Lost Years

by MK Schiller

  I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. “Get one thing straight. You don’t know me. I will not disrespect her. And I won’t let you, either.” You don’t know us, I wanted to say, but that didn’t make sense.

  To his credit, he didn’t wince or flinch or even act surprised. “Don’t plan on my blessing. I love Scarlett, so I’m gonna watch you real close.”

  I patted his chest. “You do whatever you need to, but for fuck’s sake, stop with the dramatic, passive-aggressive shit.”

  The rest of the day passed in a blur. I kept looking for her, expecting she might stop in, but she didn’t. A deep dread settled heavily in my gut. Trying to keep my focus on work, I improved with every table, actually feeling like I might be earning my tips.

  After we closed, Russell left without saying good-bye and Scarlett never showed. I ate Aunt Rose’s meatloaf while watching Bob dance with her to Todd Rundgren’s “Hello It’s Me.” Bob spun Aunt Rose around, and when he dipped her, he said, “Way to go, champ.”

  Yep, romantic guy, that Bob.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As the sun set, I went for a run on the beach, kicking up the sand in my wake. I pushed myself as hard as I could, craving the physical intensity to keep my thoughts focused on the surreal shift my life had taken.

  My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I kept running, determined to make some sense of the chaos. I sprinted through the pain and then past it until I could only manage the shallowest of breaths. Drenched in twelve grueling miles of sweat and grit, I collapsed onto the sand in exhaustion. What was happening? My mind pieced together shreds of logic until I weaved together a flimsy but plausible conclusion.

  The dreams were a manifestation of another dimension…fragments of another life. One where Scarlett and I grew up together and fell in love slowly over the course of many years. Our real love story was fast and frenzied. Either way, we were meant to be. I had found her.

  This was a second chance at the life I was supposed to have. Who was I to question fate? I felt a little relief, but the weight of all the dreams and finding serenity still scared the hell out of me. What if this wasn’t real at all and I woke up in some mental institution strapped into a gurney on my way to get a lobotomy? What if…what if I was lying in a hospital bed suffering from a serious concussion after five guys beat me up at a frat party?

  “No!” I screamed into the air. I punched the sand until my fists bled.

  This was real. She was real. I had found her.

  I ran until I was too exhausted to think anymore.

  In keeping with my newly adopted stalker lifestyle, I drove past her house, but a car was in the driveway—probably her mom. I didn’t knock on the door.

  I showered under a spray of water so hot that my skin smoked afterwards.

  Crashing into bed, I prayed she was still on the island. That she hadn’t changed her mind. That I didn’t wake up strapped to a gurney.

  I had found her. So why did I still feel so lost?

  Chapter Fourteen

  We were throwing around a football. The faceless boys now had faces…and names. Tommy and Russ. Scarlett was there, too. I was young, barely a teenager, although my age probably surpassed my maturity. Tommy was the tallest of all of us, but I was close to him. Russ was short and stout. She kept yelling at us to throw the ball to her. We ignored her.

  “I’m open,” she yelled more than once, holding her arms out, her crimson hair in pigtails, her knees all skinned up.

  “You throw like a girl,” Russell said.

  “Yeah, but I catch better than you, butterfingers. C’mon, Tommy, throw me the ball.”

  “Fine, if it’ll stop your yapping,” Tommy said and swung back, throwing it way too hard.

  She caught it but lost her footing a little. Russell and I pounced on her. We managed to knock her down. “You’re not so tough, Miss Scarlett,” Russell said.

  She groaned, tilting her head in my direction. As her sweet breath washed over my face, something weird happened. I got a little hot for no reason. Her deep blue eyes widened, and her lips puckered for just a second.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah…um, can you please get your hand off my boobs?” She turned in Russ’ direction. “Both of you.”

  The spell broke.

  I was touching her boob. And Russell, the stupid turd, had his hand on its twin.

  “Get up, man,” I yelled at him, the previous warm sensation replaced with irritation.

