To the Steadfast

by Briana Gaitan

  I glance at my father, not sure if we should hug or not. He nods and I nod back before walking away and driving to my mom’s.

  The lock on my mom’s front door is frozen shut so I have to use all my body weight just to push inside. I rush in and slam the door behind me before pressing my numb fingers to my neck to warm them. Pulling off my scarf and coat, I throw them on the floor. The house is unusually cold, prompting me to turn on the electric fireplace.

  “Hello!” I sing through the house as I walk straight towards the kitchen. There’s no one home, but I don’t care. There’s a party going on next door, which is so loud I can hear Santa, Baby clearly. I know for a fact that the entire block is there, along with some of the most prominent families in Betty. Senator Carmike’s Christmas Eve party is a tradition and the talk of the town. When my parents were together, they’d attend every year. I sneak a peek through the frosted window and watch the people in shimmering dresses standing around with glasses of champagne in their hands. They look so happy.

  I flip the overhead light on and pull the milk from the fridge before sneaking another look. I wonder if Killian is wandering around in there somewhere. Christmas is one of the few holidays he spends with his parents. I grab a cookie from the glass jar on the counter and wander through the house trying to peer into all the windows as I pass. I can’t make out too many faces from so far away, just a bunch of red dresses and men in suits.

  I head upstairs and sit by the window to watch some more. I can see right into their yard. People coming and going. If Killian didn’t hate me so much, I would crash the party. But I did what I did, and I got what I deserve.

  I’m stuffing my face with pity party chocolate when my phone goes off.

  Bassam: Merry Christmas. Hope everyone has a great holiday.

  I’m surprised at first, but I’m obviously the recipient of a mass text message greeting, which deserves the standard reply of thank you. My fingers seem to have a plan of their own, and I reply with something a little more personal.

  Where are you spending Christmas?

  I lay the phone down and continue to listen to the sickening Christmas music blaring from the neighbors. There are large heated gold tents set up in the backyard that have dozens of poinsettias arranged around the perimeter. Maybe I could sneak in and talk to Killian’s parents. Find out how he is doing or what he has going on. I really need to stop this. We were friends. Now we’re not. It’s over, stop obsessing.

  A brown head pops out of the tent and heads for the back door. It could be Killian, but from so far away, I can’t really tell. My attention is diverted by a girl in knee-high boots and a short white dress tripping and face planting onto the ground. That had to hurt. Covering my mouth, I’m not sure whether to laugh or go help. When I notice the front of her dress is covered in blood, the nurse in me breaks loose like The Incredible Hulk. I run downstairs and pull on my shoes. I take the shortcut through my backyard into theirs. When I make it through the gate, the girl is sitting on the ground, but someone has brought her a towel which she is holding over her nose. A few people crowd around but look clueless as what to do.

  “Are you okay? I’m a nursing student. I can help.”

  “I’m fine,” she insists. A huge cut on her head gushes with blood. It trickles down her forehead into her eyes.

  “That cut looks deep. I have a medical kit at my house. Why don’t you let me clean you up?” I grab another towel from beside her and press it against her head.

  At that exact moment, a few people come rushing out of the house. I look up to see Killian’s parents with an older, white-haired man. I recognize him from a few of my father’s hospital benefits. He smiles at me before speaking. “It looks like your guest is in good hands. Dakota Lombardi must have her father’s talents.”

  “Dakota?” Mr. Carmike says, looking me up and down as if he doesn’t recognize me. Sure, it’s been a few years and the last time he saw me I was wearing half a pound more makeup and my clothes were a little more risqué.

  “It’s me.” I give him a tight smile.

  “I’m fine. Really. Thank you for trying to help. I just need to get home and get cleaned up,” the girl beside me says. She looks to be a few years older than me, but pure mortification is written all over her face.

  “If you’re sure,” I tell her. I help her up and Mrs. Carmike grabs her arm to help her to the door. Everyone else begins splitting up and after a minute, it’s just me and Mr. Carmike standing there.

