by SL Naeole
I nodded my head, and then tipped my head towards Graham's prone body, hoping she'd get the hint that he was in the dark about that little fact. "She's going to have a great deal of enjoyment at my expense come next Friday."
Stacy smiled. "I think you will as well, just going by these little notes you have here. I might consider cutting class and sneaking it just to watch. And hey! You're coming back to school next week, eh?"
It again took me by surprise how pleased it made me feel to know that someone actually cared about me coming back to school. Part of me wondered where she had been three years ago, but I knew now that I wouldn't have been able to appreciate her friendship then.
"Yeah, I'll be coming back to school next week Friday. I think the doctor will let me go once he sees that I can manage pretty well. It doesn't even feel like I've got broken bones!" I giggled nervously at that last bit.
Stacy looked over at Graham still lying on the floor, not moving. I looked, too, wondering what her reasons for staring at him were. "So I read that the new guy, Robert, he saved your life?"
"He happened to be heading that way towards his family's property when he saw me on the road," I said, repeating the same story for her as I had to my dad, a police officer who had gotten into trouble for asking without my dad present, the multiple doctors who had come to see me, and the three nurses who had all wanted to get as close to Robert as his clothes would allow.
Stacy nodded her head, still staring at Graham. "I heard he rode behind the ambulance all the way to the hospital, and stayed until you came home."
I looked back at Graham while I answered her, "Yeah. He was great. He stayed with me in the room the whole time." I could see Graham's hand clench into a fist when I said this, though I couldn't see his face because it was obscured by the chair. I was starting to figure out what Stacy was up to. I wasn't so sure I wanted to travel down this road.
Stacy, on the other hand, wanted to stick to her map. "So are you two, you know, dating?"
I looked at her, unable to answer, because I didn't know. "I think--I think that we're really, really good friends," was all I could come up with. We were more than that--the secrets that Robert had shared with me went beyond anything simple friendship could allow--but as much as I liked Stacy, I wasn't sure that I was ready to go into details about how he made me feel. And most certainly, I wasn't willing to admit to anything with Graham less than five feet away from me.
"Well, he's something else, I'll say that much, Grace. He's handsome, his family's rich from what I've read, and now he's a hero. You'd be pretty stupid not to try and snatch him up before one of the other girls at Heath do. They're like vultures who vomit on their food so others don't get their beaks in it," she said, suddenly staring at her fingernails, as if they were the most important things in the world.
I looked over to the floor to see if Graham was still clenching his fists at his side, but he wasn't there. He was standing directly in front of the coffee table, his eyes very focused, intent. I wasn't sure what to make of it. Maybe he'd hit his head a little too hard on the ground, because his eyes seemed glazed over.
"Are you?" he asked, "Are you going to snatch him up?"
"Why, Graham?" I asked in return, knowing I didn't want to hear the answer. "Why does it matter?"
He looked at his feet then, unable to look at me when he answered, "You said you were in love with me. You can't be interested in someone else so soon."
Stacy scoffed while I stuttered.
"Aww. Is the princess jealous?" she mocked.
I started to take a more adult approach. And then I threw that out of the window and stepped more in line with Stacy. "You tossed me aside, like garbage, Graham, for Erica Hamilton. Erica Hamilton: The biggest witch in the school. You told her things about me, about my life that are private. My secrets, my pain, my suffering, and you told them to her to make yourself look like some kind of saint, martyring yourself for my sake, so that Grace the SuperFreak could have at least one friend in Heath.
"You left me broken and hurt, and you lied to me about NC Prep! You knew you weren't going and you still lied to me! I told you that I was in love with you because it was true. But you know what else is true? You don't love me the same way that I love you. With you, love is a trophy that comes in different sizes, and you're always trying to get the biggest one out there. Mine wasn't the biggest, or the shiniest. For me, love is a ribbon. It doesn't matter what color or size it is, as long as I can pin it to my heart.
"I love you, Graham, so much it hurts me to realize that you do, too, and then know that it's just not enough for me after everything you've done." I didn't realize I had started crying. I felt a tissue being pressed into my hand, felt a comforting hand at my back, and saw the face of someone I had wanted to love me back for so long truly see me for the first time.
Stacy grabbed my hands, using another tissue to pat my now puffy eyes, and said softly. "Do you feel better now that you've finally told him how you really feel?"
I nodded, believing in it. "Graham, I told you that I forgive you, and I do. I do. But I think that you've got to understand that you lost the right to decide who I can and cannot be interested in the minute you decided that Erica was worth more than our entire friendship."
Graham's face looked...somber. He nodded his head, but said nothing. He turned towards the door.
"Graham..." I started, not wanting him to leave, but he held up his hand to stop me.
"Grace, you're very right and you're also very wrong. I need to go; I've got to think about a few things-" he paused and looked at me with a pained expression in his eyes before turning away quickly "-I cannot talk to you about them right now. And not with her here, either. I'll call you," he said, almost to the door more so than to me, and then he was gone. Part of me feared that I had just given Erica fresh material for my soliloquy.