  Both of us shot up like her body was made of fire and we’d suffered severe burns. Perhaps we had. It was Tommy who helped her up. He brushed the dirt off her behind. She backed away from him, from all three of us, like a cornered animal.

  Shit.

  Her face matched her hair, and she bit down on her lower lip. God, this was uncomfortable. She wasn’t one of us anymore. I looked around in any direction that kept her out of vision. Scarlett was a girl. When did that happen?

  “Where did you get those mosquito bites, Scar?” Russell asked, gesturing to her upper body. I got it. He was trying to make things okay again with his joke.

  “At the Goodwill where you got your shirt, asshole. Where do you think?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, which was probably wise because despite my attempts to avoid her, my gaze shifted right back.

  “Hope you kept the receipt,” he said. The three of us laughed, but it was hollow.

  “I don’t want to play anymore.”

  “Don’t be like that,” Tommy said, but she shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

  “I should hang around my own kind for a while.”

  “Trailer park people?” I asked. Shit, did I just say that? Her lower lip quivered, and I felt like an ass. It was like we all suffered from vomit of the mouth, and no matter what we said, it was wrong.

  “Girls!” she screamed at me.

  “It’s a joke.” I held up my hands in surrender. “Just kidding around.”

  “Next time, try to be funny.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, mustering as much sarcasm as I could. A flicker of pain flashed across her face. Shit, did we cause that? I took a cautious step toward her. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “Of course she’s not. She has natural padding,” Russell said.

  “Shut the fuck up, Foster,” I growled at him. Although his smart mouth wasn’t taking a break, he looked nervous. Whatever was happening to me was going on with him, too. For some reason, that frustrated me even more.

  “I’m gonna hang with Anna. I’ll catch y’all later.”

  We watched as she hopped on her bike. She sped away from us, looking back once as if to check we weren’t chasing her.

  “Next time, why don’t we just push her down on purpose and call her fat? Oh, and if she has any candy, we should take that, too,” Tommy said.

  “Why is she mad at us? We fool around all the time,” Russell said. That was true; we made fun of each other. It’s what friends did, and she was our friend, so she wasn’t immune to it. Besides, that girl could dish it out as good if not better than the rest of us, but something was different now.

  “Why did you go and say that stuff about her boobs, Foster? That’s why she’s pissed.” I shoved him.

  He shoved me right back. “Oh, like you handled it well with that trailer park shit. Whatever, at least I said something instead of asking her if she was okay fifty times.”

  My jaw clenched along with my fists. “I wanted to make sure.”

  “So fucking what? She’s got boobs now. Are we supposed to ignore that?”

  “Uh, I think you guys should stop talking about her boobs,” Tommy, the wisest among us, added.

  After that day, she avoided the three of us like we were the walking plague. We thought she’d come around, but four miserable months came and went. I missed her. I wanted things to go back to normal. We all did.

  None of us voiced it, but there was something else in the guarded way she sto
od that day. I caught sight of it right before she jumped on the bike…fear.

  Why would she be scared of us? We were the kids she’d played with every single day. The ones who made her laugh and annoyed her and joked with her. How could she be frightened by us?

  She’d changed in other ways, too. Scarlett wore huge sweatshirts and baggy jeans every single day, even when the temperature soared past a hundred degrees. Her hair hung limp and greasy with a mess of braids in it. Her eyes sported dark circles, and she was fidgety in class. We each had our own theories. Russ said it was girl problems and we should leave her be because we sure as hell had no business in that area. I thought it had everything to do with the insults we flung that day. But Tommy suspected there was something much deeper bothering our Scarlett. The worse she got, the more I agreed with Tommy.

  It was Tommy who hatched the plan to cheer her up and maybe even get her to forgive us…dumbass plan.

  “This is stupid,” I said, watching Russell strum his guitar outside the cafeteria doors.

  “It’ll work,” Tommy insisted. “We embarrassed her. And now we’ll be embarrassing ourselves for her, so she’ll forgive us.”

