by Jenn Cooksey
“I was trying to be nice by lying to you because of Holden and everything, but I honestly don’t know why I even bothered when you obviously don’t give two shits about him, me, or my feelings. I mean you totally betrayed our friendship and full-on threw yourself at Cole last night, Erica! You knew how much I liked him and you knew he liked me too, but you just couldn’t step out of the spotlight long enough for him to have the chance to do anything about it. And don’t try denying it, either. When I saw you turn the waterworks on like that and him carry you to his room, I figured you’d probably get exactly what you wanted because you always do.
“You always get everything you want, even if you have to steal what belongs to someone else, and Cole was mine. You know, I thought he was smart enough to see through your bullshit though and come to his senses, so, imagine my surprise and hurt when I went around the front of his house and watched you guys through his window. It was torture for me to watch him take your clothes off, Erica, because I knew that if you hadn’t shown up and totally guilted him the way you did, it would’ve been me standing there, except I wouldn’t have ever done that to him. Like it seriously broke my heart to see the way you made him get on his knees, like he had to worship at your precious little feet first.
“And as if everything wasn’t bad enough, I had the complete shit scared out of me when that ugly old hag who lives next door to him snuck up with her phone in her hand and threatened to call the cops on me for trespassing if I didn’t leave. But I’d seen enough already anyway and I wasn’t gonna stand there in the stupid azaleas or whatever they were and watch you guys take a shower together or anything else that happened next, so I went home in tears. So, thanks for being such a great, trustworthy friend. That’s one hundred percent sarcasm by the way,” Destiny informs Erica, and I swear, we both can practically see the sneer and unmitigated madness on her face when we hear the click as she abruptly hangs up.
“I—I can’t even…I don’t have words,” Erica mumbles in stupefaction of the highest order.
I have to blink a few times myself before I’m able to make my voice work. “I do. Two of ‘em… Restraining order.”
Then I suddenly remember why a trip to the police department or court house won’t be necessary. I glance at the clock on my dashboard and realize I could’ve been well beyond the city limits by now and with that, I feel the gorilla inside me begin to stir again. Yanking the seatbelt across my body and slamming it into the buckle, I crank the engine and rev.
As I peel out of the parking spot and speed through the aisles of the lot looking for Erica’s grandma’s car in silence, I can feel a sense of unease coming from the passenger seat, her subconscious interpreting my energy more or less correctly and giving her a heads up that shit’s about to go down. Luckily, there’s an open spot next to the Grenada so I slow down enough to pull into it rather than simply slamming on the brakes and throwing my car into park behind hers. Reaching for my pack of cigarettes, I almost falter. I know what needs to be done though, so I complete my reach and light up, perfectly cognizant that the windows are rolled up tight. Taking an obnoxiously long drag off of it and with no regard whatsoever for the closed quarters we’re in, I exhale. For the first time ever, my offensive habit doesn’t do shit to calm me down. The whole process does however give me a little time to steel myself for the moment I turn to face her, full of certainty that I’m about to crush her utterly and completely.
“I’m leaving town, Erica. This is goodbye.”
Her face falls and her breath starts coming in short bursts, as if I just dealt her a devastating blow to her health with the word goodbye. “You say that like I’ll never see you again. That’s not what you’re saying, right? Cole, please, tell me that’s not what you’re saying!”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Just like my reply, my firm nod is one of honest, yet brutal confirmation.
“This is insane! It’s a stupid rumor! You’re letting a fucking rumor run you out of town?! I mean seriously, it’s not like this whole thing won’t blow over in a few days, you know? They’ll get bored and move on to the next thing and forget all about us!”
I’d braced myself, but being ready for her reaction doesn’t make living through it any easier. Holding onto my resolve is even harder…
Unable to continue being as blatantly rude, I roll down my window and toss my smoke out, although knowing my words will be even more toxic, I don’t hold them back. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t give a shit about any of that! What they think…what we didn’t or did do…none of it matters to me. There’s absolutely nothing keeping me here anymore, Erica, so, I’m out.”
She just looks at me, stunned and…wholly shattered. And in that moment it hits me. It’s the moment when my throat constricts in on itself and it burns like I’m swallowing brimstone with every breath I take. The moment I watch her blink back tears and open the car door with shaking hands to get out without even saying goodbye to me…the moment I’m essentially gutted from the inside out. That’s the moment I realize how weak I am.
“Come with me…”
10
“Mary Jane”
—Erica—
“Erica, honey? Is that you?” I hear my grandma’s voice float out from the kitchen and into the family room as I shuffle my way into the house in a completely dumbfounded and stricken daze, the abandonment I’ve been left with once again taking its sweet time in dissipating. “Oh, good, you’re home. I had myself a nice long sleep on the couch while you were out shopping and thought it was morning already when I woke up. I started baking straight away without even realizing it was still dark out,” she laughs at herself, “You’re just in time for fresh cherry pie right out of the oven…of course it’ll have to cool a few minutes so the ice cream doesn’t melt terribly. Did you run your gift over to Cole?”
