

  “You are! Just like he did.”

  “I’m not your dad, Max. I know there’s been a lot going on these couple of months, but I think this is for the best.”

  “The best for who? What about us?”

  “We can’t go back to dating because of what’s happened. I’m not a pity case.”

  “I don’t want to date you just because of your dad!”

  “Just!”

  “Just what?”

  “You said just because, meaning it’s a factor.”

  “Ace—”

  “No! You wouldn’t talk to … you wouldn’t even look at me, Max. Now you want to get back together?”

  “We never broke up!”

  “You returned my things! You avoided me! You kicked me out of your house!”

  “You took off in the middle of the night without saying anything and then told me you needed your space!”

  “Screw you, Max!” Her brown eyes finally show the first sign of emotion. Unfortunately, it’s anger and completely devoid of any trace of what I want to find there.

  She turns as I object and quickly makes her way back across to her driveway and climbs in her car, avoiding my words and the ugly confrontation. This is so like her; as soon as something spooks her she flees.

  I follow her. Of course I follow her. She’s telling me that she’s leaving. Leaving school. Leaving California. Leaving me. I stand outside of Savannah’s, yelling and begging, threatening to stay all night, all week. Eventually, Jenny surprises me by coming outside. I didn’t even know she was here. She looks angrier than I thought possible as she storms over to me. I see a familiar look in her eyes, the desire to hit me. It isn’t exactly a foreign response, but it certainly is from Jenny. She’s angry … with me, demanding that I leave.

  We stand in the front yard, verbally sparring with one another, until Caulder pulls up in his police cruiser, looking both confused and relieved as he asks what’s going on.

  “He did this!” she screams.

  “Did what?” Caulder and I ask in unison. My brows knit with a mixture of irritation and confusion.

  “She said she’s leaving. That she needs to get some space and sort through things.” Hearing Jenny say that she’s leaving hurts even more than it had coming from Ace. I don’t know if it’s because my brain had refused to fully comprehend the ramifications of this outcome or if it’s because knowing that she’s told her sisters makes it official.

  I know by Jenny’s reaction and the look of shock on Caulder’s face that Ace was serious when she said I was the first to know. She’s waited until the very last moment to tell us all.

  When Caulder’s fist slams into my left cheek, I know he’s hurt and that he blames me too. A punch like this happens from reaction, rather than thought.

  Kyle comes to my door the next day. I watched Ace drive away less than an hour ago. I don’t know what to expect as I open the door. His face is haunted and yet blank. I look at him expectantly. I’ve always liked Kyle, but with losing her, I don’t intend to maintain ties with the rest of the family. When his eyes finally focus on mine, I see anger fill them, and I know he’s going to hit me. I don’t move or make any attempt to stop him. It’s not like he can hurt me, not after what I’ve experienced in the last twenty-four hours.

  The week after Ace leaves is the most agonizingly slow week I’ve ever experienced. Heartache and misery have the uncanny ability to make the minutes in an hour stretch and duplicate. There have been over a thousand times in the past year that I’ve wished for time to slow down like it is now.

  Moments that I had Ace naked and begging me to not stop touching her. Moments where we were laughing so hard it would take a few moments to be able to breathe before we could speak. Moments where we’d be lying in bed and I could appreciatively stare at her and thank God it was my arms she wanted to lie in. But those moments had all sped by like the speed of sound. It’s pain that slows down time, that makes seconds feel like hours, as you debate the reason to continue breathing.

  Kendall’s the first Bosse to come and see me. I don’t know if Jameson asked her to or if she just feels that it’s her responsibility since after Ace and David, she’s the Bosse that knows me best.

  She stands in the doorway of my bedroom, staring at everything but me.

  “She’s coming back,” she says quietly.

  My head snaps up to look at her as my body lunges to a sitting position from my bed where I immediately see Ace’s bedroom shade, still pulled shut.

  “What? When?” I demand, feeling relief wash through me.

  “I don’t know. A couple of weeks maybe?”

  “Dammit, Kendall! Get the fuck out of here!”

  “She won’t stay away. She can’t. Ace was accepted to her dream college on the East Coast and didn’t accept because she didn’t want to be that far away. She’s like our dad. She needs to have family with her. This won’t last.”

  “Get out, Kendall!” I yell, silently praying she’s right.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “Get out!” I yell again, standing and pointing a finger to the door that she’s slinking toward.

  “She’s not just pushing you away!” Kendall yells back at me, and I catch the anger and hurt flash on her face.