"I say good riddance," Stacy said flatly, again staring at her nails.
"He's been my best friend since we were babies..." I whispered, the hurt from his leaving had come back to crowd my chest. It wasn't alone and was fighting with the other emotions there now. The little war going on inside of me made me feel as though I was drowning.
"Yes, and then he tossed your friendship out the window as soon as he saw that he had to deal with the emotional repercussions of it. Some friend," Stacy replied. "You're better off knowing how he really feels, Grace. Lifetime friendship or not, if he cannot love you the way you want and deserve because he's too busy loving himself, you're just wasting your time."
I knew she was right. I knew that she had had Graham figured out the minute she had met him, while I was still trying to see him through my own self-imposed, rose colored prison. I just kept believing that there was more to him than what he was showing, saying...doing. I had to have hope for him, because even if my heart now beat for someone else, it didn't mean it didn't still ache for what it had once wanted. And now my heart was confused.
What kind of love did it want? The kind that I knew very well, but that had betrayed me as soon as it made itself known? The kind that was unknown and impossible because it was felt for something that was too amazing, too incredible to exist? Or the kind that settles for what it can get, scavenging on the scraps tossed out to it because it knows it won't get better?
I shook my head as Dad's words from the night before came back to me. Sometimes parents suck...especially when they're right.
FAMILY
Stacy left shortly after Graham did. Neither of us had realized the time until Dad had walked in, apologizing for being so late for dinner. He waved at Stacy, kissed me on the top of my head, and walked straight into the kitchen, disappearing to enjoy his dinner with Janice.
She apologized before leaving for what her instigations had caused. She seemed truly remorseful, having seen the hurt on my face and the change in my demeanor, but I tried to reassure her that she had helped me to realize a few things that I might not have done otherwise. Besides, I told her, she was going to
be my teacher soon, and I'd have to learn to get used to her beating me up in some fashion. She had laughed at that, and gave me another hug. This time, it wasn't so awkward.
I considered going to bed right away, feeling so drained after all that had happened, but I needed to take a shower. I was feeling quite grossed out by my own stench, especially what was coming from the casts. I couldn't solve that problem any time soon without being declared a medical miracle and then being turned into some science experiment, so I focused instead on cleaning the rest of me.
I hopped up the stairs to my bedroom and grabbed the pair of cut off sweats that Janice had loaned me after hearing me complain about my boxers being too small to fit over the cast, as well as a tank top, and some underwear, and hopped into the shower. Kept on the hamper that was in there were two black trash bags and four large rubber bands that were used to prevent the casts from getting wet. An ingenious idea of Dad's, I had to say.
Getting into the shower after sealing off my casts, I wondered what would Erica write, what Graham would tell her when he called her tonight, and when I'd see Robert again. What would he say when he learned that I was going to start learning Tae Kwon Do? What would he think when he saw my memories of the past few days with Graham? Would he even come back at all?
That last question scared me; I wasn't even sure that he would come back. All of that arguing with Graham about my affections for someone other than him and there was a chance that Robert might not even return, much less return how I felt about him. I couldn't drive that thought out of my mind. Not even when I got soap in my eyes and it burned so much I thought I'd be permanently blind from it.
When the water ran cold I knew it was time to get out. I shook the right side of my body, trying to get as much water off before stepping out of the shower, and dried myself quickly--the cold water was jump starting the freezing process early.
After dressing in a rush, I hobbled over to my room, my teeth already chattering. I silently cursed Janice and her pregnancy hormones taking control of the thermostat--she swore she was hot even when there was frost on the windows. Dad said nothing, just kept on adding layer after layer of clothing until he could barely sit down, his movements restricted by the thick padding.
I closed my bedroom door and nearly ran to my bed, I was so cold. The comforter on top was frigid, and I knew it would be a while before it started to do its job and offer me some comfort. I could feel the pull of sleep dragging me under as my eyes closed in defeat, the cold accelerating my fall into slumber. And the voice that had filled my dreams since the hit and run was there again...
Are you cold?
I shivered, but not from the cold.
Do you want me to warm you?
I nodded, my teeth biting into the blanket because I was already warm--the voice was fire incarnate. I started to dream. Endless ribbons were flowing all around me, weaving through my legs, around my arms, and through my hair; I was becoming the fabric of my own dreams. The ribbons were closing in on me, pulling tighter and tighter as the mesh grew smaller and smaller. I soon became aware that there had been only one ribbon. Its span had wrapped around me completely, imprisoning me, like a mummy about to be sealed forever in my silken sarcophagus.
I could see one length of the ribbon flowing out past me, its end lost in the horizon of a starless sky. The other end was coiled in a pile by my feet. The end that that was lost to me was being pulled by some unseen force. I felt myself topple, and then I was falling. I unraveled like a yoyo, and then bounced back up like one, too. Up and down, the invisible end of the ribbon was tugging, back and forth--it was a battle for what lay in its confines but why?
Two emerald green beacons flashed at me from the faraway darkness, and I knew who was on that end--I called out his name to stop. He couldn't do this to me awake and also in my dreams! It wasn't right! It wasn't fair!