I shake my head and look down at the couch, raising my hands to my sides briefly only to slap them onto the faded, threadbare upholstery as my butt lands on the cushions with a plop, the movement a physical articulation of how lost for words I seem to be. The latest events leaving me more or less bereft of any tool or digging implement, I suck in a deep breath and quickly pick out details that, for her sake, are best left out. Then I begin to tell her what happened.
“He’s gone, Grandma,” I start, although the deluge of tears that suddenly breaks free from where it’s been dammed up mostly by confusion and anger makes it difficult for me to get the words out—that is if I’m going for coherency.
I’ve never viewed the wrinkles on an elderly person’s face as being unattractive or depressing; I see them more as pageantry ribbons awarded to and proudly worn by those who’ve experienced so much of the joyous miracles life has to offer as well as those who have survived even the most awful and heartbreaking of events. Except now, looking up into my grandma’s kind and beautifully aged face, I find myself inwardly cringing because I detest that I’m responsible for the ugly worry lines etched in deep on her paper-thin skin. I realize she’s probably thinking that I’m talking about Holden being dead and with that understanding, I feel something like a vice-grip squeeze tight around my heart and lungs. But even though I’m afraid that she’ll be ashamed of me, I need someone to know the truth. So, I decide to just tell her everything. I don’t want to be descriptive of course, but, the truth should be known by someone other than just him and me. I feel like I owe it to him…to myself. And I feel that if she knows what really happened and some of the reason behind why Cole left, somehow the truth will become more real…more honest.
My grandma takes my honesty in stride, far better than I expect and with more grace than I deserve. I explain what people are saying about Cole and me, and when she simply nods in understanding and asks why Cole’s dad threw him out, I whisper, “He thinks it too…he thinks Cole took advantage of me and stole my virginity. But he didn’t, Grandma. He could’ve, but, he was stronger than I was. He was a true friend and he was selfless. He took care of me.”
I sort of give her a questioning look and search my mind for a recollection that will explain what she means. I don’t remember being a pest to Cole when I was little; we were friends. We did what friends do and it never seemed like playing with me was a chore for him. I mean I was the one who always gave in and played what he wanted, so really, I think I deserve some credit here for getting along with a stubborn boy who always wanted to play in the stupid dirt.
“When was I pest? I wasn’t a pest.”
“Oooh!” she cackles and claps her hands, like I’d just told the funniest joke ever, “Erica, I tell you…you were such a handful when you were a little girl. There were times when your grandpa, God rest his soul, would have had about as much as he could take of your rambunctiousness…makin’ some ghastly messes with my makeup and fingernail polish, and always wantin’ him to play tea party with you, braid your hair and put gads of ribbons in it…but not Cole. He’d show up and you’d forget all about playin’ dress up with Grandpa. You’d follow him around all over the place, talkin’ his ear off and makin’ him share his toys with you. And you know, that boy never once made a peep about what a nuisance you could be. He’d just pull up his britches and take you on like it was his duty as a man,” she chuckles, and then almost to herself, she quietly muses, “Then again, you were really his only friend back then. You made it so that he didn’t have to grow up lonely…”
My eyes fall and I stare at the old and dusky, country blue carpeting of my family room that served as a WWF fight ring when Cole and I would pretend we were professional wrestlers. I didn’t like the corny acting and obviously fake violence, but I knew he did so I happily played along. Just like how when I was around ten, I gave in and watched my very first scary movie with him. We lied about what we were watching because I wasn’t supposed to watch any rated R movies yet. I was petrified, but he’d wanted to watch it so badly. Afterwards, I took the blame and begged my grandparents and his dad to let Cole sleep over because I was scared; however, he was the one who didn’t want to go home that night. Then my eyes find the faded red stain from when he’d had the flu and thrown up a cherry Popsicle right in the middle of the room because he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time. I had pretended to not see him cry about it and then I tried to read his favorite Goosebumps book to him because I thought it would cheer him up. I kept getting stuck on the bigger words though so he ended up reading it to me instead. So many moments in time… Moments that might’ve been lost forever if I hadn’t chosen to champion the truth tonight.
Our history continues to whip through my mind, realization beginning to dawn as Cole’s offer echoes in the far off distance…
“Come with me…”
It had sounded more like a plea when he first asked me to leave town with him. But I thought he was feeling guilty for being a jerk and was begging me to forgive him; like the initial offer was an olive branch of sorts. I argued that I couldn’t just up and leave like he was. I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea if I were to leave with him. I’d said that I’m not that impulsive…that it’d be a rash decision to make.
He’d gotten out of his car and grabbed my elbow and spun me to face him, and he got right in my face when he turned it all around on me by saying, “So be rash, Erica! Be reckless and bold! You don’t belong here any more than I do. Quit living your life for other people and being someone they think you should be. Be who you want to be. Do something for yourself for once. Throw everything to the wind and take a chance. Come with me.”
