by Jolene Perry
I’ve gone back to group therapy each and every week—there’s only two left. Being the silent girl suits me. Last week I was tempted to say something when a girl younger than me started talking about how she shouldn’t be there, but I kept my mouth shut.
Dad has started to ask me if I’m ready to see Shawn. He thinks it’s important. I do not. I know it’s a subject that won’t be dropped.
I think about Luke every day. It’s better, but it still hurts. I’m terrified to write him or call him, which sucks on a million different levels. It sucks on the friendship level, and it sucks because I love him in a way I didn’t recognize until I’d made a mess of everything.
Life simply continues. I just want so much more. Something is missing and I don’t know how to fill the hole.
~ 23 ~
I fiddle with my phone like I always do at the beginning of group. Luke and I have started sending each other texts – it started with mine because I had to break the silence:
RONNIE: Saw a 6 year old girl with the same t-shirt as you. She loves the Powder Puff Girls.
He responded a few hours later.
LUKE: I refuse to be swayed from my love of little girl t-shirts.
This is what all our texts are like—just simple, funny observations—nothing serious. I smile when there’s a new one from him.
LUKE: Cafepress tees. I’m in love.
We only text every couple days, but we’re talking, and right now that’s all I need. It doesn’t fill the hole left by Luke’s absence, but it makes it hurt less.
The hum of voices as people file into class gets louder, and as I look around I realize that I know everyone’s name, and I’m sure most people know mine. We say names every week, mostly because we have someone new every week. It’s shocking in its own way. Are there this many assholes? And this many girls like me? It may be just a few weeks but, really, the class just sort of continues on and rotates. Sort of like the women here.
My heart’s suddenly hammering so hard I don’t think I can breathe. I know what she’s about to ask. Do we have anything to share?
“Does anyone have something to share today?”
“I’m supposed to see Shawn this week.” It blurts out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“Have you seen him?” Cynthia asks. She’s our “moderator,” but really she’s a shrink like Dad.
“Not since the night he was arrested.” I shake my head. I focus on her, but then my eyes travel around the circle. “It’s like I hope I’ve learned enough or changed enough to do it.”
“Take someone with you,” Robin suggests. She’s a pale woman with raven-black hair; unreal beauty and I can’t imagine anyone hurting her. “I was okay until I left.”
Carol, Kelsey and Jen all nod. I’ve never taken in their faces before, not really—I only look up when I have to. Facing Shawn seems really, really stupid.
But they’ve all done it. Guess I can too.
And then my turn is over, and we’re listening to someone else’s story. Not so bad. Not so horrible. I might even come back after my last week. Once or twice.
~ ~ ~
Mom wants to visit Diane. Dad wants me to see Shawn. Closure.
The word makes me want to gag.
We pull up to the facility and it’s a beautiful March day. Weird. Shouldn’t it be windy or hailing or snowing or something? Even though it’s Sacramento in March?
I don’t want to go in, don’t want to talk, don’t want to see him, but my legs pull me out of the car and walk me across the parking lot, my heart hammering louder with each step.
I stop before we go through the front door and turn to Dad. “Really?”
He stands a good ten feet from me. “If you want to leave we’ll get in the car and go.” He takes a long pause, letting me soak in his words. “But that’s not like you.”
I clench my jaw. “Cheap shot.” He’s right. If I turn around here, I’m a coward.
He chuckles behind me as I jerk open the door.
It’s so normal in here. There’s a front desk and chairs and a few wooden doors leading somewhere. Somewhere that houses Shawn.
I stand and rest my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Yeah, this is me, Ronnie, here to see my ex-boyfriend. And yeah, I’m the reason he’s here. Totally relaxed. No big deal. Right. Just because my heart’s pounding and my lungs can’t find enough oxygen doesn’t mean I’m nervous. I’m totally cool. This is all okay.