The other end of the ribbon had run out of slack, and started tugging at me. The force on that end was stronger, more determined, like there was more to lose if it let go. I could feel the tension in the ribbon. I could smell it, taste it; it was potent and strong. And then both ends began their pulling. Both ends pulling for their own reasons, one end cold, with icicles forming on its edges, the other end hot, glowing with its internal heat.
I reached for the warmth when my arms were free, the tugging snapping, shredding threads here and there, weakening the ribbon as the struggle for dominance grew more desperate. And then suddenly I was falling. The ribbon had been severed, one end whole, the other frayed and torn. I was falling, not from the sky, but from the earth. I remembered believing that my world had been thrown off its axis, but this was different; I was right side up, while the world was upside down. I was falling...up.
No. Not falling--floating.
I opened my eyes--his name came out in a sigh because I knew the fire had me. "Robert..."
He smiled at me, his arms cradling me to him; my arms were around his neck and my head leaning against his chest as I held him to me just as securely. Perhaps even more so. We were...we were flying! And we were surrounded, it seemed, by wisps of smoke, gray mixed with white tufts: My angel on a cloud.
I looked down and saw the lights of homes and street lamps twinkling like upside down stars, as if to make up for those that were missing from the sky. And in the cold, starless night, I felt nothing but warmth. I felt no fear of falling, I felt no chill. I was safe with him no matter where we were heading. If nothing else, I was sure of that much.
I watched him, his face serene, his smile satisfied. He was content. In his arms, I felt more than that. I felt--no, I knew without an ounce of doubt in my soul--there was no one who had ever been closer to heaven than I was right then.
I knew it by the way my blood warmed when he pressed his lips against my hair in a reassuring way. I knew it by the way my skin sang when he pressed his mouth against my ear and whispered in French how glad he was that he had been able to steal away sooner than he had originally thought. I knew it by the way it felt as though I would simply float higher if he were to let me go.
When I saw his liquid eyes rippling like a disturbed pool of molten metal, I knew that he could hear my thoughts and it pleased him. He pulled me closer to him, I held on tighter, and neither of us felt satisfied, my human frailty and his divine strength finding no compromise in such an awkward and unyielding position. I finally asked him where we were headed when he started his descent. The gray wisps around us slowly dissipated, and then we were on the ground, his landing so smooth I only realized it when my sock-covered feet curled over cold gravel.
I looked around at the familiar surroundings and knew we were at his family's retreat; a large white tent had been set up on the greens while the gazebo had been decorated with flowers and gauze. There had been a wedding here recently, I surmised, but the guests had long gone, and the bride and groom were off celebrating their first night as husband and wife together somewhere.
The remnants of the celebrations were chaotic, but recorded completely the quick progression and celebration of two individual lives joining together and starting out as one all in the happenings of a single day. The gazebo was calm and serene, where the vows till forever were given. The table where bride and groom had been central figures still contained two champagne flutes; both still half full of the now flat golden liquid, lipstick smeared on the lip of one of them.
All of it was symbolic, in a way, of how things were now with Robert and I. In one day, we'd gone from virtual strangers to tied for life. His secret, which he had shared so willingly, was now mine, and would be until the day I died.
There had been no cake and no gauze, no band playing big band standards, no flower girls asleep on someone's lap, and definitely no champagne.
But there was chili.
I laughed. Yes. There had been chili.
"Why did you bring me here, Robert?" I asked finally, feeling suddenly melancholy as I acknowledged that the circumstances would not allow for any more similari
ties.
He sensed my mood before he'd heard my thoughts. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the center of the tent. "I brought you here because I wanted you to meet my family."
I jerked my head around quickly, wondering if I had missed something. There was no one here but us. I looked up at him, puzzled. "Are they going to show up? Are we meeting them here so late?"
He laughed. "They're already here. Watch. Pay attention. Do. Not. Blink."
I frowned. I had been paying attention. When he pointed towards the bride and groom's table, I took in the glasses of champagne once again, the flowers that had been scattered on the tablecloth in a rush to start dancing, and the tiny stains of food and drink that made for a marvelous harlequin overlay on the bright white linen. I blinked as suddenly, instantly, magically there were no glasses. As if they had disappeared. The only evidence that they had even been there were the rings of moisture they had left on the tablecloth.
I walked awkwardly over to touch the two circles, to reassure myself that those, at least, were real. I was an inch away from feeling the cool moisture on my fingertips when a light, sweetly fragranced breeze rushed around me, touching me gracefully as though someone were hugging me, causing me to jerk back; and then the damask cloth was gone, leaving a bare table in its place.
I whipped around to stare at Robert. He was laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement. I must have looked pretty funny as a partially immobilized, soon-to-be heart attack victim because all around me, the tables that had once been covered in dishes and cloths, flowers and napkins, were all bare, and my eyes kept growing wider, my jaw dropped lower, my heartbeat growing far more irregular.
"Oh." I turned around and saw no movement, just things disappearing. "How...?"