The Breakup Artist

by Shannen Crane Camp

  His smile and complete understanding of exactly how I felt at that moment caught me off guard. I couldn’t understand how I could know someone for such a short amount of time and still be so completely in tune with him. “Thank you,” I said with a small, sad smile. I wasn’t feeling happy by any stretch of the imagination, but David’s mere presence kept me from feeling completely lost. I figured that once he left and I was really all alone, I’d have some sort of breakdown and that was something I definitely wasn’t looking forward to.

  Miraculously enough, I finished all of my homework in an hour. I didn’t think I’d be able to concentrate with so much on my mind, but David’s insistence that we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to, and the continual sounds of him cooking kept me on track. By the time I packed up my completed homework, David had cooked some sort of baked chicken and mashed potatoes dish. He brought the plate to me along with a glass of juice and sat down opposite me at the table.

  “I didn’t know you could cook,” I said hoarsely. My voice seemed to be rebelling from the hour of crying and the hour of not speaking.

  “Well, I guess there’s the first answer to our twenty questions then,” he said with a warm smile. “Do you want to keep going or should we take turns?”

  “Your turn,” I answered simply.

  “All right.” He stopped for a moment, taking a sip of juice while thinking of what to ask. I figured he was trying to think of something he could ask me without bringing up the events of earlier today. “What do you want to study at college?”

  “Marriage counseling,” I said with a small laugh. The poor boy had tried so hard to avoid bringing up any unpleasant memories, and here he had asked the question that would lead right into that horrible discussion.

  “Oh,” he said awkwardly, which made me actually smile. I figured I’d relieve the situation instantly and ask him the question I’d asked before.

  “So are your parents divorced or still together?”

  “Still together. Have been for years,” he said vaguely. I raised an eyebrow at this. It was sad, but I was always more shocked to find out that a couple was still together than I was to find out that they were divorced.

  “When did your parents get divorced?” he asked me. I guess since I had opened that up as an acceptable topic I should have expected that question.

  “I don’t know that they ever really did,” I said honestly. “My father just kind of left when I was six. I don’t know if they ever made it official. My mom hasn’t said a word about him since that day, and I haven’t had any desire to bring it up with her . . . especially now,” I mumbled. David gave my foot a little nudge under the table, and I quickly went on with the questioning. “So what do your parents do?”

  “Well, my mom works from home. She makes jewelry and sells it online. And my dad is a science professor over at the university in Camarillo.” I smiled at him. I could just imagine David having dinner at home with his parents—having pleasant conversations about things that had nothing to do with older married men. “You know the university where my dad works used to be a mental hospital. I guess that’s fitting, since once we go to college we’ll pretty much be losing our minds.” This made me laugh. It was a real, genuine, happy laugh, and I loved David for bringing it out in me.

  By the time we finished our dinner, it was starting to get late. I wondered when David would decide to go home. I didn’t want to make him feel obligated to stay with his sad, emotionally damaged girlfriend, but I also didn’t want him to leave, knowing that when he did I’d have too much time to think about the things I’d seen today and I might lose it.

  I insisted on doing the dishes since he had made dinner, so he sat on the couch in our living room with his laptop in front of him. He was typing just as intensely as he had been at lunch when I finished the dishes. I could see a document open on his screen, filled with writing, but I didn’t want him to catch me looking over his shoulder and think I was spying on him so I cleared my throat to make my presence known.

  “Do you need to call your parents or anything?” I asked as I sat on the couch next to him. He closed his computer and slid it under the couch before handing me the remote to the TV. He knew me too well already. I really needed anything that could let me empty my brain of all significant thoughts, like watching TV for hours on end.

  “I already did. I told them I’d be out late tonight and that I might stay at a friend’s.” He looked over at me questioningly, asking if it was all right in that one expression.

  “Good,” I said simply, happy that I wouldn’t be left alone with myself. After a few episodes of old black and white TV shows, David apparently felt it was time to talk.

  “So are you all right?” he asked, and I instantly knew what he was asking about.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I never wanted you to know that my home life was so . . . just . . . messed up.” I looked over at him and I could feel the burning in my eyes again. “Sometimes I go a week without even seeing my mom once.” I sighed in resignation as a hot tear slid down my cheek.

  “Amelia, it’s not like I’m going to judge you because of that. I just want to be able to make you happy.” He put his arm around me, and I let my head rest on his shoulder. As I closed my eyes and took in his scent, I was overcome with just how exhausted I was. If I had any more emotionally stressful days, I’d have to start getting more sleep. My breathing slowed as a heavy lethargy rolled over me.

  “Are you tired?” he asked, though his voice seemed distant.

  “Mmhmm,” I answered wordlessly. I could feel David moving beside me, but I wasn’t quite sure what exactly he was doing. After a little jostling I knew that he was lying behind me with an arm draped over my shoulders. I took his hand and held it against me like a blanket. Then I let myself fall asleep in his arms.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Amelia?” I heard a soft, familiar voice whisper in my ear. I could feel a warm body beside me and the weight of an arm resting over me, which made me smile. David even smelled wonderful in the morning. I nestled my head against his chest and breathed him in, keeping my eyes closed in an attempt to fall back asleep. “Amelia?” came the voice again. “Amelia, we’re late for school . . . really late for school.” The words spoken by the voice vaguely registered with me, but I knew they were something I should be reacting to. As much as I tried to stir panic within me, I just couldn’t seem to pull myself out of this comfortable place.

