by Willow Aster
I laugh. “We’re kids, Jaxson. I’m not even twenty-one yet. You’re twenty-two and aren’t even a hundred percent sure of what you want to do with your life. I’m not knocking it—it’s normal. We have time to know those things. This—we—are not normal.”
“I don’t need to be older to know how I feel. And I’d rather not be normal with you than to be normal with anyone else!” he yells. “You’re breaking my heart, Bells. How can you keep shutting your heart to me? And what can I do to crack it open again?” He puts his head in his hands and rubs his eyes. When he looks at me again in the glow of the porchlight, he looks raw and empty. “Please don’t make me live another day without you. Please,” he says softly. He steps closer and puts his hands on my face. He looks from one eye to another as if willing me to hear him, but I take one of his hands from my cheek, kiss his palm, and walk inside, shutting the door softly behind me.
WHEN MY DAD LEFT, my mom cried every day for a year. I vowed then that no one would ever break me that way. It didn’t work. I’ve been broken more than once, but I keep thinking eventually I’ll learn.
Jaxson is my weakness. He asked how to crack my heart open and he doesn’t realize that he does every single time we’re together. I’m not immune to him, and I’m afraid if I let him in one more time and he breaks me again, I’ll never get over it.
DAVE AND MUM hover over me for the next few days, concerned over my injury, concerned over my state of mind.
“I’ll take off work today, sweetie…keep you company,” Mum says each morning when she wakes me up before she leaves for work.
I roll over and put my pillow over my head. “Absolutely not,” I insist. “Let me sleep, Mum. Go to work.”
Dave checks on me when he gets home from work. “Can I get you anything? Need help getting down the stairs? I can set you up down there…it’ll give you a change of scenery,” he says, trying to get me out of my bedroom.
“I’m good here. I need the space. It’s okay,” I tell him.
I try to withdraw into myself, the place I go when I feel too precarious. But no one will give me peace.
Jaxson texts and calls regularly, checking to see how I’m feeling, and if my ankle is improving as it should. And whatever is on his mind at the time. I want him to leave me alone, but he’s like a persistent fly swarming around in my head. Sometimes I reply, sometimes I don’t.
I THINK that cast makes your leg look extra hot. And my god, imagine when the cast comes off. Your ankle will be abnormally small compared to the other one. I can’t wait for that.
Me: I’m so over this %*@(&@# cast. And you have the wrong number. Perv.
Are you working this Saturday?
Me: Not this week but next. Why?
The guys and I got a last minute gig at Brigley’s Saturday night. You should come. Speaking of work. I didn’t even ask how your job is going.
Me: I still love making people beautiful on the most important day of their life. We stay busy and make way better money than we used to. The occasional D-List celebrity wedding can be surprisingly good money. I can afford to keep Sundays free for homework!
It’s incredibly sexy that you’re pursuing what you love. Also, that was the most appropriate use of an exclamation—great placement, and not three thousand of them.
See, not the wrong number at all.
Me: Weddings will be tricky with this cast. It can be done, but I’ll have to get a stool or something. !!!!!
You sassy bugger!
Liesl will bedazzle the stool if you’re not careful.
Areola.
Me: What?
Just seeing if you’re still here.
Me: Nope.
Can I come over?
Me: No.
BETWEEN HIS RIDICULOUS TEXTS, I reorganize my bookshelves and closet while catching up on Netflix shows. Maddie comes over and we eat ice cream while watching more Netflix. After days of not accomplishing much, I don’t even feel guilty about how bedraggled I look. My hair is a dirty, tangled mess, I’m wearing a pair of old glasses that are crooked, and I haven’t worn makeup since I got back from New York. This is a record for me.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW?
I IGNORE him and keep watching Doctor Zhivago. A box of tissues is clutched to my chest and I swipe my eyes every few minutes. The starkness of the desolate winter and the tragic love between Yuri and Lara are more than I can take. I sob into the tissues but can’t look away. The movie is almost over when the doorbell rings. I ignore it and it keeps ringing and ringing.
Finally, ticked, I pause the movie and stand up, moving as cautiously and quietly as I can with this dumb cast toward the window to see if I can tell who it is.
The ringing stops and then I hear, “I’m coming up.”
“What? What are you doing here?” I twist around in a panic and wince as my ankle doesn’t move along with me as fast as I’d like. I catch a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror and want to die. “Do not come in,” I tell him.
Just as he’s saying, “I’m coming in. If you don’t want me to see anything, cover up.”
When he opens my door, I give him the death stare. “I said ‘do not come in’ and I meant it. How did you even get in?”
He grins. “The key is still where you guys have always hidden it. Listen, you’ve been avoiding me long enough. I’ve tried various approaches with you and letting you stew has not worked well for me in the past. So I’m here.” He shrugs. He takes a closer look at me. “Have you been crying? Bells, what am I gonna do with you?”
“I was watching a sad movie…nothing to do with you, so you can move along.”
“I’ll watch it with you. What are we watching?” He gets on my bed and pats the covers next to him.
“Why are you so annoying?”
