Heart on a String

by Susan Soares

  “Hey,” he said, his voice hot and husky.

  I sat up and lifted my T-shirt over my head, exposing my bra. The air rushed the skin of my naked belly, and it sent a chill through me.

  “Marissa?” In one swift motion, he moved me from on top of him to the other end of the couch, and then he sat upright. “What’s going on?” His eyes bore into me.

  I had to distract him. I had to keep him focused on not talking, because I couldn’t talk. Words hurt, thoughts hurt. There was no point to any of it, and I needed to just do this. Without thought, I reached behind my back and began to unhook my bra.

  Instantly he was beside me, throwing his hand around my back, gripping my hands firm in his. “No,” he said. “What’s going on?” His words were slow and deliberate.

  A look of concern crossed his eyes. Avoiding his eyes, I looked at the stretched-out collar of his T-shirt. It looked like an animal had pulled on it. Then I saw the mark on his collarbone, the bite mark. I hardly remembered doing that to him. There was a grotesque bubbling feeling inside me. Like I had eaten a box of baking soda and someone was pouring vinegar down my throat. The rush, the emotion, the fear — it was all coming up fast. Before he could see the tears start streaming down my cheeks, I pushed past him and grabbed my shirt that had fallen on the floor. I rushed to the front door, my arms flailing as I pulled the shirt over my head. My purse had fallen in the entryway, and I grabbed it and its contents seconds before Brandon was at my side.

  “Marissa, come on, you’re freaking me out here. What’s going on?” He put himself between me and the door.

  “Brandon, you have to move.” My voice was low and sounded foreign to me.

  “I’m not letting you storm out of here without telling me what’s going on.”

  He looked like a mountain in front of me.

  I did the only thing I could think of. “Please, Brandon,” I said in the sweetest possible voice. I moved close to him and pressed my chest against his. His body softened. “I just need you to trust me.” My voice had never been so convincing before. Then I closed my eyes and kissed him again. When I felt his body completely relax, I broke free and pushed him aside. Then I ran to my car and drove to the mall.

  Once I arrived at the mall, I went into my favorite overpriced clothing store and began grabbing clothes off the racks. As I did I didn’t even check sizes. After gathering a pile of random clothing, I went to the accessories table and grabbed a pile of scarves. Then I added fistfuls of necklaces and rings. With my arms overstuffed, I carried my haul to the cashier. While she rang things up, I realized I wasn’t even sure what I was buying. I was having trouble seeing straight. When she read me the total, I paid the two-hundred-dollar bill with the emergency credit card Gram had given me. After that I made two more stops while in the mall. One to the shoe store for a one-hundred-dollar pair of boots, and one to the bath and body store where I grabbed stacks of whatever was closest before I dumped them down at the check-out stand, seventy-five dollars.

  As I left the mall with my purchases in hand, I still felt wrong. My brain was crazed, and my forehead felt hot. The bubbling feeling was creeping up again. I’d blink and see my mom sick in the hospital bed. When I’d blink again I’d see Marc sitting in the pew at Mom’s funeral. Blink. Mom laughing as she tried to blow out the candles Marc and I put on her birthday cake. Blink. Marc pouring gelatin on my head after I called him a booger. Blink. Gram in her hospital bed looking whiter than her bleached sheets. Blink. Marc standing before me for the first time in over a year, not knowing what to say. Blink. The red heart-shaped balloon floating up to Heaven to meet my mom.

  When I blinked again, I was at the YMCA. There I sat in my parked car with the keys still in the ignition. The scary thing was I didn’t even remember driving there. I turned off the car and grabbed my spare gym bag from the trunk. There was a cool breeze in the air, and my skin tingled as it brushed against me while I ran the track. My left shoelace came untied, and I could hear that stupid plastic piece, the aglet, hitting the pavement.

  “Shoe’s untied,” another runner said as he lapped me.