  “You sure grew up,” he says with too friendly of a tone. It’s not that I’m disgusted by him. He’s handsome in a forty-something kind of way. Fit, chiseled chin, and wide smile.

  “Well, it has been a while since you’ve seen me,” I say. I tuck my hair behind my ear and give him a flirty pout. I could use his attention to my advantage. “So, Mr. Carmike, is Killian home?”

  He chuckles, making his blue eyes sparkle. “Call me Jim. Nah, my son is spending the holidays this year elsewhere with his new girlfriend.”

  I keep a straight face but am surprised to hear Killian has a new girlfriend. I step closer to one of the outside heaters and warm my hands above them. “I’m glad for him. I must get going though.”

  “Stop by anytime,” he whispers in my ear as I try and walk away. I keep walking, not looking back. Before I can make it to the safety of my own room, someone grabs my shoulders. I spin around, half startled, and put my hand over my heart as I see Elliot standing there in a black suit.

  “I thought that was you,” he says.

  “Jeez, you scared me, Elliot.”

  When he doesn’t answer, I back up a little towards my house where the lighting is better. Something about being alone with him unsettles me. I never knew Elliot that well, and I don’t plan on changing things.

  “Wait,” he calls out, his voice a little more timid. He grabs a poinsettia from an elaborate display by the house and hands it to me. “Happy Christmas.”

  I give him a polite smile and take the flower. As if it’s expected, I bring the red petals to my nose and inhale.

  “Careful,” he says with a laugh. “These flowers are poisonous if ingested. I’d hate for something to happen.”

  My eyes draw up, not fully understanding the humor in his statement.

  “Um…thanks. I should get going.”

  “Wait!” He grabs my arm a little tighter than need be. He seems to realize what he’s doing and lets go.

  I walk away in such an angle that I can see him from the corner of my eye. Sleeping with Elliot was the biggest mistake I ever made. Thank God I don’t have to see much of him.

  When I’m back in my own yard, the cold takes over. The loneliness takes over. Once in the safety of my room, I shut all the blinds in my room. The green light is flashing on my phone so I pick it up. Bassam has messaged me back.

  Bassam: My parents don’t really celebrate the holiday, but we are skiing in Colorado this week. How about you?

  Cody: At my mom’s place. My dad bought me a car, so the holidays haven’t been a huge waste.

  Bassam: Sweet, what kind of car?

  I can’t believe I forgot to look! I rush downstairs and into the garage. Right in the middle of the garage sits a brand new black Volkswagen Beetle.

  I jump up and down while screaming. “I got a bug! I got a bug!”

  When the excitement begins to wear down, I jump into the driver’s seat and begin checking out all the cool features. It’s been so long since I’ve had a car of my own. It feels like another step toward independence. My phone buzzes and I immediately answer it, thinking it’s Bassam to find out about my car.

  “You will never believe this. I got a Volkswagen!”

  There’s a deep chuckle followed by a voice I’m all too familiar with. “You gonna come visit me now?”

  I stop everything. Stop smiling. Stop moving. Stop breathing. “Mischa?”

  “Miss me yet?”

  “I—I—how are you?”

  “Thinking about you an
d that one Christmas Eve when you, me, and Violet made that huge feast at my house.”

  A smile spreads over my face as I remember that Christmas. My parents were gone, her parents were passed out drunk in their bedroom. We’d decided to create our own tradition.

  “None of us knew how to cook. It was awful.”

  “Hey now. I’d like to think my stuffed chicken made an impression.”

  “You stuffed it with buffalo wings!” I point out.

  “So tell me how life is. You spending Christmas with a new boyfriend or anything?”

  “Not really. I hung out with family tonight, and there’s no boyfriend. There’s a guy, but it’s too new for the family thing.”

  “He doesn’t deserve you anyway.”

  The garage is so cold I can see my breath in front of me. I can’t believe he just said that. “What?”