  Ace always loved having her family close, but it hadn’t taken long for me to realize that although she loved them, they needed her. They depended on her for her playful attitude and calmness. She was what diffused arguments and confrontations, brought laughter, and more importantly, she was their glue. I don’t know if she just stopped caring or just doesn’t realize the dependency we all have. She left us all, cutting us off from our addiction without wa
rning, causing us all to experience agonizing withdrawals.

  I hurt too much to comfort Kendall, and I’m still too angry. Kendall should have stopped her. She and her sisters had influenced her to do things in the past, like get the tattoo that she always thought was so cliché. They should have stopped her.

  I should have stopped her.

  “Get the fuck out, Kendall!” I scream as I grab a glass filled with water that someone had brought me at some point and send it flying across the room. It crashes against the wall, near Kendall’s head, making glass and water rain down beside her. She cowers slightly and then sneers at me before turning to leave.

  A small part of me instantly regrets my reaction. I know I’m being a royal asshole and that Jameson will be pissed at me. He should be pissed at me. If he had done that to Ace I would have gone ballistic, or as Ace would call it … I cease my thoughts instantly. Having another damn thought trace back to her has my anger overshadowing all of the guilt I felt seconds ago.

  I stand up and grab a framed picture of Ace and me from her birthday last year, and hurl it at the wall with such force that it dents the drywall as glass shatters to the floor.

  Four days later, Jenny comes. In some ways seeing her fuels my anger even more, partly because Jenny and Ace have the most physical similarities. It’s sort of like seeing the ghost of the girl I love haunting me at an even more aggressive level.

  She quietly walks to my bed and perches on the edge of it. We haven’t spoken since Savannah’s, when I’d demanded to see Ace and she’d blamed me. I still haven’t forgiven her, and it’s obvious she knows by the way her eyebrows are drawn and her mouth is turned down with pity and guilt.

  “She loves you, Max. She loves you so much. She’s just scared, and hurt, and lost. With losing dad, and mom being so distant … if you guys hadn’t been going through your breakup—”

  “It has nothing to do with that. We weren’t breaking up! We would’ve been fine!” I growl, I don’t have the energy to yell.

  Jenny looks at me for a moment, her blue eyes slowly studying me, and I have to close my eyes because the gesture is so similar to Ace, that I can’t watch.

  “I think she’s questioning everything, Max. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. It was just bad timing,” she says quietly. “She just needs some time, and then I’m sure she’ll—”

  “What, Jenny?” I yell, feeling a new wave of anger uncurling in my gut. “You’re sure she’ll what? She doesn’t want any of us.”

  The sympathetic look she gives me betrays the secret I see she’s working to keep.

  “She’s called? She fucking called you?” Of course she did. She was their drug of choice too. That’s why they’re still able to function and aren’t holed up or on their way across the damn country. She isn’t running from them, she’s running from me.

  “Did she read the letter from your dad?” My mind’s reeling. It feels like I’m free falling down a steep cliff and my mind’s desperately searching for the tiniest ledge to grasp onto.

  “I don’t know. I think so,” Jenny answers with a shrug. “We were all reading them.”

  That last sentence sends me plummeting to the bottom. I burry my face in my comforter and drown out everything else she tries to say.

  “Dude, you’ve got to get up.” Jameson sighs as I pull the pillow back over my head. I don’t even know what day it is anymore. I don’t care.

  What adds salt to my wounds is the fact that the world keeps turning. People continue waking up and going about their day. The sun rises and sets. I hear kids laugh and play, neighbors greet one another, and birds sing, and all the while I wonder how? How does the entire world appear to be surviving this nightmare of losing her?

  Hank comes to visit in June. I still haven’t heard from Ace, and yet I’m still staying at my mom’s. I can’t leave. I can’t go back to that house. I’d moved rooms shortly after she left, and now reside in the guest room on the main floor. It’s better this way. There aren’t any pictures of her in here or random memories, like the one of her sitting on my bean bag chair when I was sick last summer. I also don’t have to face the window that looks out onto hers.

  Hank knows that I know mom sent for him, hoping that he’d be able to “help” me. She of all people should know that having Hank around isn’t going to help me. He’s fucking married to the love of his life; he doesn’t have a fucking clue about the shit that I’m going through.

  Of all things, Hank wants to go camping. I’m sure he thinks that getting away will help. He doesn’t understand that moving rooms has helped me realize I could go to Antarctica, and things wouldn’t change; the distance isn’t going to make the pain any less.