  Shut up. You don’t know me. Who are you to be talk to me? Ignoring him, I imagined I was running on an open road. Running on a beautiful, open road to nowhere, or to anywhere instead of this stupid circle. Everything in front of me was blurry. My head felt like it weighed fifty pounds. My breathing was short and shallow. There was a burning sensation in my chest. But I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, I’d have to deal. And I couldn’t deal. There was no reason to deal; I just had to keep running. My heart was racing faster than ever. Each time I tried to slow my breath down, it was like trying to slow down a locomotive. No matter what, it just kept racing and racing. Faster down the track. The world around me began to spin, then I hit the ground, and everything went dark.

  I awoke to the scent of ammonia. “What is that?” My hand swatted the scent away from my nose as I pushed myself to sit up.

  “Easy now,” an unknown female voice said. “Don’t move too fast just yet.”

  As my eyes focused, I realized I was sitting on the track. My head felt like a two-ton brick, and there was a pain behind my left eye. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “What?” I rubbed my temples and tried to remember. Running. Falling. “Oh, yeah, I… fell during my run.”

  “Do you have any medical conditions?” she asked.

  “No, no medical conditions.” By the way she was looking at me, I was worried she might want to bring me to the hospital or something. “I didn’t eat enough today.” I switched my tone to the classic teenager. “I’m an idiot. I was just up late last night studying, and today was super crazy, and I totally forgot to eat something so I’d be strong enough for my run. My bad.” By the way she looked at me, I could tell she was buying it. “It totally won’t happen again.”

  “Promise?” She still had an apprehensive look on her face.

  “Cross my heart.” I made the gesture of crossing my heart and added a big, sweet smile.

  “Okay, but no more working out for you today. I’m going to walk you to the locker room, then you are going to go home and take it easy, right?”

  “Totally,” I stood up and had to force myself not to sway, even though I felt my body pull to the left like a misaligned car. She walked me to the locker rooms and patted my shoulder before she left. I grabbed my stuff and headed to my car.

  As I drove, my body slowly returned to normal. The pain was ever present, both physically and mentally. I felt the heat in my eyes and the prickling sensation of wetness, but the tears were too exhausted to even push themselves out.

  When I pulled into my driveway, I half-expected to find Brandon there. But I didn’t. He probably thought I was insane. I sure felt like I was. He was better off without me anyway. As I walked in the house, the scent of pancakes filled my nose. Was there a burglar in my house making pancakes? Cautiously, I walked to the kitchen with my purse positioned in my hand. I was prepared to smack it against the intruder’s skull. The sack of change I had in there might render them unconscious. The purse fell out of my hand and hit the floor when I saw who it was.

  “Hey, want a pancake?” Marc asked.

  Chapter Twenty

  With my mouth gaping open, I stood frozen as I watched Marc sidle up to the table and begin eating pancakes. He sat there like he’d never left, like today was just like any other day. Here he was eating breakfast for dinner, and he wanted me to join him. I felt catatonic.

  “Are you gonna sit down, at least?” he said between mouthfuls.

  Like a suspicious cat, I walked over to the chair across from him. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as I sat down. He kept his eyes on his plate. My bones felt like they were coming unhinged inside me.

  Marc put his fork down, and I could feel him bobbing his legs up and down under the table. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  The rage was migrating through my body. “Seriously?” My teeth clenched. “That’s it?�
� I wanted to flip the table over.

  He pushed himself out of his chair and stood up. “Look, Marissa, don’t give me a hard time about this, all right.” He began pacing.

  It was like a skydiver had just landed on my back. I felt the weight of his words, heavy and dense. “Are you kidding me right now?” I got up and walked toward him, matching his pacing. “Don’t give you a hard time? Are you kidding me, Marc? I don’t even know what to say to you right now!” I hated when my voice got all high and squeaky when I was angry.

  “What do you want me to say here, Marissa? I’m sorry. That’s it.” He continued to pace as he ran his hands through his hair.

