The rest of the afternoon is spent on idle chitchat. What teachers she is hoping to get next year, me explaining which ones she doesn’t, talking about my course load, and how it would be easy this first semester. I need to be sure I can handle college and don’t want to flunk out by Christmas. We try to make a schedule of when we will Skype, FaceTime or whatever but soon realize it’s futile without knowing her schedule. I reassure her it’ll work out and I’ll be home at least once a month.
Dinner with our parents is uneventful, but with my mom teary and the uncomfortable tension I have seeing her parents after our meeting earlier, I have never been so glad to see the playhouse. It’s more cramped in here, and a bit too frilly for me to get comfortable but spending these last few hours together is worth it.
“Twinkle, are you ever afraid of where your life may take you?”
“No, I just don’t want to have any regrets. I want to live life to the fullest and enjoy everything it throws at me. We are only as good as our last adventure.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Saying goodbye. Losing you.”
“Hey, remember with every goodbye there’s always a chance for a hello. You won’t lose me, I promise. You’re engrained right here,” I tell her holding my hand over my heart.
“Love you,” she tells me through her tears.
“Love you, back,” I tell her honestly. I pull her out of the tiny chair and walk her to the door, promising to call her when I get to campus. I refuse to say goodbye, not wanting one of her fears to come true. I just hug her tightly, kiss the top of her head, and give her the biggest, fakest smile I can muster. I may be leaving her tomorrow, but I will always return for her.
Chapter 6
Phoebe
I examine myself in the mirror. I don’t notice a difference in my outward appearance, but I have gotten a lot stronger in the last six months. I’m sixteen now; driving myself wherever I need to go which gives me more freedom than I’ve ever had before; and I don’t have Luke around the corner for me to run to when I need him. I’ve seen him on his breaks: Thanksgiving was just like old times, but Christmas threw me for a loop. I was expecting the Katie Daniels thing; she followed through with her threat and ended up going to USC, so he’s with her every day. I know he’s had sex with her; she loves to brag about it to anyone who’ll listen, but the conversation at the dinner table about another girl … I don’t know, caused me to lose my breath. Luke tried to change the subject, but his mom was adamant she wanted to know all about Lisa. Apparently, the girl answered his phone when his mom called him. I was shocked and even more hurt that he hadn’t told me. Of course, later that night he blew it off like it was no big deal, but I knew he was holding something back. Talking to him that night, I realized how much things had changed between us.
“It’s no big deal, can we drop it?” he begged.
“If she’s important to you I want to know,” I was worse than his mom.
“She isn’t important and you’re beginning to piss me off, Phoebe.” Wow where the hell did that come from?
So in typical fashion, I dropped it. He was a bit standoffish the rest of the visit and left a few days early to go back to campus. Our calls are strained and less frequent, and it’s finally given me the kick in the ass I needed to live my life; one that didn’t revolve around Luke. So here I am, getting ready for my first ‘official’ date, and not with Drake. He’s still around, but as much as I hate to admit it, everyone was right. He’s a shady motherfucker. Currently serving some time in juvie for a car-jacking attempt. Of course, he swears he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he’s bad news, so I’m keeping my distance. Don’t get me wrong, he’s pretty to look at, but I had to admit to myself he’s way too experienced for me, and too rough around the edges. Not the rough around the edges with a heart of gold, just plain rough around the edges. He’s hardened, which is good for him because he’ll likely end up in the state penitentiary.
Tim Lauler, senior, and overall nice guy, is my date for the evening. I’ve had a few encounters with him when he hung out with Luke and his friends, but was shocked when he asked me out for tonight. He seemed a little unsure of himself and that wasn’t the same cocky, joke-cracking guy I’d witnessed many times before. I swipe the lip-gloss over my lips and make my way to the living room to wait for him. I beg my dad to not interrogate him too badly. When the doorbell rings, I’m shocked it’s Luke. It’s a bit uncomfortable. I have no idea why he’s here and not sure how he’ll react to my date.
