Shadows of a Dream

by Nicole Disney

  “What happened?” It feels like a ridiculous question at a ridiculous time. The art show went bad. Just like the last one. How does this happen? They’re so beautiful. I know it’s not just that I love her. They are incredible.

  She tries to lunge away from me again. She gets her hands on a painting she hasn’t even finished yet. Her strength surprises me. I’m holding back a little in an effort not to hurt her, but I’m trying hard, and though hindered, she’s still doing exactly what she wants to do.

  She tries to smash it into the wall. I tighten my arms around her more. She can’t get the leverage she needs so she just throws it. I pull her to me as hard as I can, crushing her with love. She fights it, rigid and furious in my embrace. “Let me go!”

  But then, finally, she breaks. She goes limp and shakes with tears and holds me. She squeezes me and I squeeze back, wanting to somehow absorb this pain for her, pull it right out of her skin and feel it for her. She cries like that for a long time. I catch my breath with relief.

  I want to ask what happened again, but I fight it. She keeps muttering little clues I’m trying to piece together. “Someone might like it,” imitating someone. “Just give it up now.” “Trash.” I finally recognize the nasally impersonation. Her mom.

  I hold her while she relives it. “Hey,” I call for her attention, soft in her ear. “You’re amazing. It’s going to be okay. They’ll see.”

  She pulls her face away from my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m okay.” She exhales like she’s forgotten to breathe all this time. “I’ll be fine. I just need a drink.” I reluctantly let her pull out of my hold. She gets a drink, but she heads for the drawer too. She takes out the foil and some crystal. I want to suggest we only drink tonight, but I figure now isn’t the best time to try that.

  “I’m being dramatic,” she says. I look around the destroyed room. “This’ll fix me up,” she adds. I watch her take a long hit, closing her eyes while she holds it in. She offers it to me, but I pass.

  Her face goes blank as she slumps on the bed, too high to stand. I let her go comatose and start picking up the paintings that survived. I hang a few of them back up.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks abruptly. I glance over at her passingly but have to shoot back for a double take. Something in her eyes makes me stand up straight, pulse throbbing in my ear. She’s sitting facing me. She looks evil. My angel looks demonic, her pupils blacker than black and expanding to the rims.

  “I love you,” I say cautiously. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Put that fucking painting back on the ground.” She’s never spoken to me like this before. I try to ignore it.

  “Your art is beautiful. Just because—”

  “Put it on the ground.”

  “You can’t do this to yourself,” I say.

  “And what makes you think you know anything about art?”

  “I know it takes me somewhere. I know I could escape in it forever. And I know there are other people out there who will see it too. You’ll come out of this, and when you do you’ll want these.”

  “You’re just a girl from an alley!”

  “Jaselle.” I put a steel wall between me and what she said, hoping I can build it before she continues. “Don’t,” I plead.

  “Who the fuck cares about your opinion? You aren’t a critic. You aren’t educated. You aren’t an artist. You don’t know anything. You’re ignorant. No one cares what you think.”

  “Art is for everyone. It doesn’t matter who you are. That’s the beauty of art. How can you not know that?”

  “No, you’re wrong again, Rainn. There are rules. There are politics just like any other business. There’s a proper way!”

  “And what you do isn’t proper?”

  “No one wants what I do. They don’t understand it.”

  “Then do it the proper way, I guess.”

  “That’s what you think?” she raises her voice in a fury.

  “I don’t know what you want from me! I tell you it’s beautiful and I’m an ignorant piece of shit. I tell you to change it and I’m an asshole.”

  “I’ve painted things people can’t even comprehend yet! I’ve shown the truth of this cold world, and they don’t want to see it because it shows them their ugly faces! I am the greatest artist alive. They’re afraid of me.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes, because I’ll expose them. It’s not my paintings they don’t like, it’s themselves. My art is a reflection. You can’t blame the mirror for the world! I am the jester.”

  I feel like I should say something, but I don’t want to get her started on bashing me again, so I figure I’ll just let this jester thing keep going. And it does.

  “They think I’m the joke, but I’m the only one that sees them. I see right through you all. I see through you, Rainn.”

  “You’re not acting like yourself,” I say, afraid of where this is going, just wanting it to stop. I’m afraid of the way she’s looking at me. I can’t withstand her hate-filled eyes.

  “You want me to tell you what your soul looks like?”

  “Jaselle, stop it. You’re freaking me out.”

  “Get out.”

  I tense up, shocked, confused. There has to be a way to turn this momentum around. “Look, I’m sorry you had a bad night. You know you’re an amazing painter. I know you’re amazing. You’ll make it. You just have to keep trying. You know how many times I’ve heard my band sucks? Sometimes you just have to keep going anyway.”

  “And where has that gotten you, Rainn? Where are you now?”

  “Stop.”

  “Maybe you do suck. Ever think of that?”

  “Jaselle.”

  “Have you?”

  “I think about it every day!”

  “And?”

  “And I keep going,” I say.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then where is your band?”

  “What?” I stop, puzzled.

  “When was the last show you did with them?” she asks. I stutter, surprised to find it far away, not at my fingertips where I thought it was. She starts laughing. Her eyes are cold. What’s happening? What’s happening?