Time means nothing as we wait in this white, sterile room. I don’t sit. Just stand. There’s too much nervous energy bouncing around in here for me to do anything else.
We’re led back to a common area and there he is. Just like that. He’s sitting in a chair, ‘Shawn-style.’ His jeans fit him just right and his white t-shirt is snug across his chest. I resist the urge to reach out and hold Dad. He stops behind me and lets me walk forward. Shouldn’t there be guards or something? A glass wall? Protection?
A guy in worn khakis and a plastic nametag hanging on a lanyard leans against the wall near Shawn. Guess he’s my protection.
“Hey,” I say, stuffing my hands in my back pockets, when really I want them wrapped around my front.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come.” He folds his arms across his chest.
“Dad made me.” Shawn looks the same, but I know now that most of what I saw in him is what I wanted to see—as much memory as the present.
“Right.” Shawn smirks with narrowed eyes. “Cause he’s into all that touchy-feely stuff, too.”
I sit in the chair that faces him ‘cause I’m Ronnie, and I’m totally relaxed. Right. Relaxed, and still having a hard time with breathing, which is supposed to be a reflex. “This is so weird. I don’t know what to say.”
“Then it kind of seems like a wasted trip, huh?” He’s giving me the face he used to give his parents when he was annoyed. The one he tries to make unreadable.
I’m not sure what to make of it. Luke was right. The boy who kissed away my cherry lips isn’t here. There’s probably almost nothing left of the boy I fell in love with. It’s so sad. I wonder if even Shawn realizes what he’s lost.
“I don’t know.” Is it wasted if I don’t know what to say?
“How’s Luke?” I hate this face from him. This angry, frustrated face. I hope things change for him, get better, because right now he seems worse. Being here is supposed to make him better.
“I have no idea.” I can’t sit back in the chair. My knees press together in front of me and my hands clasp together tightly.
His brows go up. He can’t hide his surprise at that. “Mom wants me to finish my senior year in here.”
“Is that what you’ll do?” I ask.
“Probably.” He nods.
“Oh.” This means no court. No testifying. No pointing him out behind the defense table. “Thank you.”
“What does it have to do with you?” His brows come down.
“I just…it would be hard, you know. To testify.”
He sits back. “Yeah, well. Try living in here, Ronnie.” His posture is relaxed, but I know Shawn well enough to know every muscle is tight. “It’s not exactly fun times.”
Dad tenses behind me.
“I didn’t put you in here, Shawn. You did.”
His face softens, and suddenly the Shawn I remember is here.
We stare at one another for a moment, so much between us. What feels like a lifetime of experience hangs in the air.
“Is this where we are? I never thought you and I would be fighting like this.”
Crap. Sympathy tugs inside my chest. It would almost be easier if he kept on his angry mask. I stare at my lap, unsure of what to do. “How’s your dad?”
I glance up and realize immediately it wasn’t the thing to say. He scowls. “Are you just trying to throw all the shitty parts of my life back in my face?”
“No.” I shake my head. “That wasn’t…I was just—” Crap. There’s probably nothing I can say to appease him right now.
“Screw you, Ronnie. You didn’t try to stand by me earlier. I don’t know what would make you suddenly start now.” His jaw flexes.
I open my mouth to apologize, but I just don’t think I have it in me to apologize to Shawn anymore. His life may have gone to crap, but it happens to people all the time. I stand up. Wow. Check me out. I’m just going to walk away. Walk out. And I’m okay with this. More importantly, I can do this.
“See you Shawn.” I smile just slightly, turn and walk back towards the door we came in. Dad follows. I don’t look back. I know Shawn just well enough to know he’s still scowling. He knows the old Ronnie who would have turned around with a sympathetic face and called or written to apologize for something that wasn’t her fault. I’m not that girl anymore, and he’s a pale, pale shadow of the boy I fell in love with—more bitter than I ever imagined him being.
“Are you glad we went?” Dad asks, as we step outside.
