She could hear that someone dropped down into the seat next to her just as a tear slipped down one of her cheeks but she convinced herself that she didn’t care. This was New York. People shared spaces all the time and never talked. It just couldn’t be helped.
“Hey.”
Sarah opened her eyes and immediately shut them again. The color crept back into her face. “Great. That’s twice now you’ve seen me crying. Could my day get any worse? What do you want now?”
Brendan was holding a cup of coffee between his hands. “Can we start over?”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know–“ He looked at his cup and gestured her direction. “Share a cup of coffee, get to know each other?”
“You have a nice smile, you know that?”
“Thanks.” It was Brendan’s turn to be embarrassed.
“That was not a pick up line, by the way. I’m just being friendly.”
“Well, you ought to be careful about that in this city.” His eyes swept the room.
“I know, I’ve been here three years and I just can’t get used to that part.” She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. “You’ve really lived here your whole life?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
She looked out the window. There were two men pushing each other around and yelling profanities at one another just outside on the sidewalk. “Does it ever go away?”
“What’s that?”
Her eyes took on a timid glow. “Being afraid…”
She was still looking out the window. Brendan followed her gaze. He looked down at his arms, at sleeves that hid fresh scars, and the tattoo like a bracelet he’d added since he turned eighteen. A chain was hanging from his hip and he let his tongue run along the inside of his lip where the metal protruded. He may have been small and carried a backpack, but he was still a guy and no one really messed with him much.
Tess was tough but she’d been afraid a lot too. He read it in her poetry–sometimes in black and white and sometimes between the lines. Was everyone afraid? Was everyone alone?
Something in Sarah’s eyes told the entire story as he watched her watch the argument on the sidewalk. It was getting more and more heated and it glued her to the chair. Brendan pulled out his camera and snapped a black and white. It was at just the right angle to catch her face and part of the scene on the sidewalk. He looked at the preview of the shot on the LCD and was really happy with it. The overstuffed furniture and the large windows framed it perfectly.
Sarah’s head shot up. “Hey! What was that for?”
“I saw a great shot. I took it.” Brendan pulled one shoulder up toward his ear. “So sue me.”
“I never said you could take my picture!”
He smiled, trying not to laugh at her indignance. “Would you like me to delete it?”
Her eyebrows scrunched up as she thought about it. “What do you want to do with it?”
“Well, I have this website…”
Sarah’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. When she broke into an embarrassed smile, he snapped another shot. It was perfect. The lens captured even more than he could have hoped. “Sorry. I’ll stop now.”
She leaned back into the cushions and relaxed a little. “So, you’re obviously enjoying your birthday present. How did you become interested in photography?”
“That’s a long story.”
“I hear they sell a lot of coffee here.”
Brendan looked around and smiled.
“Well, I used to have a pretty decent digital camera. I started taking pictures with it and then playing with them on my computer–you know, different effects, simple graphic design stuff. Just passing the time. Then I got a really great Mac with lots of photo editing options, so I asked for a better camera for my birthday. From there it’s pretty much taken on a life of its own. My camera has taught me a lot of things.”
That seemed to pique her interest. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Like…perspective is everything.” Brendan explained. “A different angle, a different filter, a different lens…and suddenly everything changes.”
Sarah just nodded, still a little wide-eyed. There were some moments in time that just solidified without warning. The sounds and smells of the coffee shop formed a snapshot in his mind with her eyes at the center and he realized that no matter what he did with those pictures, he’d probably never forget her face.
“Are you working on something specific or do you just like taking random pictures?”
He shifted in his seat. “How much coffee’s left in your cup?”
“Enough.” Her eyes set the challenge. The rest of her sat completely still.
He weighed his options, finding little to lose. There was only one way to find out where she stood, so he lifted one of his sleeves. “Do you know what this is?”
Her head stayed still while her eyes scanned the area he indicated. “Yeah. I know what it is.”
“Ever known anyone who cut?”
“No.” Her answer was simple, to the point. She wasn’t making it very easy for him.
“So why now? Why me?”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “Hey, you tripped me first, remember? And if I’m not mistaken, this is the second time you’ve followed me into a coffee shop trying to strike up a conversation, not to mention the whole Star Wars, cloning…AP Bio thing.”
She was right, of course. From her perspective, he was actually pursuing her. He shook his head, trying to get her to see, but not finding the right words. “I’m the guy your mother warned you about.”
“Yeah, well–she warned me to be careful crossing the street too but I still do it. I just learned how to look both ways.” She sat forward, arms resting on her knees. “But ok…you want to know why? The real story?” She looked down at her feet. “You’re going to think I’m a little nuts for this.”
Brendan chuckled. “No offense, but I already think you’re a little nuts.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “Well, at least I know I won’t be able to ruin your good opinion of me.”
Brendan waited quietly.
