by Jenny Moss
“No.”
“Mark, let’s sit down.”
“You don’t love me anymore?”
I tried to say something, anything.
“Annie,” he said, softly. “Annie. You’re crying.” He wiped my face with the towel.
“Mark,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
His eyes watered, and it broke my heart.
“Mark. I’ll always love you. You mean so much to me.”
“But you’re not … in love with me anymore.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He pulled back, throwing his hands up in the air.
Whoosh, it was gone, the love, the caring, the sweetness … I really needed it right now, and he was especially good at it, but it wasn’t fair to him. “Mark.” I tried to reach for him. He backed up.
“Tell me the truth,” he said, his eyes wet, his voice steel. “Is it Tommy?”
I hesitated.
“I knew it. I knew it. When I saw that guy, I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”
I could have gotten mad. He had no right to say he shouldn’t have let me go, like he owned me. But what did it matter what he said now? “Mark. You knew something was wrong before I left, that’s why you got so mad when I was leaving. You sensed that I didn’t feel the same way anymore.”
He looked like he was going to say something, but he didn’t. “I gotta go.”
“Mark.” I thought he was crying. “Mark, wait.”
He didn’t stop.
I stared out the living room window. Mark got into his car, slamming the door. When he drove away, the tires squealed. I could even hear it inside the house. I watched the cars go down the road.
CHAPTER 53
I looked for him at school—in the hallways, at his locker. He wasn’t anywhere.
Then I went to the one class we had together and he wasn’t there either.
“Where’s Mark?” Lea asked in a concerned voice. She and I had spent two hours on the phone last night.
“I don’t know.”
I looked around. The teacher wasn’t here yet, so everyone was in groups talking. No one was listening to the two of us. They all had their own stuff.
Mark walked in the room. He looked terrible. His eyes were red. His hair was not brushed, his clothes were so wrinkled it looked like he had slept in them. I silently pleaded with him to look up at me. But he avoided my eyes, walking past his normal seat beside me and sitting in the back of the room.
The whispers started. Eyes turned my way, then his. I was glad the teacher walked in right then. I opened my book and stared at the board, wishing this day would just be over so I could go home and curl up on the couch in front of the TV. Maybe Dad would come by. Life could stop, and then go on.
I waited for Mark after class. People would catch my eye as they came out, then look away like they were embarrassed for me. I was sure they were wondering what was going on. Mark and I had been a couple for ages.
I worried what he would do when he saw me. He was taking forever. I swallowed and looked down, looked back up. I didn’t want to be standing here, but I had to talk to him. I was worried about him.
He was the last one out. He stopped abruptly when he saw me. “Oh,” was all he said.
“Can I talk to you?”
He looked at a whispering huddle of girls in the corner. “Just leave it,” he said, walking off.
I followed him. “I’m worried about you,” I said, putting my hand on his arm.
He pulled away. “Don’t.”
I watched him walk off down the hallway.
When the last bell of the day rang, I went straight to his car. I leaned against it, waiting.
It wasn’t long before I saw him walking toward me, or toward the car rather.
“What are you doing?” he asked, putting the key in the lock.
“I need a ride.”
“Ride the bus.”
“I’ve already missed the bus.”
He opened the door. “What is it you want, Annie?”
“A ride home.”
He sighed, looked off toward the football field. “Fine.”
We didn’t say anything on the way home. It was a short but painful drive. The words wouldn’t seem to come to me. I didn’t want to talk to him when he was driving anyway. I wanted his full attention.
“Do you want to go over the bridge?” I asked.
“I gotta get home.”
We pulled up in front of my house. “Can you come in? I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I won’t get out of the car until you agree.”
“Fine,” he said like he was disgusted with me. “Let’s get this over with,” he added, slamming the car door.
We went inside.
“Let’s sit down,” I said, gesturing to the couch.
But he wouldn’t. He just stared out the window. “So you’re with that Tommy guy,” he said.
I wanted to tell him the truth. “Not yet. But I think I will be.”
He turned around and stared at me. “He doesn’t know you like I know you. How long has he known you? A month? I’ve known you since we were kids.”
“Yes, Mark, since we were kids,” I said, sitting on the couch.
He stared at me. “Why did you want me to come in here?”
My eyes were burning. “Sit down,” I said. “Please.”
He sat in Dad’s chair.
I took a breath. “I wanted to tell you that I care about you, Mark. And that I’m really sorry I did this to you.” His sadness clutched at my heart.
He took a ragged breath. “Annie.” He looked defeated. “I don’t know how to be without you,” he said, gazing at me with sudden desperation in his eyes. “You’ve been my whole life.”
It tore me up to see him this way. And to know I had done it. “I wish I felt differently.”
“Why him, Annie? Why him?”
“It’s not just about him, Mark. He was what triggered it, yes. That, and Challenger, in a way. But I’ve felt this way for a while.”