Glad? Glad… “I don’t think that’s the right word, Dad.” I stand next to his car waiting for him to unlock the doors. “But I feel good, you know? Like if he can’t get to me anymore, I’ll be okay.” I’m sad for Shawn. It’s like it took me this long to realize I lost the boy I used to love and that he might not ever come back. And it is a loss.
Maybe one day he’ll find that guy again, and the girl he chooses to be with will be lucky to have him. Or, maybe he’ll end up like his dad. Either way, I know I don’t want him anymore. And that doesn’t give me the relief I want it to. It makes my breath hitch and my knees feel weak. It’s really gone and over. Done.
“You’ll be more than okay, Ronnie,” Dad says. “You’ll always be more than okay.”
And the women were right. I needed someone here. Just for this, just for after. I throw my arms around Dad and exhale. I need someone to help fill the hollowed out feeling in my gut.
~ ~ ~
SHAWN
I have no clue why Ronnie came. I stare at the white ceiling in my tiny, shitty room. I’m locked back up again because they’ve labeled me as a guy who might not play well with others. Like I’m in kindergarten.
Actually. I do know why Ronnie came. Her father probably dragged her here. Did she think it would make me feel better? Seeing someone who doesn’t want me anymore? See the person who is the reason I’m locked up in this shithole for the rest of my senior year?
No. She’s actually not the only reason.
My dad turned into an asshole and decided he didn’t care enough about me or Mom to stop being an asshole. Instead of helping Dad, Mom kicked him out. And instead of helping me, she took Ronnie’s side and begged me to plead guilty and take the deal from the DA.
It’s all bullshit.
I’m not going to give Luke the satisfaction to answering any of his damn letters, and the next time Ronnie wants to see me, I’m going to say no.
The second I’m out of this place I’m going as far away from California as I can get.
~ 24 ~
I step inside the house after school. It still amazes me that there are only weeks left in my senior year.
Dad’s voice carries from the backyard. “Don’t work yourself into the ground.” He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure we’ll head out there. I’m trying to take a long vacation from work, but we’ll see what happens…if I worked three days a week I might manage the whole summer, but it’s not like we’ll even see you with that crazy schedule of yours.”
I stand still as stone in the entry. Who is he talking to? And why can’t I take a deep breath?
“I’m really glad you called, Luke. I miss seeing you around. I don’t want to get in the middle of anything here. I know she misses you, but I’m glad she has this time on her own.”
The walls close in. The ceiling comes down. I’m in a box with no air. It’s awesome and horrible that he’s talking to my dad. It’s like he’s right here. On the phone, his warm, smooth voice, his dimples, wide smile and golden eyes. But I don’t get it. Him. Not even his voice.
I drop my pack on the floor and lean against the wall. His smile, his words on the night we met by accident outside— “my attention is divided” and then later— “I wasn’t acting,” and the way I crushed him in my driveway after he laid everything out for me to see. “I love you so much that I can’t imagine myself with someone else.”
I have this weak, shaky, heart-pounding fear that I’ll never get another chance with him.
Because, I, Ronnie Bird, blew it.
“Well, I hope to talk to you again soon… thanks for the call.” Dad’s voice gets lower.
Dad steps through the back door into the house and slides the phone into his pocket. His face falls as our eyes meet.
“How is he?” I ask. “Did he call for me?” But that’s kind of a silly question since he called Dad’s phone and not mine.
Dad lets out a breath and his eyes flit to the floor before meeting mine again.
Frustration and anger start to build. I don’t know if I’m mad at me, mad at Dad, mad at Luke, or just mad at everyone “Look, it’s not like you can hide who you were talking to. I’m just asking you one stupid question!” My jaw trembles and I hate my stupid chin. It’s like a sign to Dad—your daughter’s about to cry so you’d better give in.
“He’s buried himself in work and school.”