“Ok, well…my family moves around a lot. Every couple of years I guess. My dad’s job takes him to a lot of new places. I’ve lived here in New York for about three years now, and I’ve learned to appreciate it on some levels, but I still don’t really understand it. I have a few friends but I spend a lot of time alone, and–”
She let the ‘and’ hang in midair while he waited.
“I–spend a lot of time just looking out my window at night and journaling. A few weeks ago I saw this guy almost jump off the balcony of his penthouse apartment.” She was watching his face for a reaction but he wasn’t about to let anything slip. “It caught my attention, you know?”
She certainly had his attention. He swallowed hard. “Almost?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. It’s like a ritual or something. I see him out there a lot, but he never jumps. But–that’s not the point. The point is–”
Brendan shifted in his seat. “Where do you live exactly?”
“Not too far from The Carlton Hotel, why?”
“No reason.”
“Anyway, I started journaling about a lot of things, trying to make sense of what I was feeling. Then I met you and when you told me about your friend that jumped, I thought it couldn’t have been a coincidence. I started asking myself some hard questions.”
Brendan’s heart was thundering in his chest but he was careful to keep his expression controlled. “Questions like–”
“Like when did I start being so afraid of everything?”
The way she just opened her soul to him was absolutely captivating. He sucked in his breath and stared at her in disbelief. “Are you always this honest?”
“No. Well, yes–I guess so. It used to be one of my biggest flaws.” Sarah stared at her feet. “My point is, somewhere along the way I started being afraid, and I don’t know when or how it happened but all I know is, I’m tired of
it. I’m tired of being afraid of what people will think and do and say.”
He didn’t respond. He was completely taken in by her candor, waiting to see what she might reveal next.
“This is by far the most exciting city I’ve ever lived in, but I’ve never known a day without fear since I got here. It’s partially my fault though.” She glanced out the window, then looked back at him, her eyes completely open. “I’m pretty sure I stopped engaging a long time ago.”
“I guess you live here long enough, it makes you hard.”
“Well, either way I won’t have to deal with it much longer.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have to move again in November.”
A muscle twitched in Brendan’s jaw. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”
“Connecticut. But I’m spending the summer in Canada and then I’ll only be back a couple of months before I have to leave again.” She fingered her hair and looked out the window.
“So you’re just gonna fly under the radar until you leave?”
One side of her mouth pulled up. “I guess so. But that’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
She was silent through several sips of coffee. When she finally spoke, it was in a quiet voice that he had to lean forward to hear. “I think about your friend that died, and I see that guy out there on his balcony, and I just can’t help but wonder.”
Brendan took a long breath in through his nose and one eye twitched involuntarily. “Wonder what?”
“So many people talk about having something to live for. I think they’ve got it backwards. Maybe we all just need something worth dying for.”
“Excuse me?”
“Have you ever wanted something so much you’d be willing to die for it?”
Brendan didn’t trust himself to answer the question. “Have you?”
Sarah waved her hand as her expression went from serious to casual in the space of a heartbeat. “It’s just this thought I’ve got rolling around in my head. Let’s talk about something else.”
He was only too happy to oblige that request. “So, how do I fit into this whole equation?”
She raised her eyebrows. “You tell me? You’re the one who started pestering me about my biology grades!”
He smiled, nodding his head. “Oh, so it’s pestering now, is it?”
She shrugged. “It is nice to be able to have a real conversation with someone that doesn’t involve clothing or hairstyles or the latest cosmetic enhancement.”
“So you went looking for your polar opposite?”
“Maybe. I’m not really sure.”
Brendan laughed and tapped the edge of his cup with his fingernail. “Well, I appreciate your honesty. It…makes me feel a little like a science experiment though.”
“Lucky for you you’re so good at biology then.”
She smiled at him and his mouth went dry again. He pushed back against his thoughts. She’d made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship, and had in fact pulled away the last time they got close.
The men outside had moved away from the window and life on the street went on as usual. Brendan took another sip of his coffee as he studied her. “You’re definitely different from most girls.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It is in my book.”
“Speaking of girls–” Sarah leaned back against the chair and crossed one leg over the other. “You were going to tell me about this project you’re working on, but then somehow it became all about me.”
“What makes you think it has anything to do with a girl?”
“Just a hunch. Maybe you’d rather tell me what makes you cut? Or get stoned all the time?”
Brendan’s arms got rigid and he could feel the muscles in his neck tense up. “Maybe not.” There was no way he was going to talk to this girl about–
She seemed to pick up on his hesitation and was out of her chair before he could say anything else. Her curt smile did little to hide her disappointment. “Well, my coffee’s gone and I have to get going anyway. Maybe we could pick it up another time?”
He turned his head and watched the barista instead of her face. “Yeah, whatev. See ya.”