“Nice to see you, Lucas,” my dad says, reaching to shake his hand.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve gotta be here to interrogate the first guy taking our girl out.” He shoots me a glare mixed with hurt and anger. I can’t believe he’s trying to mess with my date.
“A word, Lucas?” I give him my no nonsense look, and he chuckles at me. Sure, he tries to hide it but you can’t miss the mischief and amusement in his eyes. He follows me to the kitchen where I lay into him. “You came all the way home to fuck with my date. Seriously, that’s a bit much.” I’m pissed and a bit embarrassed that it thrills me he still wants to be here for me.
“Phoebe, calm down. My mom mentioned you had a date, so I called your dad and asked if he needed back up. After all, what are big brothers supposed to do?”
Just like that the winds are knocked out of my sails. Big brother? Never. Not the thoughts I’ve had about him and not after that kiss we shared, that shall never be talked about. “Leave Tim alone. He’s a nice guy.”
“I know. Otherwise you wouldn’t be going out with him.” The nerve of him. Yet, I know he’s right. The pull he has with my dad, it would only take one conversation, and this date wouldn’t take place. I resign myself to the awkwardness that’s about to take place when I hear Tim’s voice. I muster up a smile and walk out to try to make this situation less painful.
Surprisingly, they go easy on him, and we get out without any bloodshed. Dinner is nice, conversation is flowing and then he asks, “What’s up with you and Lucas?”
“We grew up together. He classifies himself as my big brother and best friend.” Those words sting. A lot.
“How do you classify him? It just seems like more. I like both of you and don’t want to step in where I don’t belong.”
“It’s a first date, Tim. Relax, you aren’t overstepping.”
Once I make it home I notice Luke’s truck is gone, and my mom tells me he headed back to school once I left. I call him and get no answer. Three days later, after numerous calls, voicemails, and texts, he finally calls me back. Apparently he had a camping trip with Lisa and some friends, so he was unavailable. It’s the first time in twelve years he has ever been unavailable to me, and it sucked. Yet, it set up the next year and a half. His visits are less frequent and more stilted. We are no longer Luke and Phoebe. We’re virtual strangers, forced to be together because of our proximity and our parents’ friendship. I cried more times in those months than I did in my entire life combined. He hurt me: his callous attitude over what our friendship has become, his unreachable feelings, and the fact he doesn’t even attempt to hide his exploitations of the opposite sex. He’s fucked more girls than Hugh Hefner’s had playmates. It’s disgusting and disrespectful to me, but I still never confront him. I allow it to happen, quietly hoping he will come back to me.
When he missed my performance last week, the most important moment in my dance career, I knew our friendship was nothing more than a fleeting memory to him. I wasn’t expecting anything big from the audition, but I had always promised my mom I would perform. Whether or not I pursued it was left up to me. Auditions were open, and I danced well. I poured my heart and sadness into perfecting the choreography. I was mourning the loss of my relationship with Luke. Saying farewell to the person who held your heart wasn’t a pretty thing. By the end, I had tears in my eyes, and my mom had them streaming down her face. She said I was a shoo-in and needed to make a decision. There was no de
cision to make; I meant what I told him that day in the tree house. I want to be here, teach here, and make my home here. I don’t have aspirations to dance around the world. It was a prestigious chance, and one I didn’t turn my nose up at, a lot of hard work goes into it, coupled with grueling hours and pain. It isn’t my dream, but dancing will always be my passion. It didn’t matter where I did it, as long I was happy with it.
The dreaded senior prom is among us. I remembered the night two years ago, and wondered what it would be like to experience prom with someone I loved. Tim and I remain friends, as most of my dates and I do. We just didn’t have that ‘it’ quality. Nothing wrong with any of them, but there sure as hell is something wrong with me. I want the elusive boy who vanished from my life, and no matter how many times I tell myself to move on, I never do. I picked up the phone a hundred times to ask him if his offer still stands, but I never followed through. Instead, I shopped for my dress with my mom, went to the salon and had my hair done with my friends, and will experience my last high school event with seven other dateless females. We tell ourselves this is our choice, but the truth is the one person each of us wanted to go with, didn’t ask. So, instead of speaking the truth about us being a pile of losers, we cling to the lie that we’ll have more fun with friends.