  “Oh, Rainn. You have no idea who you are, do you? Or who you aren’t. I can see you.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “Like what?” She shoots to her feet and comes close to my face like she wants to fight or something.

  “Jaselle, just stop it. Just stop! I know you’re upset, but—”

  “Fuck you! Don’t act like you know. I told you to get out, didn’t I? Get out!”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “What, I don’t look like I’m serious?” She looks completely serious. She shoves me, in a methodical motion I don’t see coming. It jolts me. A ripple of shock runs through each of my muscles. She raises her arms to do it again. I catch each of her wrists and hold her back. She tries to pull away, yanking me off balance. I stomp down on broken glass from her lamp. I feel the shards dig into my bare feet as we wrestle for position.

  I hear her bedroom door open. I look over for just an instant, and she pushes me hard. I fall backward and smack my head on her closet door.

  “Hey, hey, what’s going on in here?” Noah yells. I leap back to my feet and grab my jacket. Fuck the shoes. I push past Noah without even looking at Jaselle. I hear Noah asking what happened again as I cross the living room. I slam their front door as hard as I can.

  Chapter Eleven

  I walk into the street, ignoring the bloody footprints I’m leaving behind me. I’m indifferent to the fact that I’m shoeless and how monumentally detrimental that is now that it’s back to the alley.

  No, stop. She was upset, that’s all. She didn’t mean it. You’ll be lying beside her again in no time. Is it crazy for that to be my first thought? To even want that? I choose a wall and slide down.

  Worthless street girl, why do you cry? You should have known. You should have kno
wn such love was not for you.

  Stop it. I can’t manage to call Jaselle a bitch, even in my brain. I want to. I want to so bad. Hate her. It’s so much easier to hate her. But I can’t. I pull my left foot over my right leg and go to work prying out a sizeable shard of glass. I’m bleeding everywhere, more than I thought.

  I get the major pieces out and stand up, carefully testing my weight on the wounds. The concrete tugs the cuts apart. There are still a lot of little pieces in there, but I can’t find the determination to pull them all out.

  I don’t notice where I’m walking. I just walk. I end up at the guys’ apartment. I knock lightly, half hoping everyone’s asleep so I can drag my lonely, pathetic ass back to the alley, justified in feeling useless to the world. That doesn’t happen. I hear someone messing with the chain.

  The door cracks open, Jayden’s face filling the space. He swings it open in a hurry. “Hey,” he says in an excited whisper.

  “Hey.” Why am I here? He gestures for me to come in. He guides me to the living room. Shiloh and Alex are sleeping in the bedroom. Jayden sleeps in the living room because he’s always awake, so he’s close to the instruments where he can pass the extra hours. And he’d prefer to take the living room and be alone than share a room with the guys, better for banging chicks.

  Actually, now that I’ve come to my senses I can’t believe there’s not a girl here right now. “You’re alone?”

  He laughs. “Yeah, I’m alone sometimes.” He finally takes in my appearance. “Are you okay?” I nod. “Dude, you’re bleeding all over the carpet. What the fuck?”

  “Sorry.” I sit on the couch and pick my feet up.

  “I didn’t mean what the fuck, you’re messing up the floor. I meant what the fuck, are you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m fine.” I choke up and have to stop. His eyes are deep and warm, brown and soft. He puts my foot in his lap and looks.

  “Oh my God, do you have any clue how screwed up you are?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Come on.” Before I can stop him, he picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. He turns on the light and flips the lid to the toilet down with his foot, then sets me on it. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, rolls his pants up, and turns the water on.

  “Oh no,” I say. “No, no, no. You don’t have to do this.”

  “Quit it.” He holds his hand under the faucet until he likes the temperature. Then he pulls my foot under the running water. A flaming flash of pain overwhelms me, and I jerk my foot back.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Yeah, just surprised me. I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, you’re messed up. Okay, come on now.” He pulls my foot back. I don’t even realize I’m resisting until he starts laughing. “Come on, you turning into a baby on me?”

  That does the trick. I let him pull my foot. After the first couple of seconds it isn’t as bad. It still hurts, but I ignore it. I watch the red water disappear down the drain. Once the caked blood is washed away, he pulls my foot into his lap again and starts working on the remaining pieces of glass.

  “So,” he says. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  I take a deep sigh. “We got in a fight.”

  “And she took a razor blade to your foot?”

  “No.” I laugh. “No. She, uh, well, she was upset, and we were arguing. I guess I said some things that—”

  “Rainn,” Jayden interrupts. “You don’t have to protect her from me. If you decide to forgive her, I’m not going to judge you. Just tell me the way it is.”

  My eyes water. I try to push it away, but I can’t. They spill over. He stops working on my foot for a second and hugs me. I tell him what happened, every detail. I take him on his word and stop sugar coating. I hadn’t realized that’s what I was doing until he said so, but he’s right. I don’t want him to hate her. I don’t want him to have ammo against her. But I believe him, and I tell him how it happened.

  “I knew you guys were doing something,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Meth? Seriously, Rainn? What are you doing?”

