Little Do We Know

by Tamara Ireland Stone

  I stumbled backward. I tried to find my footing, but my body had too much momentum. I was off-balance. I put out my hands to try to break my fall, but it didn’t help. And when I landed, I landed hard, right on the corner of the coffee table.

  I tried to stand, but my left leg was throbbing, and as soon as I put pressure on it, it gave out. I was back on the floor and within seconds, David was crouched down next to me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He was right in my face, wrapping his hand around my arm to help me stand, muttering more apologies.

  I slapped his arm away. I didn’t want him anywhere near me, sorry or not.

  Suddenly, I looked up and saw Pastor J hovering behind him. “Don’t touch her,” he said.

  David turned around, shocked to hear the sound of another voice in the room, and scrambled to his feet. I scooted backward, away from him and the coffee table and everyone else, until I felt the wall. I used it to help me stand.

  David looked stunned as he scanned the room, taking all of us in. Mrs. J was now next to my mom with a protective arm around her shoulder. Pastor J was inches away from him, his hands balled into fists and his jaw tight, like he was ready for whatever came next. Luke was next to me, helping me balance. And Hannah was standing in the entryway, holding her phone to her ear and rattling off my home address to what was clearly a 911 operator.

  My mom pointed toward the door. “Right now, it’s a restraining order, but only because that’s what Emory wants. But if you’re still here when the police arrive, I’ll press charges. For everything.”

  He looked at my mom. At first, I thought he was going to walk toward her. Mrs. J must have thought the same thing, because she stepped right in front of her and threw her arms out to her sides, like he’d have to get through her first.

  He turned and walked toward Hannah instead, and she moved to one side and let him pass. I heard the door open and close again. We were all silent as we listened to his car start with a hum, and then drive away.

  Mom was next to me in a matter of seconds. She wrapped her arms around me, telling me she loved me and promising me I’d never see David again.

  “You were a badass,” I said as I pulled away. I could tell by the way she was smiling that this wasn’t like the time with Dad. This time, she was going to be okay.

  “So were you,” she said as she kissed my forehead.

  I’d managed to avoid Aaron for an entire week. It wasn’t hard. Now that SonRise practices were over, I didn’t have any reason to go to the sanctuary outside Monday Chapel. And as much as I’d missed sneaking up to the sound booth after school, I’d found a place all my own to spend my time while I waited for Dad: in the Grove, at the table nestled in the trees, where I could study or meditate or just be. I liked it there. It made me feel especially alone, in a good way.

  On Friday, Alyssa had to make up a test after school, but she promised to drive me home afterward. I was sitting at a picnic table, working on an essay for English class, when I looked up and found Aaron standing there.

  “Hi,” he said. He looked cute. He was wearing jeans, flip-flops, and a plain white T-shirt. He had his baseball cap on as usual. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  I knew I couldn’t avoid this discussion forever. “Sure,” I said, tipping my chin toward the spot across from me. He sat.

  I’d expected to be mad when I saw him again, but I wasn’t. Not anymore.

  “Your dad told me I could find you here. I know you’re studying, and I don’t want to bother you or anything.” He shifted nervously. “I just wanted to tell you something. Actually, a few things.”

  I closed my notebook and set my pen down.

  “First, I’m sorry.”

  I wasn’t sure why he was saying it. He’d already apologized to me. And to Luke.

  “There’s no reason to apologize again.”

  He shook his head. “Not for that. For…the rest of it. For kissing you. For kissing you while I was with Beth. I shouldn’t have done that. And…” He tipped his head back, eyes fixed on the sky, like it pained him to look at me. “Because you’re a student. And that was just so stupid of me.”

  “I kissed you first,” I said plainly.

  “Maybe.” He rested his elbow on the table and covered his face with his hand. “But still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t regret any of it, but I had a feeling he did, so I kept that part to myself. “It’s okay.”

  He leaned in closer, like he was telling me a secret. “I also wanted to tell you that I broke up with Beth this week.”

  I hadn’t expected that. “You did?”

  “I couldn’t stay with her once I figured out…” He paused, trying to decide how to finish his sentence. “That she wasn’t what I was looking for.”

  I think he expected me to feel bad for him, but I didn’t. I felt bad for her. “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Beth?” he asked. When I nodded, he said, “Yeah. It was harder on both of us than I expected it to be, but…she’s tough. She’ll be okay.”

  He didn’t seem to know what to say after that. He looked around at the trees, at the ground, at the table. He finally looked at me. “I also just wanted to tell you that…I really liked talking to you, Hannah. And I…” He trailed off and started tapping his fingers on the table nervously. I didn’t make him finish his sentence.

  “I liked talking to you, too.”

  “Good. So we can keep talking? As friends?” He smiled at me and held out his hand.

  I shook it as I smiled back. “Yeah. Friends.”

  Deep in my heart, I wanted to be more and it hurt my feelings that he didn’t want that, too. But my heart wasn’t in control anymore; my brain had a firm grip on the wheel.