  “I miss you, Cody.”

  He sounds sincere, and for a moment I almost let my guard down. I almost let myself believe that he wants me. It’s impossible to get over a guy that won’t leave me alone, and I’m too in love to tell him to stop.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t pretend to want me when you’ve already chosen someone else.”

  “I’m just stating the truth.”

  “No! You can’t keep doing this to me. I need to move on, and I can’t do that if you’re always calling.”

  He groans into the phone. “Do you have to?”

  I don’t know if I can. I’ve spent half my life in love with this guy. Maybe I’ll spend the other half trying to fall out of love.

  “Don’t call me again.” I hang up the phone and rest my head on the steering wheel. I refuse to cry over him anymore. With Bassam, there was a flicker of hope. As small as it was, it was enough to hope for someone else.

  As I rush from the cafeteria, I pull my scarf around my face and stick my hands inside the pockets of my black coat. The winters aren’t as bad in Tennessee as they are in New York, but they’re still chilly. The past month has been ridiculous with school and volunteering at the local hospital in hopes that my nursing school application will be enough.

  “Cody!”

  I turn around to see Bassam running from the cafeteria doors after me. I’ve not seen him since school has started back up, which with my busy schedule, wasn’t hard to do. But it’s a small school, and we were bound to bump into each other sooner or later.

  “Hey.” I give him a big smile and wrap my arms around him as he gives me a big hug.

  “I feel like you’ve been ignoring me.”

  “Nah, just school and stuff. You know.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to convince myself. Can I walk with you?”

  “Sure,” I tell him. I motion towards my apartment, which is only a few blocks away.

  “I figured you’d be driving that hot new ride you got.”

  “It’s easier to walk than to drive around for ten minutes looking for a parking spot.”

  He sticks his hands into his pockets. “You got some time for that raincheck date you keep promising me?”

  I stop by the edge of the road, ready to cross to my apartment. Should I? It’s just hanging out. What could it hurt?

  But before I can say yes, I lose all courage. “I can’t.”

  “How come? Didn’t we have fun at the Christmas party?”

  “Yes, I had lots of fun. It’s not you, it’s me.”

  He blows out a breath of air. “You’re gonna use that line on me? Really?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant…I’m afraid I’m not very good company.”

  He laughs. “See, already good company. What do you want to do?”

  He’s not going to give up. “No.”

  We cross the street, and I pull my keys from my pocket, ready to go inside.

  “Hungry?” he asks.

  “Uh, I just ate.”

  “Oh, yeah. Of course. Want to go to see that new horror flick, Ghost Town?”

  A chill runs up my spine. “I hate horror movies.”

  We step up to my porch and I turn to him, not sure if I can get past this sinking feeling that we aren’t synced. He wants what I don’t want. Isn’t he supposed to lack what I do and vice versa? Isn’t that what love is? Technically what do I know about love? Nothing really. Except for what I see in books and movies.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me back to the sidewalk. “Guess if we can’t find something to do we are gonna do what I do every Friday morning.”

  “What’s that?” I let him pull me, curious as to what his ritual is.

  “Every Friday, after my tests, I go and blow all my money on scratch tickets.”

  I try to catch his eye to see if he’s serious. He doesn’t strike me as a gambler. “You play the lottery?”

  “Only on the scratch tickets and only on Fridays,” he says like that makes it any better.

  “You ever win?”

  He shrugs. “Sometimes.”

  We keep walking until we get to a gas station. There’s a picnic table outside for students to eat on, so I take a seat while he goes inside to spend what is probably all his dad’s hard-earned money. A few minutes later, he comes outside waving a few pieces of paper in the air.

  “Ready to get rich?”

  “I don’t have that type of luck,” I reply. I scoot over on the bench so he can sit next to me.

  “I’m feeling lucky today. Got a penny?”

  I shake my head, and he pats down his pockets looking for some spare change.

