Little Do We Know

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Little Do We Know Page 9

by Tamara Ireland Stone


  Alyssa gripped my arm. “This is even better!” she whispered.

  It wasn’t better. It wasn’t better at all.

  “You ready?” he asked as he walked past us, down the aisle, and out the back doors that separated the sanctuary from the foyer.

  As we followed him up the steps that led to the balcony, Alyssa asked, “So, what’s Beth doing tonight?” She looked over her shoulder and shot me a grin.

  “She’s going out with her friends,” Aaron said as he reached the landing and turned toward the sound booth. Alyssa and I followed him.

  “So, you two are pretty serious?” Alyssa asked.

  “I guess.”

  “What does that mean, you guess?”

  Aaron worked the dead bolt, jiggling the key in the slot a few times and leaning into the door until everything lined up and it unlatched with a thunk. “Well, we’ve been together for six years and we’re talking about getting engaged this summer.”

  Alyssa looked at me, and then back at him. “You’re talking about getting engaged?”

  He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and flipped the light on. “Sure. It’s time. We’ve been together since our sophomore year of high school. Our families have been friends all our lives, so…” He trailed off as he gestured to the mini fridge. I knew what he meant.

  Aaron kept walking, heading straight for the computer, but I stopped and grabbed three sodas from the fridge. I handed Alyssa a Sprite and took one for myself, and then grabbed a Coke for Aaron. I moved quickly. I wanted to get to the open stool before Alyssa could claim it.

  “Here.” I handed him the can.

  “Thanks.” He smiled.

  Alyssa didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t have a seat. All her attention was focused on the mixing board. She had her whole body bent over it, sliding controllers, and messing with dials. “What do these stickers mean?” she asked, pointing at four colored dots that seemed to correspond with a set of controls.

  “Those are for SonRise.” He pointed at the blue dot. “That’s you, Alyssa.”

  “Aww, how did you know blue was my favorite color?” She popped her hip as she said it.

  I could tell by the way Aaron looked away that she was making him uncomfortable, but Alyssa didn’t seem to clue in. He ignored her and said, “Jack is green, Logan is orange, and Hannah’s red.”

  “Why am I red?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t give it much thought.” He looked away from the monitor. “But you’re definitely red.”

  I laughed self-consciously. “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, laughing along as he propped his leg against one of the rungs. “When I’m mixing your music together, your voice is always the loudest. And I don’t mean that in a bad way, it just the…most dominant. I turn it down and turn up the others up to blend in with you.”

  I had no idea what to say to that. If anyone was red, it was Alyssa. She was the hot one, the fiery one, the daring one, the fun one. Like Emory. I was the blue one. I’d always been the blue one. The calm, the ocean, the sky, the color of stillness. I was the even-keeled one, the voice of reason, the yin to their yang. The blue one, no question.

  When Aaron turned back to the monitor, Alyssa raised her eyebrows and shot me a well-check-you-out look. I played it up, giving her a cocky smirk.

  “Okay, back to work.” He tapped his finger against the monitor. “We’re close. All we need to do now is get the whole thing down to one minute—a minute thirty, tops—and it’s just short of two minutes long. So, we’re looking for about thirty seconds to cut.”

  He slid me my notebook and a pen, and then he stood and gave his stool to Alyssa. “Hannah, you navigate. Do what we did yesterday, only this time, instead of flagging the good stuff, flag the parts that seem unnecessary. Extra words. Guttural pauses, like ums and likes. Anything that slows things down. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said as I pressed PLAY. I kept my finger on the mouse, ready to pause and rewind.

  “I’m going to finish editing the background music.” He put his headphones on and moved over to the mixing board.

  Alyssa and I watched the screen. The video began with that same aerial view of the campus, panning slowly, then zooming in on the empty picnic table in the Grove.

  She was with me for the first twenty minutes or so, and then I could tell she was getting bored. She kept letting out loud sighs, swiveling around on the stool, and stopping to check her phone. When I got to the end of the recording, I leaned in close to her and whispered, “I’m done. Want to tell Aaron?”