My mom is armed with her camera, and I don’t begrudge her this moment. I pose, smile, and indulge her every request. This is a night she wasn’t sure she would ever get to take part in, so even when I am seeing spots from the flash going off, I don’t complain. When we move the photo session outside, I stop breathing. Not just an expression . . . I really hold my breath for a few moments when I see Luke’s truck parked in his driveway. He’s perched in a chair on his porch watching me. I lift my hand in an awkward wave, and he tilts his head up at me in response. My dad calls him over and I cringe. I wanted to enjoy this night and now I feel like I may be sick. Every time I see him, the pain never lessons, just comes back full force. I try to pinpoint the moment our friendship changed but come up blank. My mom thinks it will be fun to take a picture of us together.
“Twinkle, you look beautiful,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him.
“Wow,” I sigh. I haven’t heard that nickname in forever. Suddenly, it seems like no time has passed, yet it’s been a lifetime since I’ve felt him touch me. His touch makes my heart flutter, and goose bumps break out on my skin. This feeling never gets old. I smile for a few more shots before the limo pulls up. I extract myself from his arms without a word.
My mom walks over to me with last minute instructions. She and my dad are going out to dinner and to check the progress of his new office building under construction. She lets me know they will both have their cells with them, and I can call for anything. As she hugs me she has a parting comment for me, “Enjoy tonight, Phoebe.” I smile at her, and she wipes away a tear from her cheek. “You may not realize it, and I don’t know what he’s thinking, but it’ll all be okay. Somehow it will all work out.” She nods discreetly towards Luke, “But right now, he’s so stupid I could put his brain in a hummingbird and he would fly backwards up a camel’s ass. But I promise, eventually they all grow up.” I don’t give her a response, tonight is my night, and damn it he won’t ruin this for me.
Prom encompasses every cliché I could have imagined. Streamers, balloons, cheesy slogans. Our theme is perfect for me, “Goodbye to You,” complete with the song playing in the background, which brings Luke to the forefront of my mind. I silently said goodbye to him months ago, thinking there would always be that chance of the next hello he had always promised me. Tonight I say it a little bit louder to my heart, hoping my mind hears it.
When the limo drops me off, earlier than expected because I have decided to avoid the after parties, I’m shocked to see him sitting on my porch steps, head down cradled in his hands and as my steps get closer, I see the tears streaming down his face. In all we have been through, I’ve never seen him cry, or even close to it. I want to turn around and get back in the limo with my friends; I don’t want to hear what he is going to say. I know it will crush me, and he will never be able to take it back. I want to cover my ears, sink as far from reality as I possibly can, because the words he utters, don’t just change the course of my life, they change our entire destiny. They rip the innocence from me. A life without Luke. One without my heart intact.
He pulls me into an embrace, just holding me for what seems like hours before he utters a word. I can tell he’s struggling as I try to prepare myself for whatever comes next. “There was an accident, Twinkle.” He’s choking on his words as he tries to get out the message he’s here to deliver. “God, I’m so sorry.” He shudders against me. “You … your parents. They went by the construction site, and there was an accident.” He sucks in a deep breath and quickly exhales. “They were trapped inside when the building collapsed.” I’m hearing what he’s saying, but the words aren’t registering, “Phoebe, they are gone. Your parents are gone.”
