Thousand Words

by Jennifer Brown

  When he finally called, three days later, he was in his car on the way back to Chesterton for a long weekend. He sounded grim. He said he wanted to see me right away. He said we needed to talk.

  But he didn’t tell me he loved me.

  He didn’t say he was excited to see me.

  Just hung up.

  DAY 18

  COMMUNITY SERVICE

  The day after Mack bought me Hot Tamales, I brought extra change and bought us both SweeTarts. And the day after that I split a packet of Oreos with him because neither of us had enough coins to get a whole pack to ourselves. And pretty soon it was our thing, to head straight for the candy machines during restroom break, me blinking the glow of the computer screen away in the unlit hallway and him yanking up his perpetually falling-down jeans.

  Every day we met there, and every day we shared a short conversation. But I was always the one doing the talking.

  “Where do you live?” I asked him once.

  “In Chesterton.”

  “Yeah, but where?”

  He laughed and stuffed a palmful of M&M’S into his mouth. “I freaking live here these days.” And then I laughed with him, because I totally felt that way sometimes, too, but I soon found myself laughing alone as he took off toward the classroom again. He did that often—just walked away in the middle of a conversation, leaving me feeling awkward and wondering if I’d said something wrong. This time, though, I followed him.

  “I live in Lake Heights,” I said, tripping after him, the M&M’S in my palm growing warm.

  “I know. You live in that green house. The one with the pool.”

  “No, that’s Vonnie’s house. Mine’s on the smaller side of the neighborhood. You live over there, too, or something?”

  “No. Everyone knows about the green house with the pool.”

  Of course they did. Like I said, Vonnie’s parties were legendary.

  “What do you listen to?” I asked, pointing to his earbuds, which were casually draped around the back of his neck.

  “Music.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Duh. What kind?”

  “Any kind.”

  “Who’s your favorite?”

  “Whoever’s on at the time.”

  “Can I listen?”

  “Why don’t you bring your own music?”

  “Because I can’t concentrate on that and work at the same time.”

  “Then I guess you can’t listen. I don’t want to distract you. Hey, look, a double M&M.” He held up two candies fused together, and the subject was closed. Mack had a real knack for closing subjects.

  The day before I was supposed to meet with Kaleb, Mrs. Mosely was late and room 104 was locked. Kenzie and Angel sat on the floor, Kenzie’s mighty stomach held up by her lap so high it looked like it was eating her head. Angel was painting Kenzie’s fingernails, Kenzie’s hand splayed out on the carpeted floor in front of them, the scent of fingernail polish permeating the hallway.

  “Damn, girl, close that shit up,” Darrell said, dropping his backpack to the floor and leaning against the wall. “You gonna mess up your baby with fumes.”

  “Shut up about my baby, Darrell,” Kenzie said, but he ignored her.

  “I got two more to color,” Angel said. She glanced up at Darrell. “Then I can do yours.” She and Kenzie laughed, and even Darrell seemed to find amusement in her remark.

  “Ain’t nobody painting my nails,” he said. “I’m a real man.”

  “That ain’t what I heard. I heard you got pink toenails up in those shoes,” Kenzie said.

  Cord made a snickering noise from his place by the bulletin board, and Darrell looked over at him as if he was going to start a fight, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he said to Angel, “That dude down there is waiting for his turn to get his legs waxed.” Cord turned and eyed Darrell.

  I pushed away from the wall and headed toward the stairwell, distancing myself before things got ugly. I was surprised to see Mack already there, hands in pockets, assessing his options.

  “It’s my turn,” I said. I pulled a handful of quarters out of my pocket and shook them in my fist. “Big day today. Cinnamon buns.”

  He took the quarters and fed some of them to the machine. A two-pack of glossy rolls fell to the bottom and he bent to pick them up. I could see that both elbows of his jacket were worn through now. Something about seeing his bare elbows poking out made me feel uncomfortable and spoiled.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked, handing me the buns and turning to push more coins into the machine.