  His adolescent logic actually made sense. Still, I’d rather stick my hand in a beehive than go through with this fool idea.

  “Why do you have your guitar, Foster? Didn’t you pay Joe the twenty bucks to sneak into the office and plug the music through the speakers?”

  “I did, but I’m gonna play along. It’ll sound better that way.” Better my ass. The dickhead was just showing off for Scarlett.

  “We didn’t practice it that way.”

  “Jesus, Flynn, just figure it out. It’s not rocket science.” Russ smirked, a big shit-eating grin I wanted to swipe from his face.

  “If it was rocket science, Flynn might be good at it,” Tommy said, trying to deflect the situation.

  My fists unclenched, but my jaw flexed tighter. “I don’t know about this. I think we’ll make it worst.” I’d voiced this opinion at least a hundred times since Tommy came up with the idea.

  “Shit, Flynn, you know Scarlett loves music. It will work,” Russell said with fake confidence.

  “Yeah, if anyone’s going to back out, it should be me. I didn’t touch her boob or say anything mean,” Tommy said.

  “This was your idea, Castings,” Russ said, shoving him a bit. “No backing out for any of us.”

  “Relax, I’m joking.” Tommy responded to Russ but looked at me. “Besides, I’m the only one of us who’s got some talent.” Turning to me, he notched down his cockiness. “It’ll work. Girls love this kinda grand gesture crap.”

  “What the hell is a grand gesture?” I asked. Judging from Russell’s puzzled look, he had no clue, either.

  “See, this is why both of you suck.”

  “How do you even know about this?” Russ asked.

  “My mom watches a lot of girl movies. A grand gesture is something huge you do for someone else. Something that will stick with them. They do it in movies all the time.”

  “Like when Bruce Willis stops the terrorists to save his wife in Die Hard?” I asked.

  Tommy’s amused smile told me I got it wrong, but he nodded anyway. “Sure…like that.”

  He adjusted his tie. We were all wearing white button-down shirts, black dress pants, and matching red ties. Not just for our performance, but because it was a game day and Coach made us dress up.

  “Showtime,” Tommy announced.

  The three of us strutted into the cafeteria with an arrogant swagger, which cloaked our real anxieties. We stood in front of her table. All conversation ceased as Russell plucked a few chords. Then it got so silent that you could hear a plastic fork drop on the carpet.

  Scarlett’s face turned a deep shade of crimson. This wasn’t going to work. The girl would die of embarrassment, and the three stupid boys in front her would get their asses kicked before we finished the first verse. Her new best friend, Donna Corrigan, giggled uncontrollably.

  Why did you make Donna your best friend?

  Why did you give my job away, Scarlett?

  “What the heck are you doing?” Donna asked. “Don’t tell me y’all are serenading us?”

  Not you, Donna. This has nothing to do with you.

  “Just gonna sing a little song,” Tommy answered.

  “Why are you doing this?” Scarlett demanded in a terse whisper.

  I almost darted for the door. Maybe Russ and Tommy sensed that because they flanked me.

  Tommy cleared his throat. “We’re jerks. Sorry. This is for you cause you’re cool.” Russ and I nodded along as if Tommy had recited the most impassioned speech.

  Then we froze like a pack of possums.

  “Well? Are you gonna do something?” Donna asked, her shrill voice cutting across the cafeteria silence.

  The three stupid boys turned their faces toward the speakers in the ceiling. Castings make the sign of the cross. Foster’s breathing picked up. I fiddled with my tie, which suddenly turned into a noose. I almost used it to wipe the trickle of sweat running down my temple. Russell plucked a few nervous chords. Tommy checked and rechecked his watch. Damn it, Joe, where the hell are you? Had he gotten caught? Fuck, Foster was good on guitar, but I doubted he could do the whole song. When the music did finally ring through the speakers, we almost missed our queue.

  Russ strummed along to “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg” by the Temptations. None of us was capable of the appropriate apology when it came to Scarlett, so we decided to use someone else’s words. We even had some choreography. I’d like to say it was a beautiful grand gesture and everyone cheered for us.