“I like to think I’m older and wiser this time around,” he says quietly. “And I’ve always had an annoying streak, right?” He laughs and then frowns when I don’t join him. “We don’t have to talk today if you don’t want to, but I need to be near you.” He pats the covers again and unpauses the movie. “Ooo, did you know that the author who wrote this based Lara on his real-life mistress, Olga?”
“Shhh.”
“Sassy bugger,” he whispers and turns back to the movie, a satisfied smile on his face.
21
PAST
2014
You know what, D? There is a God in heaven and her name is Tyra.
XO,
Mira
AT SCHOOL, I’d always done whatever I could to hide, with exception to my hair and makeup—I never went without those two things in top form once I learned how to do them properly—but the rest of me was usually in baggy, nondescript clothes and I stayed under every radar. I didn’t answer questions unless called on. I didn’t try out for anything, didn’t do any extra clubs. I decided to change that when I went back junior year. I wanted to make sure Tyra was not forgotten.
On the first day, I dressed to kill. Nothing over the top, but more deliberate than I’d ever been. I wore a pair of kickass boots. My jeans were ripped in all the right places and fit like a second skin. My shirt was snug and accentuated my newly discovered waist, which also drew attention to my chest. I had dusted a fine shimmery powder on my skin that gave it a radiant glow, I tried out one of the makeup palettes I’d used on a bride the weekend before and nailed it, and my hair, which I’d always thought was my only redeeming feature, was in top form.
“Go in there looking good and like you know you look good,” I said Tyra’s words to myself in the mirror and walked out the door.
I didn’t have my license yet, so I lost some of my rockstar vibes when my mum dropped me off in front of the school since I’d taken too long getting ready. It felt like every eye turned on me when I started walking to the door. I turned around to see if anyone was behind me when I saw a few gaping mouths and elbows knocking other elbows to see if the person next to them was looking, but it was just me. Tyra would’ve loved this moment.
“Bells? Holy—what did…you look fantastic,” he stuttered. He looked at the guys who were also gawking at me.
“You look fucking hot,” Derek said.
Jaxson hit him in the chest. I rolled my eyes at Derek but bit back a grin at Jaxson.
“That’s no way to talk to Bells,” he said.
Derek laughed. “But it’s true. You look great, Mira,” he added.
“Thanks.”
The guy next to Derek held out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Miles,” he said. “Just moved here, junior…” He motioned to Jaxson. “My stepdad works with his stepdad, so we met in the summer.”
“Oh, my mum must know him too then. She’s one of the agents. Nice to meet you,” I said, smiling. He was really cute. “I’m a junior too.”
His grin widened and my heart skipped a little faster.
Jaxson stepped forward and took my elbow. “Got a minute?” We stepped away from Derek and Miles. “I came over a few times this summer but never got a chance to see you. You doing okay? You look so…different. I can’t believe it.”
“Not as fat, you mean,” I said.
“No! You were never…that’s not what I meant. You’re like, tall now too. You’ve always been beautiful, Mira. And you look…well, I know it’s been really hard since Tyra. I just wanted to make sure you’re really okay. You’re healthy? And you’re, uh…you’re eating, right? I’ve never…seen you this skinny.” He cringed with those last words and ran his fingers through his hair.
I looked at him, incredulous. “Of course I’m eating. I’m trying for healthier choices more often, and yeah, I finally grew taller. Mum always said I’d be a late bloomer. She was, Gran was. As for how I am? I’ve lost my best friend. Twice. I’m doing about as well as can be expected.”
I walked away, his stunned expression lingering in my mind. He had the nerve to think I’d confide in him after all this time? Unbelievable. And what was the deal with him and my mum thinking I’d starved myself? I wasn’t that skinny.
My inner rant threatened to ramble all day, but midway through the morning, I reminded myself of what I’d set out to accomplish this year. I went to the office when I had a few extra minutes and asked to speak to someone about an idea I had. Within minutes, I was speaking to Leigh, the counselor who’d tried to talk to me several times after everything happened with Tyra.
“I’m so glad you reached out to me,” she said. “I’ve thought about you over the summer. How has it been?”
“It’s been hard, but I’m not really here to talk about that,” I told her. “I’ve been thinking there must be ways we can keep Tyra’s memory alive. I can’t talk about her yet. I don’t want to,” I reiterate, just in case she thinks this is a counseling session. “But I need everyone not to forget her. She loved clothes and—” The lump in my throat grew too big to ignore, but I swallowed it down and tried to change the course of the conversation to be about the end result I wanted. It was still so hard. “Everyone should feel their best, whether it’s prom night or at school every day. I’d like to organize clothing donations. We could call it Tyra’s Closet. No one has to spend any money and it’d be a tax write-off. It can be as simple as people around here cleaning out their closets, but I’d also like to visit businesses and clothing stores who might want to donate new items. We can do three big pushes so there are gowns to choose from for Homecoming, Winter Formal, and Prom…but I’d also like to provide things like flannel shirts and nice sweaters…”
I took a breath then and began to worry when Leigh didn’t say anything right away.
“If I need to simplify it, I can, but this—”
“I love the idea,” she jumped in. “Love it. You’ve obviously put a great deal of thought into it, and Tyra’s Closet—that’s perfect!” She clapped her hands together and I laughed. “I know just who to talk to about this. I’m positive she’ll love it as much as I do and will help us get the ball rolling. Can we talk again tomorrow around this time?”