  I sighed, feeling the heft of the pastry in my hand. “I’m going to see my ex-boyfriend tomorrow.”

  He raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond. Though I figured he already knew, I hadn’t shared any of the details of what had happened between Kaleb and me. Kenzie and Angel had said plenty, but I’d never said a word about the photo.

  “With my mom and my lawyer. At his lawyer’s office. So he can apologize.”

  He raised his eyebrows again and tore open the plastic over his rolls. “Wow,” he said. “Awkward.” He pulled a piece of pastry off and popped it into his mouth.

  “I know, right? I’m so lucky. He dumped me, called me a bitch, and then ruined my life. I can’t wait to see him again,” I said sarcastically, but some of the vigor had been leached out of my voice. I didn’t like revisiting how it all went down at the end.

  A pair of heels clicked down the steps over our heads and we could hear Mrs. Mosely’s voice as she apologized for keeping everyone waiting.

  “Well, good luck with that,” Mack said, and he held up a hunk of cinnamon bun like he was toasting me. I held up my package, too, and bumped it against his hand.

  “Thanks.”

  “For what it’s worth,” he said, heading down the hallway toward the now open room, “I think he owes you an apology. A lot more than that, actually.”

  I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. I smiled in the shadows underneath the stairs and the soft glow of the backlighting from the candy machine, because I believed him. And I agreed with him. Kaleb owed me more than an apology. A lot more.

  Eventually I made my way to the classroom, where Mrs. Mosely was giving a lecture about behavior in the hallways even when she was tardy and how it was inappropriate to deface public property with fingernail polish or anything else, and I knew I’d missed something that had happened with Kenzie and Angel and Darrell, but I didn’t really care. The three of them didn’t want me in their little triangle any more than I wanted to be in it.

  I laid my community service paper, which was getting pretty filled up with signatures, on Mrs. Mosely’s desk and headed for my computer. Mack was already clicking away on his. I sat down, opened my cinnamon buns, and took a small bite before pulling up my browser.

  After a few minutes, I felt a bump on my shoulder. I looked over to see Mack’s hand, holding out an earbud toward me. The other earbud was in his right ear, and I could hear the buzzing of electric guitars coming out of this one. I took it and put it in my ear.

  And for the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled.

  SEPTEMBER

  Message 94

  OMG, that is gross!

  Message 96

  Srsly? Uncool. For real.

  I dressed in tight capris and a tank top. Showered, did my hair, put on makeup, tried to look extra good for him. Sat on my front porch and waited, craning my neck to look down the street every time I heard a car engine.

  When he finally showed up, I smiled bright and kissed him hard and let tufts of his hair, which had gotten longer while he’d been away, slide between my fingers.

  “God, it’s so good to see you,” I said, wrapping myself around him. He smelled amazing, and memories of all the things we’d done together flooded in on me and made me melt a little on the inside. Suddenly our fights didn’t matter to me anymore. It seemed impossible that this guy would ever have hurt me.

  I remembered the night he’d asked me to
prom last year. Out of the blue, he’d shown up at my house carrying a big white box. He was already tan from baseball practice and he’d bought a new cologne—the one he was wearing tonight—and he looked nervous and excited. He was wearing the silver chain I’d given him for Christmas, and his hair curled out from under his baseball cap, a little tuft poking through the hole in the back. I’d opened the door and he’d handed me the box without saying a word. Inside were a dozen cupcakes, almost too beautiful to eat, and on the ones in the center, the words ASHLEIGH WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME? were piped on with pink icing. We’d sat on my front porch and devoured as many of them as our stomachs could handle, feeding each other and joking about the insane number of pictures our moms were probably going to take. That night was magical, and prom night was even more magical than that.

  I wanted to get some of that magic back. “I missed you,” I said, squeezing hard.

  He didn’t answer. And his arms felt limp around me. But when I pulled away, he offered a half-smile. He looked tired, like he hadn’t had much sleep the night before.