  I’m surprised that’s what he chooses to focus on, but then again, I shouldn’t be. Meth. What am I thinking? “I know. I’m stopping.”

  “And what about her? You’re going to stop and she’s going to keep doing it? You know how hard that’s going to be?”

  “I can stop. I don’t even like it that much. I know that sounds like a lie, but really.”

  “So, you’ll be sober and she’ll be high? And you think that’s going to work?”

  “She’ll stop too. She was only using it to get ready for her art show.” I ignore the look he gives me.

  “Look—” His phone cuts him off, blaring his ring tone way too loud for the silent house. He looks down at the caller ID. “That was fast.”

  “One of your girls?”

  “No, yours.” He shows me the front screen that reads “Jaselle.” I’m impressed it doesn’t say something derogatory. Where’d he get her number anyway? “Are you here?” he asks me. Oh, right, I called him from her phone.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say. He flips the phone open. “Wait, no,” I hiss. He nods cooperatively.

  “Hello?” I can hear the sound of her voice through the speaker but can’t make out any words. “No, I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you.” He pushes the speakerphone button.

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she says.

  Jayden doesn’t miss a beat continuing the charade for me. I think he sounds pretty convincing, actually. “Why would I tell you she isn’t here if she was? I’d love nothing more than to rub it in your face that she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “I know you hate me, Jayden. I don’t know why, other than you’re in love with Rainn, but she’s with me, and I’m not letting her go anytime soon.”

  “Apparently she’s not with you,” Jayden sneers. This is escalating in a direction that’s making me nervous. Even though Jayden knows I’m listening, and I think Jaselle is pretty confident I am as well, I feel like I’m hearing something I’m not supposed to. She thinks Jayden is in love with me?

  “I love her, Jayden. I really do,” she says. “I’m not trying to take her from you guys. I just want to take care of her.”

  “Sounds like you’re doing a stellar job.” I wave my hands at him, telling him to take it easy.

  “She wants us to get along,” Jaselle says.

  “Rainn is my best friend,” Jayden says. I can’t help but smile. “If you want to be with her I come with that.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Some day you have to acknowledge that goes both ways. If you want to be in her life, I come with that too.”

  “I’m surprised you’re so confident considering you don’t know where she is right now,” Jayden says.

  “I know where she is.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Look, just tell her I called, okay? Tell her I’m sorry and I love her, and whenever she wants to come back, I want her back.” Jayden stiffens while I weaken.

  “I told you she isn’t here.”

  “Tell her I called at least. Please.” He flips the phone shut. We just sit there for a second. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking.

  “You’re going back,” he finally says.

  I don’t bother wasting both our time acting like I’m thinking about it. I want to be thinking about it. I force myself to acknowledge this is a giant red flag, that this wasn’t acceptable. I make myself picture life without her, but it all feels like a formality. I know I’m going back. I can’t stand for this to end. “Yes.”

  “Can I say something?”

  “Anything,” I say, but I brace myself.

  “I know you won’t listen, but I feel like I have to tell you. This has bad news written all over it. You’ve changed. I’m sure you think you haven’t, but you have. And I know she’s sorry now, and she probably means it, but once they get physical they don’t stop. It just get
s worse. You know that.”

  He’s referring to Isaiah. I hate it when he does that, but I guess he of all people has a right to. Comparing Jaselle to Isaiah is something I just can’t do though.

  “She didn’t hit me or anything.” I feel absurd and pathetic making the argument, but it’s true. She didn’t hit me. And had there not been glass on the floor I wouldn’t even be hurt right now. It’s different. It’s complicated. There’s nothing I can say that doesn’t sound like every girl who’s ever tried to justify this, but it is different.

  “Yeah, yeah, bounced right off your skull like I thought it would.”

  “I love her.” Is that a case? I want to leave.

  He just nods. “I know.”

  “I’m going back.”

  “Tonight?” He doesn’t sound surprised, just, I don’t know, sad? I nod and take my feet out of his tub. I pull my pant legs back down and carefully stand up. The pain is more than I remembered. The numbness of depression is wearing off. I straighten up and look at Jayden. I can’t stand his disappointment. I reach out and rustle his hair.

  “Don’t worry,” I say.

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that. I walk all the time.”

  “Shut up, Rainn. I’m driving you. You aren’t walking your bloody ass bare feet all the way back to her.” I smile and follow him to his truck. When we pull up to Jaselle’s, he turns the truck off. I figure that means we’re going to have a little chat before he leaves me here. I just sit and wait.

  “You know you can always call me,” he says.

  “I know.”

  “I’m glad you came to me tonight, but you didn’t have to murder your feet first. I would have come and got you.” I just look at him, not sure how to respond. “I’ll always come get you.” I smile and squeeze his arm.

  “Thanks, Jay.”

  “All right, go on.”

  I jump out and thank him for the ride.

  Jaselle and I just stare at each other in the doorframe for a minute. I can see the emotions rolling over her so clear she doesn’t have to say a word. She’s surprised I came back tonight. The relief is making its way through her tight muscles. Her stomach dropped when she realized what she’d done. She abruptly reaches out for me, wrapping her arms around my neck.