“Are you going to stay here after graduation to be with this guy?”
“If I stayed here, it wouldn’t be because of him.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“I don’t understand either.” I looked off, fighting tears. “But I can’t make decisions about my life based on other people, on what they want me to do, or even on who they are to me.”
“So you’re going to go through life by yourself, Annie?” he asked. “You’ve got some sort of romantic idea about it, like you’re this island, and you’re cool because of it, because you don’t want to be attached to anyone.”
“We’re so young, Mark. One day, I might settle down. But right now, I can only think of what I want. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, figuring out what I want, regardless of what everyone else wants for me, or even who I want to be with. I’m eighteen years old. That’s it. I’m only eighteen. I get to figure out who I am right now. I get to figure out what my life is going to look like.”
“And your life doesn’t include me?” His face contorted, but he held it together, looking at me steadily.
“I wish it could,” I whispered.
“We could just be friends. Still do stuff together.”
“I wish we could. But, Mark, I don’t think you can just be friends with me. I don’t think that’s going to be enough for you right now. Maybe later. But not right now.”
“And so, our time together, which has been practically our whole life, is just gone. It just meant nothing.”
“Oh, Mark. It meant so much.”
“But it’s over for you. You won’t miss it? You won’t miss me?”
“I already miss you. But life is about loss too,” I said, trying very hard to get the words out. “You’re one of my losses, and I’m one of yours.”
“And this is what you wanted
me to come over for?” He stood. “Great. Just great.”
“I wanted to talk to you in private. Without everyone at school. I don’t like seeing you in pain—”
“Too bad, Annie. I can’t make that better for you. You’re just going to have to see me in pain.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Part of you did.”
“You won’t always feel this way. Not always.”
He gave me one last look and then walked out the door.
CHAPTER 54
I stared at Tommy’s phone number, wanting to call. A week had gone by since I’d broken up with Mark. But the last few nights had been very busy: studying for three tests, a night of working, and long chats with Lea about Mark and Tommy. So I still hadn’t called him.
Finally, I did.
“Annie? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me.” I was nervous, but it was a good nervous.
“Hey! I can’t believe you’re calling.”
“Is it all right?” I asked.
“I wanted you to call. What are you doing?”
“I’m sitting here talking to you,” I said, stumbling over how to ask someone out on a date. “I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow.” I didn’t think that was how you did it, but that was what tumbled out.
“I’m skydiving. It’s going to be a beautiful day. Want to come?”
“What? No. I don’t know how to skydive.”
“No, I mean, you could just come out there with me, see what it’s all about.”
Skydiving? I’d be watching Tommy jump out of a plane after we’d just seen Challenger fall apart in the sky. Probably not the best timing, but I wanted to be with him. “Sure,” I told him. “Yeah.”
- - - - -
He picked me up the next morning. He was wearing navy again, which was becoming my new favorite color. We grinned at each other stupidly and exchanged hellos. There was no hug like the last time I’d gotten into his car. Something felt new and different between us. I was suddenly shy, and slightly terrified by the extreme happiness pulsing through me at the sight of him.
“So, how’s Mark?” he asked before we’d gotten out of my neighborhood.
“We broke up.”
He glanced over at me. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Today I am.”
He looked away from me. He glanced back, with a grin on his face. “Hell, Annie, I want to be sympathetic about it, but I’m really happy right now.”
I nodded at him, knowing how he felt.
After that conversation, something shifted again, and we were less awkward and tentative with one another. We laughed a lot and teased one another about things. But there was no touching. I didn’t know how he felt, but I wanted touching—I hoped he would at least reach out and take my hand. I wondered if he knew we were on a date.
“So graduation’s getting close,” he said.
“Yeah. Confusingly close.”
He gave me a sympathetic look. “Still can’t decide?”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about teaching.”
He gave me a quick look. “Teaching?” He smiled. “Really?”
“I think at the college level, if I can hang in there long enough,” I said, thinking of all the degrees I’d have to get. But the thought of going for a PhD and becoming Dr. Annie was actually kind of exciting.
“I didn’t know you were thinking about teaching.”
“It’s been in the back of my mind. I’m not sure if it’s for me. But there are things about it I would like.”
“Like?”
“It’d be great to be around people who either know about poetry or want to learn about it. That’d be cool.” I looked at him. “My dad and I are going to a poetry reading on Tuesday in Houston. Would you like to come too?”
He gave me a long sweet look. “I’d really like that, Annie.” We were quiet for a moment. “It’s cool,” he said finally, “that we both might be teachers.”
“You might go back to college, Tommy?”
“I’m seriously thinking about it.”