  “Where to?” I asked, climbing into the passenger side of his truck. Even though things had been tough between us lately, I had been sure that when we saw each other face-to-face everything would be great.

  He got behind the wheel and we closed the doors. But he didn’t turn the key, and instead sat there looking red in the face.

  I touched his arm, trying to ignore the pangs of alarm beating through my fingertips. “What’s up?” I asked.

  Finally, he turned toward me, leaving his keys dangling in the ignition, the truck turned off.

  “You look really pretty tonight.” He picked up a handful of my hair and let it fall back against my shoulder.

  I smiled. “Thank you. All for you.” I scooted toward him and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned away from me.

  “Listen, Ash.” He cleared his throat, then paused, and my smile crumpled in on itself. I already knew what this was before he ever said a word.

  “You’re breaking up with me,” I said, my voice brittle and bitter. A statement, not a question.

  He nodded, closing his eyes miserably.

  “Because of her, right?” He looked confused. “Holly?” I prodded, and he rolled his eyes and shook his head like he’d known I was going to go there.

  “In a way, I guess you could say that.”

  “I knew it!” I said. “I knew you were sleeping with her.”

  “I wasn’t! And I’m not. But it’s… this. It’s the way you’re always accusing me of stuff. Always starting fights. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep making you feel miserable and letting you make me feel guilty when I didn’t even do anything wrong.”

  I crossed my arms and cocked my jaw and stared straight ahead, catching my own reflection in the window. Strangely, there were no tears this time. I was so angry I felt shaky, but my eyes were dry.

  “Excuse me for loving you,” I said sarcastically. “I’m so sorry I cared that you were falling in love with someone else.”

  “See?” he said, his own voice taking on that clipped, pissed sound it’d had so often lately. “That’s what I’m talking about. You assumed I was falling in love with someone else, so you started accusing me of it. You are constantly accusing me of things I didn’t do.”

  “But I always say I’m sorry. That’s what couples do when they fight. They apologize and work it out. They don’t just give up when they go through a hard time.”

  He paused, licked his lips, and then said, “But I don’t want to work it out anymore. I don’t want to be with someone who’s always having to say she’s sorry. And I want to give up.”

  I sat back and let it sink in. Kaleb really was breaking up with me, and there was nothing I could do about it. I knew I would be heartbroken over losing him, but at the moment I was so furious that he’d come all this way, and had led me to believe that he wanted to see me, and I was so foolish and desperate to keep him that I’d jumped at the chance to believe that this little visit of his was going to be all about repairing our relationship. And why? Why had I been so desperate to keep him? So I could continue to be left out while he played baseball and hung out with his study groups at college?

  “Fine,” I spat. “I deserve better than this, anyway. I deserve someone who appreciates me without making me beg for attention. You know, I never complained when you chose baseball over me. I always sat behind the dugout in my stupid little lawn chair, watching you, instead of going out and doing something fun with my friends. I didn’t say anything when you blew off Vonnie’s party. I even sent you that picture to show you how much I loved you and to make our relationship more real. What a crock.”

  He blinked, like he was confused, and then it seemed to dawn on him what I was talking about. “I didn’t ask you to send that picture.”

  “And I didn’t ask you to share it with Nate!”

  He threw his head back and made a moaning, growling noise. “That again? God, it’s like you can never drop anything, Ashleigh. I did nothing wrong. You’re imagining it all.”

  “You admitted you told Nate about it. I’m not imagining that. And that’s what started our problems.”

  He shook his head again. “Ridiculous. Actually, you’re what started our problems. I could never be with you long-term. You’re psycho.”

  “Screw you, Kaleb,” I said, and grabbed the door handle. “Are we done?”

  He nodded. “More than.”

  “Good. It was so nice knowing you,” I said, sarcasm dripping off my tongue. I could feel the tears coming at last, and I wanted to get out of the truck before he had the satisfaction of seeing me cry. “Thank God I never slept with you. You’re probably a walking STD.”