  When he comes up empty handed, I pull the chain from around my neck and hand him my heart necklace. “Use the corner of this. It may help.”

  He takes the necklace and looks at it for just a moment before using the corner of it to scratch the front of the card. I bite my lip in excitement as he scratches off the silver to reveal a bunch of numbers.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Lucky number fives.”

  “Did we win?”

  He moves on to the next card. “Nope.”

  Much to our disappointment, the next one is a loser as well. When he gets to the final card, I’m dripping in anticipation. No wonder some people are so addicted to these things. They’re fun. I watch as he scratches away on the card to reveal a five-dollar win.

  “No, shit! You won!”

  He squeezes the top of my thigh. “Luck be a lady. What should we do with the five dollars? Keep going?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I say as if the answer should be obvious.

  He goes inside and comes back out with five more dollar scratch tickets. We play the same game. Him scratching and me looking over his shoulder.

  “Three more dollars. Exactly what we began with. Should I quit while I’m ahead?”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “Keep going! Keep going!”

  Again, he goes inside and comes out with a few more scratchers.

  “This is it. If we win a thousand dollars, you have to agree to go with me to Vegas and get married.”

  What are the odds of that happening? I smile and nod and he begins scratching. I don’t know if a part of me is hoping he wins and I get to run off with a man I barely know, but it’s exciting to know that it’s a real possibility, something I didn’t know I enjoyed.

  “I’m gonna dress up like Elvis,” he says as he uses his hand to dust off the debris from the scratcher; we both scan the numbers to see what we won.

  “Did we win?” I can’t see as well as he can.

  “Ten thousand dollars!” he yells while throwing his hands in the air.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” I have to grab onto the side of the picnic table to steady myself. What did I just agree to? Oddly enough, there’s a calm in it all. I like Bassam, and for the first time in a long time, I’m not stressing about any other guy.

  “I’m kidding. We didn’t win anything, but we can still go to Vegas this weekend if you’d like.”

  “I knew it!” I
push him away from me and stand up. “I’m not gonna marry you.”

  “Sit.” He pulls me back down beside him and wraps his arm around my shoulder. In his other hand dangles my necklace. “Did someone special give this to you?”

  The half-heart pendant dangles back and forth in front of me. “Just a guy from back home.”

  “I see. Does he have your heart?”

  I snatch the necklace from his hand. “No, I wear it sometimes.”

  “And why is that?”

  “It looks nice.” Liar! I don’t know why I wear it sometimes. There’s no real reason as to why I reached for it and put it around my neck this morning.

  “Well, good. That gives me a chance to win your heart. But I guess I better start by winning your friendship first. Let’s hang out tonight.”

  I’m so tired of this back and forth. Am I over Mischa or not? I want to prove to myself that I am. He has no power over me. What would it be like to have a second date with a guy? A guy with so much going for him? A job, a stable future.

  “Fine.”

  He looks taken aback. “Really?”

  “Really. You make me forget everything. You make anything fun and I haven’t smiled in a long time. I mean, we just sat here playing scratch tickets and I laughed.”

  “You should see me when I actually try.” He leans in like he’s going to kiss me but stops mere inches from my mouth. From here, I can see every inch of his face. He has a little bit of stubble on his chin, but the rest of his face is tanned perfection. His dark eyelashes rim his entire eye, curling with just the right amount of sexiness. His smile, perfectly straight and gleaming white, hypnotizes me.

  “I’d like that.”

  As winter becomes spring, I find myself spending more and more time with Bassam. We usually meet for a nightly study date and sometimes a coffee in the mornings. He is right about the genius thing and helps me with learning all those hard official names for the body parts. I’ve lost touch with just about everyone else. I Skype with Lydia, but since she’s begun acquiring parts in off-Broadway musicals, her time to come and hang out with me has become scarce, however she has promised to come visit when summer starts. Suzanne has been having so much fun at school she’s lost touch except for a few texts here or there. I have a few friends in my nursing classes, but we don’t talk outside of class.