Nice. Trying to protect me in the most ridiculous way possible. And working to death. Just like his dad. Do all sons have to inherit their father’s weaknesses?
I need my room.
“Ronnie, wait. We should talk.” Dad takes a step forward.
I don’t speak. I just hold up my hand between us as I start down the hall. My door slams, my iPod speakers get turned up, and my body becomes a small ball on my bed.
~ ~ ~
When I wake up part of me finally realizes I really, actually, probably won’t get Luke. And it sucks. And it hurts so bad it’s hard to breathe, but I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I’ll get through this just like I’ve gotten through everything that’s happened this year. I’ll just keep moving forward.
I don’t know what to say in texts to Luke, so I don’t send any. The last bits, or the beginning bits of communication between us, are cut off.
~ ~ ~
Arsenic and Old Lace is a huge success, and I’ve found a serious passion for acting. It’s something I’m good at, that I like doing. This doesn’t mean I have any idea what I’m going to do in college, but that doesn’t matter either. I’m okay with going and working towards whatever I decide on later.
I ask Curtis to Prom. One, I know he’ll go with me. Two, I know we’ll have fun. He’s tall enough that I can wear my heels, and knows I have no interest in dating him. We kiss at the end of the night because it seems like you shouldn’t end a prom date without a kiss. That, and he keeps teasing me because he never got his kiss while he was Romeo’s understudy. Because Luke never missed a rehearsal. Not once.
Graduation is a flurry of excitement; filled with cheesy speeches and Mindy and I making fun of the people in our senior class before they’re all gone and we can’t anymore. We use our notebook to make predictions about what our friends will be doing with their lives at our ten-year reunion. She’ll be working this summer and will also be hooked to Paul.
Apparently all he had to do was give her some space for her to fall head over heels crazy in love with him.
I’m leaving to spend the summer at the beach house. The whole summer. One mile from the boy I still love who might not want to see me.
~ 25 ~
LUKE
It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life. All my words. My soul. Me once again offering everything to a girl that I’m not sure wants it. My finger hovers over the keyboard as my heart pounds, and I hit send. And then again. And then again. She’ll be here tomorrow. Months of letters spill into cyberspace, and I’m not sure if I feel heavier or lighter, but I’m changing. More of my truth is out there for her to see, and no matter what happens in the end, I need her to see it.
<
br /> ~ ~ ~
RONNIE
Every mile further from home is another mile closer to Luke—and uncertainty. We weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow, but after some pleading on my end we took off, knowing it’ll be dark when we arrive. I sit sideways in the backseat, my new iPad on my lap, and scroll through emails. One from Luke comes up.
My heart jumps and I open it.
Ronnie –
I love you. I want to drive to your house and hold you. I can’t believe that jerk put you in the hospital! It’s like my insides are being torn out from the thought of it. But I don’t know if you want me there, or if I can handle another rejection from you. I guess…know I’m thinking about you and love you as much as I always have.
Love, Luke
That’s bizarre. That whole situation was months ago. I check the date on the email. It’s dated a few days after my last email to Luke, the one where I told him about Shawn in jail and everything. Has he kept it all this time? Maybe he knows we’re coming.
I close out of Luke’s email and there are three more from him waiting in my email inbox. My heart starts to race.
The next email is more of the same. When I refresh, there are four more emails.
I check the dates. All old. In order. Starting after the day I first emailed him, Luke wrote me nearly every day. Every. Day. For how long? I sit for a moment and hit refresh on my email account, four more.
I start to read, realizing that he knows I’ll be there tomorrow and he wanted me to have these before I came. My heart’s hitting inside my ribs, full of hope and excitement and forcing a ridiculous grin to spread across my face.
… I think I get it. Why you couldn’t say yes that night. It wasn’t a fair way to tell you how much I loved you. It’s just that I’d been holding onto it for so long, it had to come out… I should have given you more time…
…I hope Shawn’s never let out. He doesn’t deserve to be…