  There were a million things I had to say to him but somehow, I couldn’t manage to make a concrete thought. I started with, “Where have you been?”

  “Nowhere and everywhere.”

  Was he being some kind of abstract poet? “And what does that mean? It’s been over a year Marc!” I halted his pacing by standing in front of him. “A year!”

  With heavy eyes, he looked down at me, and I prayed that I didn’t start crying. I couldn’t stand my ground firm enough if I started crying.

  “Look, Marissa, I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “Really?” I snapped. “You didn’t think once about me, because if you had, you never would have left in the first place. And if you had thought about me at all, you would have at least called me to see if I was okay. You selfish jerk. I wish you hadn’t come back.” I couldn’t believe I said that. My love for Marc was so deep, but now the pain that he had caused me by leaving was coming to a head. After all this time he was finally here before me, and my heart couldn’t contain it anymore. He had hurt me.

  He looked taken aback, like he didn’t understand who I was saying these words to him. His baby sister that had worshiped him had just called him a selfish jerk.

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say here.” While shaking his head, he stepped back from me. “I can’t have my little sister thinking I’m a piece of garbage, I just can’t.”

  His eyes darted from the kitchen to the living room, and he looked like he was trying to do long division in his head. After a moment he went to the kitchen and grabbed two coffee mugs. I watched as he filled them both with the coffee he had made to accompany his pancakes. Then he rummaged through the cabinets looking for something. Satisfied, he pulled out a bag of chocolate chip cookies and tossed a pile of them on a plate. My feet were frozen as I stood watching him with my arms folded. Methodically he grabbed two large glasses, which he filled with milk, and set them on the table. Then he sat and looked at me.

  “Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” My arms remained crossed.

  “I know you don’t do tea parties anymore, but how about a coffee party? If you sit down and listen to what I have to say, I’ll sit and listen to what you have to say, and maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle.”

  Again the rush of tears filled my eyes, like the beavers had forgotten to barricade the dam sufficiently. I pulled a chair out and sat across from him. He had already begun eating one of the cookies.

  “So, first off, tell me where Gram is.” Cookie crumbs collected in the corners of his mouth.

  Oh no. “Oh, she’s… in… the hospital.”

  ****

  Marc’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. “So tell me again, exactly what did the doctor say?” He pulled a rolling stop at a stop sign.

  “He said her levels were where he wanted them to be or something, and that it looked like everything was going to be fine.” I held onto the door a bit as he turned a corner too fast.

  “But he didn’t say definitely? He said probably? That she’ll probably be okay?” I could hear the underlying panic in his voice.

  “She’s going to be fine.” I tried to sound reassuring.

  “You should have called me.”

  What? “When I called you after you first took off, I got a recording that the number was no longer in service. How could I have called you?” There was no hiding my defensiveness.

  He let out a heavy sigh. “I know, sorry. Knee-jerk reaction there. Sorry.”

  This was the fifth time he’d said “sorry” during our drive. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how he was driving — unsafely — or if there were apologies for the last year.

  “Punch buggie,” he shouted as he punched my arm when a bug drove past us.

  “Ow! Jerk!” I laughed and rubbed my arm. Suddenly it hit me. I was in the car with my big brother. I was with Marc. For a moment, the pain faded when I looked at his profile.

  The loud ring of my phone startled me. I went to retrieve it from my purse, which was situated between Marc and me, when he pushed my hand out of the way and grabbed it himself.

  “Hel-lo, Marissa’s phone!” he said in a sing-song manner.

  “Give me that!” Annoyed, I pulled the phone away from him. “Hello?” I punched his arm lightly.

  “Marissa?”

  Oh no. “Brandon. Hi.”

  “I was worried about you. Who… who answered your phone?”

  What do I do, what do I do? “What? Nobody.”

  He made a huffing sound. “Right. Nobody. Got it.” Then we were disconnected.

  Ugh! I tossed the phone back in my purse and rested my head against the passenger window. The cold from the glass felt good against my warm forehead.