  When we get camp set up, Hank opens a cooler and passes me a beer with a giant, shit-eating grin, like we’ve just overcome a huge hurdle. Deciding that I shouldn’t rain on his little douchebag tea party quite yet, I accept the beer with merely a grimace before taking a long swig. Before long, that single swig becomes a chug, and then a guzzle as I consume more alcohol than what three people probably should.

  I sit by the fire and close my eyes. My mind automatically reaches back into that locked and forbidden drawer to pull out the image of Ace, striving to recall the sound of her laugh, the feel of her touch. It brings me back to our camping trip last September, when Jameson announced that was what he wanted to do for his birthday.

  Neither of you girls seemed overly thrilled about the prospect of spending the night outdoors when Jameson announced he wanted to go camping for his birthday. Seriously, do you remember how heated some of those discussions between J and Kendall got? It really wasn’t fair—you girls could sell ice to Eskimos. The list of requirements you guys constructed made me think finding a place was going to be impossible for a while.

  I know you had suggested that Jameson, Landon, and I just go, and make it a guys’ weekend, but Jameson was set on having Kendall be there to celebrate his big day. By that point, I was pretty done with lying to myself, and knew I didn’t want to spend the weekend without you either. Both of you girls thought we’d give up and agree to do something else, or give in and just make it a guys’ trip. But I hunted and searched and found a place that seemed to accommodate all requests.

  I went out and bought camping necessities, like bug repellent, sun screen, extra batteries for flashlights, and camp food. When I got back, you were discussing what came first, the chicken or the egg with Jameson and Landon. Jameson was adamant that God created a chicken first. I remember having to wait forever for him to shut up so I could break the news.

  “Alright, babe, Friday after class we’re heading out into the wilderness.”

  You turned with a look of surprise across your face that made me smile. I was pretty sure based on warnings from your dad, you girls had never been tent camping.

  Friday, we loaded up the Jeep and Landon’s SUV and headed over to pick you girls up.

  “Wow, babe, I’m impressed!” I was. You only had a small duffel you were sifting through when I found you.

  “Don’t be too impressed.” You bent down and lifted another small bag from behind the bed.

  “You always impress me.” You always do. I should have told you that more, especially since it earned me a small grin like you were embarrassed.

  We’d picked up sleeping bags from my house a couple of weeks ago, along with a camp stove, flashlights, tents, tarps, and other camping gear that my brothers and I had acquired over the years. Not surprisingly, neither of you girls owned a sleeping bag. Between my two brothers and me, we had somehow accumulated eleven, so we were set.

  Do you remember Jameson hauling Kendall’s suitcase down the stairs? I never told you this, but Jameson had made multiple comments about not wanting to ever date a high maintenance chick while we were in Alaska. Although he had to have known your sister was in the higher percentile, I was worried she was going to dig a grave for herself on that trip.

  When we walked over to the Jeep and discovere
d that half of it was already filled, I didn’t care quite as much.

  “What in the hell is she thinking?” I quietly growled.

  “It’s alright, I can ride with Landon,” you said with a casual shrug. “He’ll probably enjoy the company anyway.” I had almost objected. I wanted to. As ridiculous as it was, I didn’t want to spend the few hours driving there apart, even though I’d have the next three days with you. Seeing the frustration on Jameson’s face stopped me. Reminding myself this was his birthday and that if the tables were turned, he would without a doubt reciprocate the favor, I shut my mouth and breathed a deep sigh before following you over to Landon’s rig.

  Only a few other occupied spaces filled the campground as we passed on the way to ours. Kendall sat in the back, looking over a brochure that the park ranger had given us regarding bear safety. Do you remember how freaked out she was all weekend? Seriously, she was about to lose her shit as she started to read it aloud.

  “Lie on your stomach with your arms and legs spread wide. This will help prevent bears from flipping you over to reveal your vital organs …” I remember looking up as she paused and catching sight of her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were alarmingly round and her mouth hung open in shock. “Are they kidding? I’m sleeping in the car.”

  “Babe, it’ll be fine. Bears don’t hunt humans. We won’t see any animals except for some birds and shit like that.” Jameson glanced at me to reaffirm the message, but frankly I sort of enjoyed watching her squirm a little.

  My eyes moved up in my mirror, and for the hundredth time on that drive, I saw you. You were sitting in the passenger seat with your feet bare, propped up on the dashboard, your head lying against the head rest, laughing at something Landon had said.

  “Whoa, whoa! You passed it. One-o-seven is back there.” Kendall motioned to the back window with her thumb. “Distracted much?”