  “How late?” I mumbled against David’s neck.

  “Let’s just say that if we don’t leave now, we’ll be in danger of walking in late to our second class . . . first period’s already over.” Now I was awake, but still, there was just no room for panic right now. I’d spent a lot of last night crying, and the whole ordeal had just worn me out, so to wake up next to David was the best possible feeling in the world at the moment. I didn’t want to wake up in an empty house with a note from my mother lying about where she was.

  I yawned and pulled myself closer to him so that we were completely entwined together. “I don’t want to get up,” I whined wearily, letting my foot rub against his. I could hear him laugh softly at this protest, and he began to move. I knew he was getting up, but I just didn’t want to have any part of that. “If we walk in late to our second class we’ll be drawing more attention to ourselves,” I said reasonably. “We should go in during lunch when lots of other students will be leaving and returning to campus.” I waited for his response, now finally opening my eyes.

  David’s shaggy blond hair was sticking up in various directions, and his cheeks looked a bit stubbly, but his green eyes were just as bright as ever. I didn’t even want to think about what I looked like. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “I guess that makes sense.” I had won. It was a nice feeling, and I celebrated the victory by giving him a small kiss. It felt somewhat scandalous that I had woken up in the arms of this boy and was now kissing him while lying on the couch, but I knew it was innocent, so it
didn’t bother me. He smiled at me and pulled me against him so I could rest my head on one of the throw pillows on the couch. Our faces were just inches away, and he rested his forehead against mine.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked after a moment of silence.

  “I’m more tired than anything,” I admitted. We must have gotten a good ten hours of sleep, but I felt more exhausted than when I’d fallen asleep the night before.

  “Well, then why don’t you get some more sleep and I’ll make some eggs . . . do you like eggs?” I nodded happily and closed my eyes once more. He gave me the smallest of kisses and stood from the couch, allowing me to spread out. We didn’t have a particularly large couch, and it felt good to be able to stretch my arms and legs. I could only imagine how poor David had to feel. I’d slept on his arm all night, which couldn’t have been too amazingly comfortable for him.

  I fell in and out of a light sleep and was eventually awakened by a wonderful smell. When he’d said he was going to make eggs, that must have been a code word for eggs, bacon, and toast, because there was a lot more going on in the kitchen than just eggs. I stood up groggily and made my way to the bathroom to do some damage control before going back into the kitchen. Looking in the mirror I was met with a frightening sight. My hair was everywhere, my face had little red splotches from being warmly nestled against David, and my eyeliner made me look like a raccoon. Sleeping in my clothes had been uncomfortable enough, but the collar of my shirt had left deep red lines all over my neck, no doubt from my constant wriggling during the night. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face, which at least got rid of the red splotches and makeup. Then I ran a brush through my untamed hair and pulled it back into a short ponytail.

  Feeling that this was as good as I would be able to look on such short notice, I made my way into the kitchen where David already had two plates of food set up for us, complete with glasses of orange juice. I wasn’t quite sure where he had found all of these ingredients, but then again my mother and I never cooked. We lived on take-out food and leftovers. Who knew that so much could be made with whatever we had stored in our cupboards?

  I breathed in the aroma of the freshly made food and gave David a satisfied smile. “I still can’t believe you can cook so well,” I said as we began to eat.

  “I can’t really do much. Just basic stuff,” he answered modestly.

  “My cooking skills extend to reheating . . . and that’s all. So that makes this pretty impressive.” He looked down at his food, but I saw a pleased smile on his face, which I pretended not to notice.

  We talked about our upcoming date on Friday and conveniently stepped around any conversation having to do with the events of the previous day. When we had finished breakfast I told David I’d get the dishes so that he could run home to change his clothes and meet me at school. We had a brief farewell on the doorstep, and I went back into the house to take care of the breakfast dishes. I couldn’t believe how everything had turned out all right after what I’d seen yesterday. I still wasn’t ready to really mentally examine the ordeal, but I felt that I had a secure enough grasp of the situation that I wouldn’t break down anymore.

  David had been such a help both intentionally and unintentionally that I couldn’t seem to comprehend just how much he was beginning to mean to me. I tried to ignore the little nagging possibilities that this couldn’t last forever and that we would someday join the ranks of failed high school relationships, but it made me wonder if that was how everyone felt. Surely David and I had a special relationship, far above the ones I had helped to destroy. But what if that wasn’t the case? What if all relationships started out with that same exciting hope that maybe you’ve actually found something special? Did that make me a bad person for destroying what little spark of hope these people had? Was I just an embodiment of social failure because I wasn’t able to interact normally with other people? And had I made it my life’s work to bring them down with me?