  I stood and started gathering my things. “I’d better go. I told Alyssa that I’d meet her in the parking lot.”

  My instinct was to hug him, but that seemed weird given everything that had happened between us. And if I was being honest, I was a little afraid of what I’d do if I let myself get that close to him. My heart could have easily grabbed the wheel, shoved my brain to the backseat, and taken over.

  “Get out of that man cave of yours,” I said over my shoulder as I walked away. “Make some more friends. Like, ones who aren’t moving to the East Coast in a few months.”

  Alyssa was waiting by her car when I arrived.

  “Where have you been?” She bounced on her toes, and I could tell she was excited about something. “I’ve been dying here!”

  I checked the time on my phone. “Relax, I’m, like, two minutes late.”

  “Whatever!” She bounced in place again. “I have news!”

  How had she already heard that Aaron broke up with Beth? I kind of assumed he was telling me first, but apparently not.

  “Man, word travels fast around here,” I said.

  Alyssa shot me a look. “What are you talking about?”

  Maybe she hadn’t heard.

  “Nothing,” I said. “What’s your news?”

  She shook her shoulders back and forth. “Kevin Anderson just asked me to prom.”

  “He did? I didn’t even know you two knew each other.”

  “We don’t really. But I ran into him in the hall the other day, and I told him how much I loved what he had to say in his testimonial. He seemed to appreciate the compliment, and we got to talking, and…I guess I made an impression.”

  “Of course you did.”

  She laughed as she opened the car door. I got in next to her. She turned the key in the ignition, backed out of the parking space, and drove away, down the narrow road, lined with roses and lavender bushes.

  She cranked up the music and I rolled down the window. I stuck my head outside and closed my eyes, inhaling the scent of flowers and feeling the warm breeze on my face.

  I’d planned to tell her about Aaron and me on the way home. But under the circumstances, I’d changed my mind. I didn’t think she nee
ded to know.

  Maybe someday I’d tell her. For now, it seemed fitting that Aaron and I were the only ones at the school who knew what happened in that sound booth.

  Mom was asleep. I crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m home.”

  She was five days past the end of her scheduled breakdown, but I still spotted a few tissues on her comforter. And the TV was blaring, tuned to some cheesy romance channel. I lifted the remote and turned it off.

  “Mom,” I said, and she opened one eye. “Here, have some water.”

  She sat up. “Thanks.” She took a few sips and then set it on her nightstand. She settled back into her pillow. “How was the game?”

  “Good. We won.”

  She reached up and took the sleeve of my altered jersey-dress between her thumb and forefinger and studied my face. “Charlotte did a great job on your hair. You look beautiful.” Before I could say anything, she moved her hand to my knee. “Your leg still looks horrible.”

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Over the last week, the bruise had turned black, then purple, and finally yellowish green. I was hoping it would have faded away completely by now, so Mom and I could enjoy the fact that we had a restraining order in place and all traces of D-bag were gone from our lives. But the bruise lingered, a constant reminder that he still existed.

  “Hey,” I said. “Luke’s here. Is that okay?”

  Mom nodded. “Yeah. That’s okay.”

  It was part of our new pact. No more secrets. No more sneaking around.

  “He got word from Denver today. He’s going as planned.”

  “Oh, really? That’s great!” And then she saw the look on my face. “That’s great, right?”

  I forced a smile. “Yeah. Actually it is.”

  She rested her hand on my lower back. “You okay?”

  I was. And I wasn’t. It was like being hot and cold at the same time, and it didn’t make any sense. “What can I do? It’s the way it’s supposed to end.”

  “Love sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I sighed. “And no.”

  “Exactly.” She sounded impressed, like I’d said something wise beyond my years. She patted my hand. As I smiled down at her, I could tell she was fighting to keep her eyes open.

  I pulled the covers under her chin and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep. We’ll go to a movie tomorrow. And not a romance. I’m taking you to see something with zombies or pirates or total world destruction.”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said. Her eyes fell shut. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Mom.” I closed her bedroom door behind me and walked down the hallway to mine.

  Inside, Luke was sitting on the edge of my bed. He’d taken off his Foothill Falcons jacket and draped it over my chair.

  I turned the lock, crossed the room, and stepped in between his legs. “Hey, you.” I rested my forearms on his shoulders and twisted his curls around my fingers. I leaned in closer to kiss him, but something was off. He wasn’t kissing me back, not like he normally would have. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “This is weird. I can’t do it with your mom in the next room.”

  “She’s always in the next room.”

  “Yeah, but…now she knows I’m here.”

  “So?” I leaned down and kissed him again, and this time he let go. His mouth was warm, and his lips were soft, and for the millionth time, I thought about how much I loved kissing him. Now that everything was settling into a new normal, I decided that was the new plan: to spend the next one hundred and twenty-two days kissing as much as humanly possible.

  I hooked my thumbs under his T-shirt and started to lift it over his head, but he grabbed the hem and pulled it down again.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “She’s already asleep again, I promise.”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his forehead on my stomach. “It’s not that. I…I have to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay.” I let my fingertip skate over the back of his neck. “What’s up?”