I nodded, a relieved smile stretching across my face. “Yes. Thank you so much.”
My last class of the day was physics and when I walked in, I bumped into Miles.
“Finally! I’ve been hoping to have a class with you all day,” he said.
“Oh!” I rubbed my lips together nervously and then smiled. “Hi.” I groaned inside at how lame I was. “How has your day been?”
We sat next to each other in the back.
“It’s been long. You’re the nicest person I’ve met so far,” he said. “Jax is pretty nice too. You guys go way back, he said?”
“We do, yes.”
“Cool.” He flipped open his notebook and then faced me, elbows on his knees. “Hey, would you want to go get some gelato after this? Compare notes on our classes? I’m addicted to that place on Girard.”
“Um, sure,” I said. “I won’t have my license for another couple of weeks, so I just walk,” I added.
He grinned. “You can ride with me.”
The bell rang and I pulled out my notebook, the thrill of being asked out on my first date—if you could count going for gelato to discuss school a date—doing a crazy dance in my chest.
WHEN CLASS WAS OVER, Miles waited for me to gather all my things and then walked to my locker with me. His locker was across from mine and when we saw that, we smiled shyly at one another. When we had everything, we walked outside. It was one of those perfect days of sunshine with a faint breeze; the fragrance of flowers, salt water, and car fumes wafting in the air.
“I’m this way,” he said.
We walked a few feet and I stopped when I saw Jaxson and Heather walking toward us. Heather had become a pro at schooling her expressions when Jaxson was around. The most I’d heard her say anything negative around him had been at his party so long ago; typically, the times I’d been around them she’d done a good job of acting. When she saw Miles, she smiled so big.
“Hey, Miles. How was your first day?” she asked.
I did an inner eye roll. Figured they were already friends by now.
“Great. I met Mira. Survived lunch…” He laughed.
Jaxson looked between Miles and me, his expression cloudy. I couldn’t tell if he was mad or constipated. Maybe hangry.
“We’re going to Bobboi…no practice today for once,” Miles said.
“You play football?” I asked.
“Oh, we were thinking of doing that too,” Jaxson said at the same time.
“We were?” Heather asked.
“We should join you.” Jaxson nodded.
Miles looked at me, lifting his eyebrows in question.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Jaxson was almost perky now.
What are you doing? I lasered in on him and he just grinned.
I didn’t say anything. This wouldn’t count as my first date after all.
WE ONLY HAD a few minutes to talk on the ride, but Miles was easy to talk to.
“I’ve never lived near the beach,” he said. “Do you surf? I’ve always wanted to try.”
“It’s been a while, but yes, I do. You’ll catch on fast and love it, I’m sure. Where did you move from?”
“Maybe you could teach me,” he said, glancing at me quickly then back at the road.
I smiled. “Maybe.”
“We’ve moved around a lot. My mom and I. But the last place was Indianapolis, Indiana. She met my stepdad at a wedding a year ago—he had just moved here—and they got married at the beginning of the summer.”
“A whirlwind relationship. Do you get along well with him?”
He shrugged. “It’s been an adjustment, but yeah, he’s pretty nice.”
We parked and I reached for the door handle, but my door was opened first.
“There you are,” Jaxson said
, holding out his hand to help me out.
“Why are you being so weird?” I said under my breath.
He looked hurt. “I’ve missed you, Bells.”
I shook my head and stepped past him, moving in step with Miles.
“What do you usually get here?” Miles asked.
“I love the pistachio,” I answered.
“Hmm. I’ll have to try that one today.”
Jaxson sighed heavily on the other side of me and I looked at him. “What?” He looked at me like I should be able to read his mind, but I wasn’t in tune with his thoughts anymore.
Heather scooted between us, and we ordered our gelato then took it out to the deck where we could see the beach nearby.
“I love it here,” Miles said, scooting his chair closer to mine. “Mira, did—”
“Miles, did you have fun at that party the other night?” Heather interrupted. “You and Danielle were cracking me up.”
Miles looked like he was trying to remember what she was talking about and then laughed. “Oh yeah, I had to loan her my sweatshirt. She got pizza everywhere! That reminds me—she never gave that sweatshirt back.”
I knew what Heather was doing, but the guys seemed oblivious.
“She thinks you’re hot. Might not ever get that sweatshirt back,” she said, licking her spoon in a way that usually got the guys around her to do whatever she wanted.
Why did it always work? I shoved my spoon in my mouth and realized Miles had turned to look at me instead of her. He put his hand over his eyes and discreetly made a face in my direction, which made me giggle. Maybe it didn’t work on everyone.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said, smiling at Miles.
Jaxson leaned his elbows on the table, studying both of us. He hadn’t taken a single bite of his gelato from what I could tell. “My mum said you got a job, Mira. Where is it?”
I pointed at the cute salon next door to us. “Right there. And then I do makeup for weddings on the side with the owner. I really love it.”
“That’s so great. I’m happy to hear it,” he said, and he looked genuinely pleased.