I lift my eyes back to my grandma’s. “He asked me to go with him…”
“Well, why on Earth didn’t you?” she blindsides me with the question, her tone sounding distinctly annoyed with me for being responsible. I mean, Heaven forbid.
“Because I couldn’t, Grandma, you know that. This is my home. I have you to think about and I have college in the fall to get ready for. I can’t go on some long road-trip across the country spur of the moment like that.”
“I don’t see why not. You have three months to do as you please before school starts up, sweetheart. And don’t you go usin’ me as an excuse to not go and have yourself a little adventure either. I might be gettin’ along in years, but I don’t need you here to babysit me.”
“Gran, that wasn’t what I meant and you know it,” I say and roll my eyes at her, “What I meant was…well, I mean, he didn’t even have an idea of where he’s going and I honestly think he’s planning on just pitching a damned tent on the side of the road whenever he gets tired of driving for Christ’s sake!”
“Erica Mildred Taylor,” she snaps and purses her lips, making me remember being scolded for using her good pie plates and oven to make mud pies almost every time it rained. Good grief…I guess I really was a handful.
“Sorry, Grandma.”
“Now you listen to me, there’s nothin’ wrong with a young person not havin’ a clear-cut plan, honey. These are the years people your age are supposed to be learnin’ from their mistakes and figurin’ out who they are and who they want to be. Cole’s finally doin’ that, and I’m glad he is. I wish you would too. Take it from an old woman, Erica, life has a funny way of speedin’ past and before you know it, you’re at the end of the road. Might as well see the sights along the way if you get the chance.”
I sigh and shake my head. I’m kind of speechless about the fact that my grandma is encouraging me to be wild and reckless. It just seems so out of character for someone like her and it’s just so surreal to even think about doing something so out of character for me that I don’t really know what to do or how to process any of it.
“Well, it’s too late now anyway. He’s long gone…” I mumble, processing the best way I know how, and that’s clearly by using an earth mover to bulldoze the possibility off the table altogether so that I don’t have to decide one way or another. After all, I did already make the decision, and it encompassed having to blink back a flood of sorrowed tears watching his taillights speed through the parking lot and dwindle to tiny red specks before disappearing completely.
“Oh, I doubt that,” she smiles knowingly, “I think you’ll find that when it comes to things like this and good friends, it’s never too late. You give him a call, honey, tell him you’ll go with him. I bet he comes back for you.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I ask, genuinely nervous like I’ve never been before and feeling like my life now hangs in the balance. As if I’m standing with my back to the edge of a cliff, teetering, and trusting that someone almost as damaged as I am will catch me before I plummet headlong to my death. It’s a little bit of stretch in terms of comparing asking a friend to come back for me versus letting me fall into a gorge, but really, it’s just a difference between emotional and physical danger; the risks involved with both are about the same for me at this point. “And what about how it’ll look? You know, what everyone will think?”
“Pashaw. You pay no never mind to those tongue waggers. I know I never do. People will always find something to flap their gums about and most o’ the time, they’re just talkin’ to hear their own voices. Sometimes it’s because they’re scared or jealous, but mostly, they’re just bored or lonely and lookin’ for someone to pay attention to them.”
I blow out a decided breath and nod. “Alright. If you’re okay with it and really want me to do this, I’ll ask him to come back and get me.”
“Good, you get to dialin’,” she says and jumps up,
her knees creaking once or twice with the weight of her standing body on them again, but even with that, she’s far more spry than you’d expect a woman of her age to be, especially at a little past nine in the evening.
Then again, she did have a nap…
“I’m gonna go pack up some meals for you two and sign over the paperwork to Cole for that old camper that’s just sittin’ on the side of the house. Figure it’ll make up for havin’ to come all the way back here in the first place and then cartin’ you around the country with him,” she states so casually that I can’t do anything else except stare at her with my mouth hanging open, “Well don’t look at me like that. I been meanin’ to sell it since your Grandpa passed, bless his heart. And it’s ‘bout time it gets used for something other than bein’ an eyesore. Besides, I don’t really want to be worryin’ ‘bout either o’ you sleepin’ on the side of a road, even if it is God’s country.”
A true smile stretches across my face as excited butterflies start flapping their wings like mad in my stomach. I watch my grandma shimmy into the kitchen and my brain finally interprets the scent of pie that my nose had picked up earlier but never quite got the message to my head of the yumminess that awaits. With my phone in my hand, I debate calling versus texting, quickly choosing to go with texting because if I call, I know I’ll most likely get Cole’s voicemail. He doesn’t usually like to talk on the phone ever, but especially when he’s driving. He almost always listens to music really loud anyway so chances are, he won’t hear me call and who knows how long it could be before he checks for missed calls or listens to messages. He doesn’t really text and drive either, but this way he’ll at least probably see it. I hope. I really hope, because all of a sudden, I’m practically giddy about hearing his car pull up out front so we can go on an adventure together.