  She looked at me, wide-eyed and nodding. She tapped him on his shoulder, and he took his headphones off and draped them around the back of his neck. “We’re ready for you,” she said. She stood up so he could take her stool.

  Neither one of us spoke while Aaron methodically worked through the cuts I’d recommended. He showed us how to zoom in to the audio and clip it so it wouldn’t sound choppy, and then how to smooth it back together. He played it from the beginning. Kevin sounded articulate and totally fluid; you couldn’t even tell where Aaron had spliced the video.

  When he was done, the whole video clocked in at one minute, thirty seconds exactly. Aaron pressed PLAY and the music swelled as the campus came into view.

  I peered over my shoulder. Alyssa was standing behind us with her hands on her hips, eyes glued to the monitor. As we watched, I heard her suck in a breath.

  The second it ended, she said. “Whoa. Okay, you guys. That. Was. Amazing.” She shoved her arm between Aaron and me. “See. Legit goose bumps.”

  I had goose bumps up and down my arms, too.

  “It’s perfect.” I smiled at Aaron.

  He smiled back.

  I must have been caught up in the moment, because suddenly, I reached over and rested my hand on Aaron’s leg, like I’d known him for years.

  As soon as I realized what I’d done, I jerked my hand away. My jaw fell open. I started to say, “I’m sorry,” but nothing came out.

  And then I panicked. I looked at Alyssa, but she had already turned away, reaching inside the mini fridge for another Sprite. As she walked back toward us, she popped the top and took a big sip. “Seriously. It’s so good.” She patted Aaron’s shoulder. “Pastor J’s gonna give you a fat raise for that one.”

  My heart was racing and my hands were trembling. I could feel sweat beading up on my forehead.

  Aaron seemed completely unfazed. “It still needs a few adjustments. A couple of those transitions were clunky, but it’s getting close.”

  Alyssa set her soda on the desk and brushed her hands together. “This calls for pizza, don’t you think? Or a late movie?” She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “Come on, it’s only nine thirty. Let’s get out of here.”

  “You go ahead,” he said to her. And then he looked at me and said, “It’s okay. I promise.” I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about our early exit.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. I wasn’t talking about that, either.

  “Positive.” He pressed his palms together, like he was begging me to believe him. “I’m going to finish up here. I need to get this to your dad tonight.” He pointed at the door with his chin. “I’ll send you the final in a few hours.”

  “Okay,” I said. I gathered my stuff and left the sound booth in a daze.

  Alyssa and I walked through the balcony, past the pews. Neither one of us said a word as we stepped down the narrow staircase, across the atrium, and through the double doors. Outside, it was dark and cold. The wind felt good on my cheeks.

  “Okay, what was that?” Alyssa asked once we were a safe distance from the sanctuary.

  My heart started racing again. She’d noticed.

  I played dumb anyway. “What was what?”

  She pressed the button on the key fob and her car doors unlocked. “You know what I mean! With Aaron!” We both climbed inside and buckled up, and then she shot me a look I couldn’
t read.

  “What about him?”

  She turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the parking space. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you didn’t catch that! Didn’t you hear what he said about Beth?”

  My breath left my body like air from a popped balloon, all at once.

  “‘We’re talking about getting engaged’?” she said. “‘Our parents are friends. I’ve known her all my life.’ He made it sound like an arranged marriage or something.”

  “Yeah, that was weird.” I tucked my hands under my legs, trying to get them to settle down.

  “Weird, but good-weird!” She slapped her hand on the steering wheel. “He’s not going back to Houston until June, so that gives me a little over two months.” She shot me a cocky grin. “I’m pulling out all the stops now, and I have you to thank.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You let me crash your date,” she said. She patted my leg. “I swear, you’ve always been the best wingwoman.”

  That night, I sat in bed with my laptop open in front of me, toggling between ten different windows I’d opened after I’d typed the word afterlife into a Google search engine an hour earlier.