  But that didn’t happen. We disgraced the Temptations awesome song and missed more steps than we made, bumping into each other the whole time. What was it about this girl that made the three of us act like complete idiots?

  Russell was the lead. He had the best voice. Tommy and I hummed along. Actually, I croaked, my voice cracking with the changes of puberty. Thanks, puberty…you suck ass. I couldn’t hit a note if it was on a standing bullseye right in front of my face. I didn’t know why we didn’t just lip-sync it, but Foster and Castings vetoed me on that one. Of course, they did. They actually had talent.

  “Have your balls dropped yet, Flynn?” asked one of the kids on the football team. I was questioning that myself.

  Everyone laughed at us, even the janitor and lunch ladies. We kept going, though. We didn’t sound too hot, but Tommy could move with some rhythm. Me? I just shifted my feet, trying not to trip over myself. To my surprise, the girl’s worried frown let up. A smile took its place. Show me the dimple, girl. She did.

  When the last note died down, the three of us were full-on sweating like we’d played four quarters with no breaks. We might be the butt of every joke until the end of time, but seeing her smile would make me do it again.

  I dragged a hand through my hair. I mouthed the word sorry over the heckling roar of the crowd. She connected her thumb to her index finger, making an okay sign.

  I nodded to indicate I understood.

  The rest of it didn’t matter. I had her forgiveness. And that was more than okay by me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aunt Rose said she wanted to sleep in for once. I made some tea and put it in a thermos for her so it would be ready when she woke up. The other day, I’d noticed a few of the cabinets stuck, so I oiled the hinges and gave all the shelves a deep clean. It wasn’t enough to repay Rose, but it was something.

  When I arrived at the diner, Russell greeted me with his now familiar scowl. Bob threw a “Hiya, champ” at me.

  Scarlett’s voice echoed through the space. “Who the hell closed yesterday? They never cleaned the coffee machine.”

  “New guy,” Russell said, jabbing a thumb toward me.

  She shook her head, hands on her hips. “New guy, what are we going to do with you?”

  “I don’t know, but I sure hope you’re the one doing it.”

  We star
ed at each like long lost souls. She looked fresh and crisp in the white miniskirt, snug V-neck shirt, and hair piled on her head with a few loose strands framing her face. Tall purple cowboy boots graced her legs. I wanted to fuck her in nothing but those boots.

  “I’m banning the banter. Get a room,” Russell said, elbowing me as he walked past.

  “If this island had a hotel, I would,” I muttered.

  She looked between the two of us. “Um…I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s put it on the back burner.”

  “Suits me, Miss Scarlett,” Russ said between clenched teeth, wiping the counter with such force, he might have scraped away the Formica.

  “Hiya, sport,” Bob said, giving Scarlett a hug. “It’s good to have your smiling face back here. I can’t deal with these two much longer.” He lowered his voice. “It’s been tense.”

  “Well, I’m glad I’m back. Rose said she could use me today, and I figured I’d make some money since I have some time now.” She spoke to him but looked at me.

  “Temporarily,” Russ added for no particular reason but to piss me off.

  “Great news either way, Champ. I’m taking the ferry to the grocers, but I’ll be back soon, and you can tell me all about it.”

  As the door swung closed behind Bob, Scarlett mumbled that she had no idea how to start that story. Me, either, baby.

  “I’ll get the fish,” Russell said.

  “Fish?” I asked.

  “We serve fish on the weekends.”

  “Are you going fishing?”

  “No, dumbass, I’m going to buy it at the docks.” He looked back at Scarlett and then me. “Pop your eyes back into your head before I get the hose out.”

  He should get the hose. At least I’d have something to strangle him with then.

  The bells on the door chimed, signaling his departure.

  “Wow, Russell’s being a dick.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’m getting used to it.”

  “What’s going on between you two?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No, he’s never like that. You must have done something to piss him off.”