It was a short drive to the tiny airport, which was in the middle of a field not far from my house. We parked next to a long, low gray building. Several jumpers—mostly guys, but some girls—were in front talking, already in their bright jumpsuits, orange, red, many shades of blue. Their excitement reminded me of being on the causeway, waiting for the shuttle to launch. I tried to push that thought away.
Tommy introduced me to a few people and left me with them while he went inside to pay and get ready. One gray-haired lady, the mother of two of the jumpers, pointed out the plane they would use—a white prop plane with red and blue stripes down the sides. “It’s an Otter, on loan from Metro Airlines. They get the plane on Friday night, pull out the seats, and she’s ready to go.”
Tommy came out in a white jumpsuit, wearing a backpack filled with his parachutes, and a harness with straps around his legs, shoulder, and chest. He was so enthusiastic he seemed to already be up in the air.
“A natural high,” he said, when I teased him about it.
“A crazy high,” I said.
“All kinds of high today,” he said, holding my eyes for a moment.
Whoa. What that look did to me. I was a little frightened by this charged connection between us. This was way past my comfort zone, but thrilling. The situation had changed. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I was free.
I glanced over at the plane, not trusting it. “This reminds me of the Challenger.”
“Hey,” Tommy said, grabbing my hand. “You look worried. It’s fine.”
His touch felt good. “How high do you go?”
“About thirteen thousand feet. We’ll get about sixty seconds of free fall.”
I nodded. Challenger had been almost four times that high when it fell apart.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to come,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I wasn’t thinking. It’s too soon after the accident.”
“No, no. It’s fine.”
He turned toward the plane when someone called his name.
“Go, Tommy,” I said. “Go. Have fun.” I smiled at him.
“Okay. See you in a few,” he said, jogging to the plane. He got on with the others and I gave him a little wave. I watched the plane roll away from me on the short runway.
There were other spectators. Two of the girls asked me questions about Tommy, and Tommy and me as a couple. They did it in a friendly way, making me feel part of the group. “You’re the first person he’s brought out here,” said the girl with feathered blond hair.
“Really?” I asked, pleased.
A couple of guys pulled an ice cooler out of the back of a truck. One of them offered me something. I popped open a Diet Coke.
Someone pointed out the plane. I looked up, feeling a little rattled because it reminded me of the awful day we lost Christa. The sky had been blue, just like this. The land had been flat, just like this. And I had been looking up, just like this.
And the excitement in the air reminded me of the excitement that day.
So my heart was in my throat as I watched. But I didn’t look away; I kept watching.
“Did you want to try this too?” the blonde asked me.
“Skydiving?” I asked. “I don’t know.”
“It’s really a rush. You’re flying at 120 miles per hour!”
“I think they’re crazy,” said a middle-aged man, “to be jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.”
“There they go!” the gray-haired lady yelled.
White specks appeared in the sky as the plane flew away. The jumpers fell through the air while those around me clapped and laughed and pointed. It was all eerily similar to being on the KSC causeway with the Challenger crowd.
My eyes watered, but I brushed the tears away quickly. It was all right, really. I wasn’t going to carry Challenger with me so closely anymore. I couldn’t. There were too many b
eautiful things I’d miss if I did.
Their parachutes were popping out.
“Your boyfriend,” the blonde told me, “has a dark blue chute.”
I looked up, not telling her he wasn’t my boyfriend. They were still too high for me to figure out who was who. “How high is he?”
“About two thousand feet or so.” She grinned. “He’ll be on the ground in five.”
I watched them float down under colorful canopies and wondered what it must be like to be up there, looking out over Clear Lake and beyond it. They must feel a part of the sky. All these years I’d looked up to watch the stars. Maybe I’d like to look down to see my house while I floated above it.
As the skydivers got closer, I could hear them yelling out in wild whoops and hollers, like they were riding in on currents of pure joy. The gray-haired lady pointed Tommy out to me, but I’d already spied him. A couple of cameras were snapping, but I knew the skydivers would look very small in the photos.
And then Tommy’s feet were on the ground and his parachute billowed out and then down behind him. I waved at him, but knew he probably couldn’t pick me out from the rest of the crowd.
It wasn’t long before he was running over to me, his arms out. “Hey, hey!” he said, spinning me around.
“You looked fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Was it as fun as it looked?”
“Oh, man. It was wild, a wild rush.” He leaned back, a grin on his face. “You thought it looked fun. You did?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Especially when your chute opened.”
He laughed. “Maybe you’ll come with me one day?” he asked, his hands on my shoulders. “Right?”
“Maybe,” I said.
He pushed my hair out of my face. “Maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d like that, Annie. I’d really like to do this with you.”
“You would?” I asked, leaning closer in, wanting him to kiss me.
“Yeah,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
“Your eyes are still lit up,” I said. “I can see how much you like jumping out of airplanes.”
“That’s not the only thing that has my eyes lit up,” he said softly.
“No?” I asked. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.
“Not even close.”