Sarah took her books and walked out. Brendan watched her take a deep breath and look left and right before she started out past the window. She didn’t look in at him, but kept her eyes focused ahead of her. He snapped another black and white shot through the window as she passed by. She was right. Looking both ways was all she knew.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What we do in life echoes in eternity.”
Gladiator
“What’ll it be today handsome? The usual?”
Brendan pulled some bills out of his wallet. “Yeah. But give me a couple of roses too, will you?”
“Oh! Sure thing sweetheart! Is it a special occasion?”
“You might say that.”
“Well, we’ll just make it nice and pretty.” The older woman took great care arranging the small bouquet and handed them to him gently. “Here ya go doll.”
“Thanks Peggy.”
“Sure thing honey. You try to have a good day, ok?”
Brendan took the flowers from the street vendor and started up the path. He walked past the large iron gates that stood as sentries to the tight formations of upright stones settled row on row. Bringing flowers to a girl should be a lot more fun than this. When he got to the small, flat stone that marked Tess’s grave he sat down under the oak tree and looked out at the skyline. Last week’s flowers had wilted and mostly blown away. He arranged the fresh spray of daisies in the small plastic vase he’d dug partially into the ground to hold his offerings, but laid the two red roses on either side of the stone. Then he photographed it in black and white, as well as in color. He’d play with the photos later on.
“I hope you don’t mind the pictures. You’ll like what I do with them. You’ll see.”
It was a restless day for him, so he got up and walked around for a while, reading the other headstones and mentally calculating the age of most of the other residents. It was surprising how few people actually lived to a ripe old age. When he got back to her spot, he pulled a few weeds and brushed off the top of the stone.
“I know you hate this, Tess. I know you would’ve liked to be cremated and have your ashes scattered on the wind from a mountaintop somewhere, but I kind of like coming here. It’s like we get to hang out once in a while still. And you know, I’m getting to know the neighbors a bit. Mr. McNeely next store really needs some help with his yard, but Rose O’Donnell over there, she’s got quite the spread. Somebody visits her almost daily, by the looks of it.”
He pulled an envelope out of his jacket and turned it around and around, sliding the crisp paper through his fingertips, trying to gauge the weight of its contents. Finally he slid his knife through the top, being careful not to damage the small folded sheet inside.
Once the paper was out of the envelope, he leaned up against the tree, steeling himself against the inevitable wash of emotions, then lit the joint he’d brought along for the occasion. He held his breath as he unfolded her words.
Dear Brendan,
How funny it seems now, to think back on the day we met. It’s hard to believe it’s only been three weeks, when I already feel like I’ve known you my whole life. The other night we were walking back from the market and my stepdad put you up against the wall. He’d been drinking, and the things he said to you made me want to crawl under a rock, but you just looked him in the eye the whole time. I couldn’t believe it.
You’re brave and sweet and you make me laugh in ways I think I’d forgotten, so I made a chalk drawing of your smile to remind me to laugh more often. I’m not too good with chalk yet, but I’m getting better. I don’t have any pictures of you, so I had to do it from memory. I probably won’t have the guts to give you this letter. It might ruin it. But I like knowing I can still tell you the things I wish I could say. It’s like a game I pl
ay with myself, and then I imagine how you’ll react. In my mind it’s always a good reaction, and I think I like it that way. It’s one of the bright spots, you know?
Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks. For being my friend, for putting up with Peter, and for always walking me home.
Love,
Tess
Brendan leaned his head back against the thick trunk of the oak and tried to imagine the two of them at fifteen. Freshman year was incredibly awkward, for both of them, but he didn’t have a single memory of that year that didn’t involve her. They’d quickly become inseparable; so much so that everyone assumed they were dating. That part never bothered him. It was how he liked to think of it too.
He could still see Peter’s face the night he found himself up against that wall, hanging by two fistfuls of jacket. The guy’s biceps were as big as Brendan’s thighs, his whispered threats carried on the putrid wind of decaying whiskey. He told Brendan to stay away from Tess. That she was his. And if Brendan ever so much as touched her, he would know and come looking for him.
It didn’t matter now, but it wasn’t fear of Peter that kept him away from her. It was fear of rejection. Turns out he probably didn’t have to worry about that after all. Life was funny, not to mention ironic.
He put the letter back in his jacket and took a few more pictures. A random gust of wind blew a section of dried leaves up and he caught a single leaf in mid air against the oak tree. In black and white it might look like fall instead of spring, and if he superimposed the shot of the stone marker and one of the stone crosses, it’d make for a perfect backdrop. With a renewed sense of purpose, he walked back to the subway and began the long ride home.
__________
Nate could barely hear the ringing on one side of his brain. He reached his arm out to wrap it around Paige’s slender frame and groped the empty sheets. Recognition kicked in and he grabbed the phone, trying to pull himself closer toward consciousness. “Hello?”
Letters From The Ledge Page 11