  That had certainly never been my intention, but what if through all of my self-assurance that I was helping people, I’d actually become something bad? These thoughts were exactly the reason I needed David around. I didn’t think so much about these kinds of things when he was with me. But then again, did that mean I was simply using him as a convenience? Did I want him because he fixed something in me? Wasn’t that what made people love each other? They found their missing piece, the person who completed them, and they wanted to stay with that person so they could continue to feel whole?

  The deep thoughts were beginning to wear me out, so I quickly finished the dishes, trying to keep away thoughts about the meaning of life or the secret to immortality. Then I made my way to my bedroom to change. I looked through my closet to pick out what I’d wear to school that day and realized I didn’t have a job and could wear whatever I wanted. In fact, I could wear whatever I wanted for the rest of my life. I would actually have to develop a sense of style, which was a daunting task. After sixteen years of having no personality to speak of, I suddenly had to develop an entire persona. This was going to be difficult.

  I looked through my many different styles of clothing and tried to find one that jumped out at me as being appealing. Nothing really seemed to grab my attention, sadly, and so in the end I wound up with blue jeans and a black tank top with my black and white canvas shoes. It was a boring selection, but it was all I could think of to wear. I tried to place this clothing choice into a category, but I couldn’t seem to pin it down. It was kind of a mixture between punk, artsy, and classical. Then again, I guess I didn’t need to attribute a label to myself to feel secure. I could just be Amelia and live with that.

  I got to school about halfway through the lunch period, which was perfect, because some students would be streaming back in from the pizza place across the street by now. I made my way past the large statue of a knight in the main quad and over to the library where David was sitting, wearing blue jeans and a light blue, slightly distressed T-shirt. He grinned at me as I approached and, despite my best efforts to keep a straight face, I smiled back at him.

  “Long time no see,” he said as I sat down next to him. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry, but I didn’t really get anything for lunch since we just ate . . . did you want something?” I found it endearing that he thought of every little way to make me comfortable.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “So is this what you wear when you’re being yourself?” he asked, looking me over with approval.

  “I’m not sure. It’s going to be an adjustment having to dress myself based on how I actually feel that day. I swear, it took me an hour to settle on jeans and a tank top.” I shook my head at the absurdity that something so normal and effortless seemed to be so difficult for me.

  “Well, I think it looks great, but I was wondering, now that you don’t have to continually dye your hair anymore, what color do you think you’ll settle—oh . . . Nate’s coming over here,” David said, cutting himself off mid-sentence. I looked over toward the quad to see Nate striding over. I couldn’t read by his expression if he had already talked to Karen’s mom or not. To be completely honest, I had completely forgotten about the whole situation until that very moment. When he was within earshot, I tried to put on an encouraging smile, hoping he was coming to deliver good news.

  “Hey Nate, what’s up?” I asked. A small smile was resting on his lips so I figured the news couldn’t be all bad.

  “I talked to Karen’s mom last night. I know I was supposed to wait until today but I couldn’t. I just wanted to sort things out already and . . . well, I couldn’t help myself.” This report was nice to hear, but completely pointless until he actually told us how it went. Not wanting to deter him from his train of thought, though, I simply nodded encouragingly, willing him to continue. “She was really mad at first. I thought I’d completely messed things up, but after Karen calmed her down, we explained everything. We told her about all of the precautions we’d taken, about how Karen wouldn’t mind going
back to being homeschooled if it meant we’d be able to stay together.” He stopped there, which was amazingly frustrating.

  “And?” David and I asked in unison.

  “And she said that as long as Karen agrees to be homeschooled and we run all dates by her first, she thinks it could be all right.” Nate seemed ecstatic with this news. It had apparently been quite an effort for him to keep the smile from his face while telling us the story so that he didn’t spoil the ending.

  “That’s wonderful, Nate,” I said enthusiastically. The situation may still be a bit overbearing for my taste, but at least they were happy.

  “I know!” he agreed wholeheartedly. “Thanks so much for helping,” he added sincerely. “I’ll have to remember to repay you someday,” he said as he turned to leave.

  “Wait!” I said suddenly, remembering that I hadn’t actually broken them up. I fished my wallet out of my backpack and pulled out the fifty dollars Karen had given me. “Can you give this back to Karen?” I asked, holding the money out to Nate’s retreating form.

  “I’ll repay the fifty dollars myself, and you keep that as a thank you from me. Besides, what you did for us is worth more money than that,” he conceded happily. And with that, he was gone, walking with a bounce in his step back to the cafeteria.

  “Well, I’d say that was a nice way to end your career,” David said, looking at me.

  “It is, isn’t it?” I hadn’t quite expected the end of my career to be such an easy transition. I’d always expected that I would miss something once it was over, that I’d feel empty or sad that the one constant in my life was no more. None of these feelings came, though. I felt completely at terms with my life and the changes it had taken for the better. I had David, I actually might have made friends with Nate and Karen, and everything was just fine. There was the problem of my mother and how she chose to spend her free time, but I suspected that I’d just have to accept that my mother and I would never understand each other. It was a sad reality, but it was one I could learn to live with.