  “Whatever. Says the girl who takes pictures of herself naked at parties.”

  I glared at him, wishing like crazy I’d never listened to Rachel at that party. Had never sent him anything. The way he said it, like taking nude photos of myself was something I did all the time, made me feel more than embarrassed. It made me feel ashamed. “You better delete that picture from your phone,” I said.

  He made a disgusted face. “Believe me, I did that a long time ago.”

  I slammed the truck door and ran inside, keeping the tears at bay until I was safely upstairs in my bedroom. I fell facedown onto my bed and cried until I was spent.

  Then I called Vonnie.

  “What’s up, Buttercup?” she singsonged into the phone. I could hear the squeak of shoes on a gym floor in the background. “Sorry, just got done with volleyball practice. Waiting for Annie to get out of JV practice. Can you believe she didn’t make varsity again? She’s thinking of quitting. I don’t blame her. I mean, seriously, if you’ve been playing since you were nine and your coach won’t even put you on varsity junior year, that’s pretty messed up.”

  “Yeah,” I said with no conviction in my voice. “I guess.”

  “Uh-oh. You sound upset. Should I start a petition?” She laughed. “Just kidding. What’s up with you?”

  I sniffled and pulled a thread on my bedspread, watching the fabric bunch and snag. “Kaleb and I broke up.”

  She gasped. “What? When?”

  “Just now. He’s in town.”

  The coach’s whistle trilled and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. When I put it back, Vonnie was in midsentence. “—happened? What did he say? Was it about that other chick he’s been hanging out with?”

  The thread I was pulling snapped, so I dug up another and yanked harder. The fabric scrunched in on itself. “No. I mean… kind of. He said I was psycho for always accusing him of cheating on me.”

  “How could he blame you? I mean, he’s, like, always with her, isn’t he? This is a diversion tactic. He’s totally sleeping with her and he doesn’t like that you busted him on it.”

  “I don’t know, Von. He swears he wasn’t. Isn’t. Why would he lie if he was going to break up with me anyway? I mean, why not just admit it?”

  �
��Um, because he’s a guy? That’s my guess. Lying is all they know how to do.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it. Ever since Russell had broken Vonnie’s heart, she’d been convinced that all guys were as horrible as he was. The second thread snapped and I rolled it into a ball between my thumb and forefinger. “It doesn’t matter. It’s definitely over between us.”

  “I’m sorry, Buttercup. But really, you’re better off without him. He was always hanging out with those baseball wannabes and you were always alone. And then he moves away and he gets all freaked out because you miss him?” She made a grunting noise into the phone. “He’s not worth the trouble. Now you can find a real guy.”

  I felt tears threatening to start anew, mainly because I didn’t agree with her. Kaleb had been worth it. I’d dated him the longest I’d ever dated anyone. We’d had a lot of good times, before summer break. As mad as I was at him now, it was impossible to forget how happy I’d been with him then.

  There were more whistles and the sound of shoes pounding on wood floor. “Oh, hey, Annie’s done. Gotta go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, curling into a ball on my side, pressing the phone between my ear and the bed so I wouldn’t have to hold it.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be glad he’s gone in no time. You say he’s in town for a couple days?”

  “Yeah. For the weekend.”

  “At his parents’ house?”

  “I would assume so.”

  “Okay. Good.” And then she hung up.

  And I drifted off to a dark, dreamless sleep. It wasn’t until I woke up again an hour later that it occurred to me what she’d said. What had she meant, good?

  DAY 19

  COMMUNITY SERVICE

  Kaleb’s lawyer’s office was one of those hoity-toity stuffy places where all the furniture was burgundy leather and there was soft lighting through cream lampshades, and classical music was being piped in from somewhere, but you could only hear it if you were very, very still. It was the kind of place where you felt like you had to whisper, as if loud voices weren’t allowed.