Chapter 7
Luke
I watch her go off to her senior prom, and I vividly remember our argument two years ago. I never fully understood her feelings until tonight when I saw her and realized that another monumental event in our life was happening, and we weren’t sharing it. I’m at my wit’s end with this self-imposed separation. I thought it would be easier on both of us if we didn’t use each other as a crutch and we fully moved on to experience life. I wasn’t doing that per se, but I have to focus on my classes. They’re kicking my ass, and when you are paying for them, it’s hard to get the professors to care. Either way, they have your money … pass or fail. In college it isn’t up to your teacher to mentor you or help you learn, as an adult that is solely up to you. It’s fucking hard, and I have to put everything I have into it. I hate to say it, but worrying about Phoebe is a distraction I can’t afford. In hind sight, I see she wasn’t a distraction and I could’ve gone to her, leaned on her, but I’m supposed to be the strong one. I don’t think it’s fair for her to take on my burdens when I pushed her to spread her wings.
Seeing her audition last week killed me. It almost made me cave right there on the spot, but watching her dance made my resolve that much stronger. She has the talent to go far, and seeing the audience’s reactions to her solo was not a surprise. Everyone was rendered speechless, including the other dancers. She has a gift, and I swear if she doesn’t pursue it, she’s wasting it. I made up my mind and told my parents I wanted to go for my MBA. My two years would be complete this semester, and I would have my business management degree, after taking a light first semester but doubling my course load during summer and a few online classes. Once I got the hang of it, I could focus only on classes and it became easier. I wanted to be able to provide for us and let her dance; I can’t do real estate in New York or wherever we go without connections. It will be a struggle, and I’ll have a lot more coursework, but I will do it.
I have enjoyed the normal college parties, but most of my free time has been spent studying and trying to keep my head above water with my course load. Lisa was never intended to be a long-term relationship, but she was a warm body. Neither of us had expectations for our relationship. We enjoyed dates, parties, and sex. She was going off to med school and knew my heart belonged elsewhere. It was easy with us, no expectations and no promises. We were exclusive, but that was by default, we were both to busy to look elsewhere. I hated Phoebe and my mom thinking it was something more. I had met some cool guys, but our college experiences were different. Our lives were different. Phoebe’s cancer made me grow up fast, and I don’t begrudge her for it. Most of the guys at school are worried about where the next party or pair of open legs is, but seeing life and death at such a young age, made me better prepared for my future. I had one goal in my life . . . spend it with Phoebe.
Not everything was about her. I enjoyed other people, but she was always in the back of my mind. I hoped she was enjoying school, dance, and learning to beco
me a bit more independent. Football days were the best, the entire school was like one big family, coming together and cheering our team on. It was those days I loved, then immediately felt guilty because I hadn’t thought of her, or missed her enough that day. I needed to remind myself I needed to do the same thing I wanted of her . . . to live life. Gain new experiences and grow up outside of each other.
Tonight validated my feelings. Seeing her made my heart speed up and my dick harden. She’s only gotten more beautiful with each year that has passed, and it kills me she’s so guarded. I’m going to rekindle what I threw away and revive friendship, then when the time is right, I will romance the shit out of her and make her fall in love with me, again. If it isn’t what she wants when the time comes, I’ll let her go. Everything I’ve done since I was seven-years-old is with her happiness in mind. I won’t change that now.
I want to take her out on dates, not be just her best friend, but her lover. I want to watch her face as I introduce her to new people I have met at school, and I want her to be proud to be on my arm. We have a familiarity about us, but I want that shaken up. I want to get the sweaty palms and want her to get butterflies in her stomach when she sees me. I want our experiences to be new, throw us out of our comfort zone.
Sitting on the porch, wondering if she’ll come home early or stay out all night, I watch her parents walk hand-in-hand to their car. Both called out a greeting attached to a friendly smile. That relationship is a bit strained, but I know they see the real me. They know my heart and have been an integral part of my life. I get lost in my mind and my thoughts. When I hear the scream from the kitchen, I immediately run inside. My mom is gripping the phone, white knuckled, not speaking. Other than her blood curdling scream, she hasn’t made a sound. My dad extracts the phone from her hand and listens to whoever is on the other end. I watch in agony as his face pales in front of me.
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