  I’d read a few short pieces from familiar newspapers and scanned interviews with some of the world’s leading scientists, doctors, and spiritual leaders. I’d opened a bunch of in-depth articles specific to religious beliefs, and I’d even found an at-a-glance chart that showed how each faith viewed the afterlife. I was about to click on another link, when I heard a noise outside.

  I tossed my laptop onto my comforter and climbed out from under the covers. I pulled my curtain to one side.

  Emory must have just shut her window, because she was still standing there, looking out, like she was waiting for someone.

  It was Friday. It was almost midnight. That meant Luke would be hiding in the rosebushes next to my house any minute now.

  My phone vibrated on my nightstand and I jumped. I picked it up and read the screen.

  Aaron: Look what we did…

  We. Again.

  I clicked on the attachment and pressed PLAY. The adjustments he’d made were minor, but important. He’d moved some pictures in the montage around so they synched with the background music even better, and he’d shortened a few of the clips so the whole thing moved a little faster. I’d loved it back in the sound booth earlier, but I loved this one even more.

  I texted him back. It’s more amazing! Dad’s going to love it.

  Thanks, he replied. I hope so.

  I didn’t know what to say next. All I could think about was the way I put my hand on his leg. Part of me felt like I should explain, but I didn’t know how to, so I tried to explain Alyssa’s actions instead.

  Sorry about the way Alyssa put you on the spot about Beth, I typed. That was kind of uncool.

  There was a long pause. Then the three dots flashed on the screen, and I knew he was replying.

  Aaron: It’s okay.

  Aaron: I didn’t mean to shut her down.

  Aaron: It’s just that Beth and I are a complicated story.

  I wanted to hear it. I wanted to keep texting with him. I thought about Alyssa and felt guilty. And then I thought about his girlfriend and felt even guiltier. But I texted him back anyway.

  Hannah: I’m not at all sleepy…

  Aaron:

  Those three dots showed up on the screen again.

  Aaron: She wants to get married.

  Aaron: We were going to get engaged over Christmas, but then I took this job, so we decided to hold off

  Hannah: What about you? Do you want to get married?

  My whole body felt buzzy and caffeinated. I paced back and forth as I typed. And then I went back to the window and looked down, half expecting to see Luke there. But it was quiet outside.

  Aaron: Eventually. Sure. We’ve been together since tenth grade.

  He’d said that in the sound booth, too, but I didn’t understand why that was so important.

  I decided to get some water. I opened my door as quietly as I could. The house was dark and silent, so I tiptoed into the hall, typing as I walked. I was feeling red.

  Hannah: That doesn’t answer my question.

  In the kitchen, I took a glass out of the cabinet, filled it with water from the sink, and downed it in two gulps. I rested the phone on the counter and watched the screen. My heart started racing as I waited for those three dots to appear again.

  I was refilling my glass when his next text appeared.

  Aaron: Truth?

  Hannah: Yes, please.

  I didn’t move. I kept my gaze fixed on my phone. Aaron answered almost immediately.

  Aaron: No.

  Aaron: I’m nowhere near ready.

  Aaron: I’m not sure why she thinks she is, or that we are.

  I waited to see if he had more to say. After a few moments of silence on his end, I typed back.

  Hannah: You should tell her that.

  Aaron: I know…I’ve tried…

  Hannah: But you love her?

  He didn’t reply for a long time.

  Aaron: Yeah, I do.

  Aaron: But…

  Hannah: ???

  Aaron: Things are changing, I guess.

  I typed, Like what? but before I had a chance to hit SEND, he started replying again.

  Aaron: I have no idea why I’m telling you all this, btw.

  Aaron: Totally inappropriate

  Hannah: No it’s not.

  Aaron: I shouldn’t be telling my student/boss’s daughter about my relationship problems.

  Aaron: I’m blaming my hermit/friendless status.

  Hannah:

  Hannah: You can talk to me.

  Aaron: Thanks.