  He scooted all the way onto my mattress and sat with his back pressed against the wall. I crawled up on the bed and joined him. And then the room got too quiet.

  Finally, he spoke. “I’ve been to see Hannah’s dad. Twice this week.”

  “You did?” I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. We’d spent the entire week together, often talking at length about other people he could go to for help, and he hadn’t mentioned Pastor J once. “I thought you were going to talk to a therapist?”

  Last Tuesday, during Calletti Spaghetti, he’d finally told his parents about his insomnia, and how he’d spent those hours he should have been sleeping watching YouTube videos and researching near-death experiences. His doctor referred him to someone he thought could help.

  “I am. My mom made an appointment for me next week. And I know you don’t completely understand this, but I need to talk to Pastor J, too. He helps me wrap my head around this whole thing. Talking to him makes me feel better about what happened.”

  I wanted to say I did understand, but I didn’t. Not completely.

  “Earlier this week, I asked Pastor J to send me all the emails he received about my video. I started answering them. They’re still coming in, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to reply to all of them, but it’s a start. I’m sleeping better. My appetite is back. And when I close my eyes, images in my head aren’t quite so vivid, you know?” He tapped his finger to his temple. “It’s not so noisy in there anymore.”

  I reached for his hand and interlaced his fingers with mine. He kept talking.

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for, Em. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure out what happened to me or if it matters. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again, but I know I need to keep talking about it, because it keeps me sane.”

  “That’s okay. Talk to him. Talk to a therapist, too. Talk to me. It’s all good, okay?” He didn’t reply, and I could tell there was more he needed to say. “What?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  He rocked his head back and forth. “I’ve decided to go away for the summer.”

  I sat up, twisting to face him. “Where?”

  “Guatemala. On the mission trip with Hannah’s mom.”

  I stared at him as his words sank in, but I had no clue how to respond. He’d caught me completely off guard.

  “They need someone to run the program full-time, and I said I would do it. I’ll be working with kids, just like you and Hannah did. And I’ll help rebuild homes, fix up libraries, and churches. I’ll be part of a community that needs me.”

  But I need you, I wanted to say.

  “I’ve thought about this a lot. I’ve talked to my parents. And I’ve decided I have to go. I don’t need to be at Denver until August twentieth, and in the meantime, I’ve got to do something to distract me from…everything.”

  He got quiet after that. For a moment, I thought he might ask me to come with him.

  If he had, I wasn’t sure how I would have answered. I wanted to spend my summer with Luke, but I didn’t want to spend it in a foreign country on a three-month mission trip. I wanted to drive along the coast in his Jetta, stopping to camp, hiking to hot springs, playing Skee-Ball, sleeping under the stars, and waking up with the sun. I no longer cared about the bugs. I wanted to spend my summer alone with Luke, like we’d planned.

  But he didn’t ask.

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll still have the rest of the year. Prom, graduation—”

  “But no road trip.” I glanced over at my bulletin board where I had pinned the Mentos wrapper with his hand-drawn map.

  That clock in my head started speeding up, the minute hand moving around the dial faster and faster.

  “Please tell me that some small part of you understands this?” he asked.

  I wanted to, for his sake. And a small part of me did
understand. I’d seen Luke on those newscasts and morning shows, talking about what happened to him in a way that I’m sure moved total strangers to tears. He was good up there. And apparently, he needed it, too. I wished he didn’t. I wished I were enough.

  “Part of me understands,” I said. “But every part of me hates this.”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. I let my forehead fall against his chest. “Every part of me hates this, too.”

  We sat like that for a long time, neither one of us wanting to be the first to let go.

  I thought back to the day we met at the diner three hundred and fifteen days earlier, and I tried to picture every day from that first one on in order, but it was impossible. I wished I’d saved more than his words. I wished I’d somehow mentally captured every second we’d had together and filed it away for safekeeping so I could pull them up for the rest of my life, every time I needed one. I thought back to that night I almost broke up with him, when he told me I was ridiculous; that this was worth the pain of it ending and that he’d never regret a second we’d spent together.

  He took my face in his hands and rested his forehead against mine, and I could tell he had something to say but he didn’t know quite how to say it. I made it easier on him.

  “I have to let you go, don’t I?” I wasn’t talking about the mission trip. Even though he wasn’t leaving for another forty-nine days, I had to let him go now, not in June. I couldn’t count down the days to the end of us anymore, not if he no longer saw them the way I did, as precious and worth holding on to.

  Still, I thought he’d try to talk me out of it like he had that night he drew me the map.

  “Yeah.” He practically choked on the word. It was clear from the look on his face that he wasn’t talking about the mission trip either.

  And then he leaned in closer and kissed me, but it felt like an act of desperation, like he was doing it to shut both of us up. And I was glad he did, because the words we’d already said hurt way too much as it was.

  My throat felt tight, and it was all I could do to hold back the tears.