  “Everything okay?” Marc’s voice cut through the silence.

  “I don’t know.” I looked at him again. Marc. My heart suddenly swelled. “Maybe it is.”

  ****

  When we arrived at the hospital, it was past visiting hours, but the nurse was nice enough to let us go in anyway. I made sure I went in first to break the news to Gram that Marc was back. After all, she had suffered a heart attack, and I didn’t want the shock of seeing him to give her another one. She seemed to not believe me when I told her. But when he walked in the door her face lit up, and tears of joy streamed down her cheeks. Marc apologized for never contacting her and letting her know that he was safe. We both listened as Marc told us that he had spent the last year and a half living out in North Carolina. He said when he took off he just started driving, and for whatever reason, North Carolina was where he ended up. For the first few weeks after he arrived there he actually lived out of his car. Then he got a job waiting tables at a nightclub. Apparently, the tips were good, especially on ladies’ nights. The tighter his T-shirt, the higher the tips. Gross, but whatever.

  Once he had saved up enough money, he found an apartment for rent. It was actually a room for rent. Three guys shared a house, and he rented the last open bedroom. Rent was low enough that he could swing it, and it was right down the street from where he worked.

  “When I found that place, I felt more settled, and that’s when I was going to call you,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you?” I blurted out before Gram had a chance.

  He rubbed his hands together. “I don’t know. It had been three months by that point and… I still wasn’t ready to talk about… you know.” He tugged at his pant leg.

  “Talk about your mother,” Gram said.

  “Yeah.” Marc looked at her, but only for a moment. “It was like I was living this new life now, and my old life didn’t matter.”

  “That’s nice. We didn’t matter.” I groaned and crossed my arms. My heart hoped he could feel the heat from my eyes.

  “No, not that you didn’t matter.” He sighed. “I just didn’t want to think about it. And no one around me knew about it. So it was like I had a clean slate or something. I know it’s stupid, but I didn’t want people to pity me or something.” He looked at me when he said the last part, and I felt my face flush.

  Did he know that I was the same way? He hadn’t even been around, but could he somehow know that I also hid my life from people? That I also didn’t want anyone’s pity. It’s weird when you are connected to someone, and they can understand what you’re feeling in a way no one else can
. He kept his eyes on me for what felt like a long time, like he was silently connecting that feeling to me. Like he was telepathically saying, “You do it too.”

  “It still would have been nice if you’d called,” Gram said, which was much nicer than what I was going to say.

  Marc shifted in his seat. “I know, Gram, and I’m sorry. But it was, like, first it was only a few months, then the months turned into a year, then it was like I convinced myself I didn’t have an old life. I know it’s messed up, but it’s just what happened. Like I was so deep into this new life that I couldn’t go backward.” To me he said, “I’m sorry, Marissa. I’m a horrible big brother. I should’ve been there for you. Can you please forgive me?”

  There was something so sincere in his voice that I felt the walls around my heart start to crumble. With everything inside me, I wanted to hate him, but this was Marc. All I truly wanted to do was hug him and beg him never to leave again. I tried to look tough, my legs and arms crossed. “I’ll try,” I replied as I looked to the floor. “So what were you doing back here? And who was the girl you were with?”

  A large grin swept across his face. “Ginny.” The grin morphed into a full-faced smile. “She’s awesome. We met at the mall. Not this mall here, but back in North Carolina. She works at one of those specialty tea shops. Funny thing is she’s from around here. She wanted to visit her family, but her car would never have made the drive, so I offered to bring her. We’d only been in town a day before we ran into you.” He looked briefly at me.

  “So you were in town, and you still didn’t think to call?” Now I was feeling my blood boiling, and it was rising up from my toes to my head.

  Marc sat back in his chair. “No, see I was… going to call you but—”

  “Save it.” I cut him off. How dare he? A barricade was immediately rebuilt around my heart.