  Aaron: Don’t mention it to your dad though, okay?

  Hannah: Why would I tell my dad?

  Aaron: IDK…you two are close.

  We used to be. We weren’t so much anymore. It had been months since I confided in him, and given our current situation, I didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

  Hannah: I don’t tell him everything.

  I flipped around and looked at the clock on the microwave: 12:03. I was about to type a reply, when something outside the window caught my eye: a red car drove straight through the intersection without stopping at the sign. It rolled slowly toward my house, until it stopped with a jerk when it hit the curb.

  I leaned over the kitchen sink, craning my neck, trying to get a better view.

  Red Jetta. Late arrival, but it was Luke’s car. No question.

  I watched and waited, ready to duck down low as soon as he cut the engine and stepped out, but nothing happened. His headlights were still on, steam rising from the tailpipe. And I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like his head was resting on the steering wheel.

  My phone vibrated, but I didn’t pick it up. I was too busy watching Luke, waiting for him to move. I checked the time on the microwave: 12:07.

  Aaron: Meet in the sound booth after services?

  I reached for my phone again and typed a reply to Aaron.

  Hannah: Something’s happening outside.

  Aaron: You okay?

  Hannah: Yeah…it’s weird.

  Hannah: My neighbor’s boyfriend sneaks into her room at night and he always parks in front of my kitchen window.

  It seemed odd to call Emory “my neighbor,” but it was easier than going into the specifics.

  Hannah: He pulled up and stopped the car, but he’s not getting out.

  Hannah: I can see him.

  Hannah: His head is on the steering wheel.

  Hannah: I think something’s wrong with him.

  I opened the window and listened for sound. There was nothing.

  Hannah: Hold on.

  Leaving the phone on the counter, I ran to my room and peeled the curtain to one side, expecting to see Emory standing in the open window, waiting for Luke like she always did. But her shade was lowered and that faint bit of light still illuminated
the edges.

  I grabbed my sweatshirt off the back of my desk chair, pulling it over my head as I returned to the kitchen window.

  Luke’s car was still there. The lights were still on. The engine was still running. And he still hadn’t moved. The clock on the microwave read 12:13. Ten minutes had passed since his car rolled to a stop. My phone chirped.

  Aaron: What’s going on?

  Hannah: BRB.

  Without even thinking, I opened the front door and stepped outside. The late night air stung my throat.

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets and quickened my steps, scanning the neighborhood to be sure I was alone. Then I stepped onto the grass. The blades tickled my feet and the dew seeped in between my toes as I cupped my hands to my face and peered into the passenger window.

  Luke’s eyes were closed, his head was resting against the driver’s-side window, and his arms hung limp at his sides.

  I knocked on the glass. “Luke!” I whisper-yelled.

  He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t even flinch.

  “Luke!” I yelled louder. I knocked harder.

  Nothing.

  Emory.

  I reached for my phone to text her, but then realized it was still sitting on the counter. I knocked on the window again, but he still didn’t budge, so I opened the door as slowly as I could, reaching inside to balance his weight and push him back into the seat as I did.

  “Luke. Wake up.” I shook him. “Luke. You have to wake up.”

  I reached in front of him, cut the engine, and turned the headlights off. When I breathed in, I gagged. The car reeked with this horrible, sour smell, and I looked down on the passenger seat. There was puke. Everywhere. When I looked back at Luke, I realized it was all over one side of his jacket, too.

  He didn’t look hurt. No cuts. No bruises. I crouched down, and that’s when I noticed something. His jacket had fallen open, and his T-shirt was raised up on his left side. I slowly lifted it higher.

  His skin was swollen under his rib cage, and his whole side was dark purple, almost black. I touched it lightly, but he didn’t react at all. And then I brought my fingertip to his neck and felt for a pulse. I couldn’t find one.

  I came in close to his ear. “Luke. It’s Hannah. I need you to listen to me, okay?” I watched his eyes for movement, but saw nothing. “I’m going to get help. I’ll be right back.”

 

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