How To Get Your Heart Broken

by Rose Fall

  Rachel did watch her weight; she didn’t eat anything fried or processed. I knew she counted calories, even if she didn’t do it out loud and she worked out religiously. Still, what I’d said obviously wasn’t true. Unfortunately, she didn’t dismiss it the way I’d hoped she would.

  “You’re talking about me counting calories? That’s funny, since you’re the one with the eating disorder,” she said with a sickly sweet smile on her face, as if she had been wishing me luck on a test.

  It got eerily quiet. I watched the marshmallow Jessie was holding over the fire burn to a crisp, again, and the flames encircle the whole stick because he held it there for so long.

  “It’s okay, we all have our imperfections, right? I count calories; I’m the shallow, dumb cheerleader that only cares about her weight, and boys. And Eli, well she’s got her

  mental issues, and her trust issues, and her bulimia issues…We can all still get along, right? Right, Ashton?”

  I was hurt. And shocked. No anger, no consuming desire to get even. Just hurt and shock. There wasn’t room for anything else. I did not reply. I was able to just sit there and take what she had said, but somehow Ashton couldn’t.

  “Unbelievable! You call yourself her friend, and as soon as you see some guy‒sorry Jessie‒Eli doesn’t even matter to you anymore! How dare you talk about her like that! Like you’re better than her when all you are is a self-centered bitch. You act like you’re queen of the world but you’re just a coward. You’re even scared of the ocean!”

  I watched Rachel’s face turn rigid. There was nothing Ashton could have called her that she hadn’t been called before; it was the fear she had recognized that had turned Rachel’s face so pale. Of course, Ashton didn’t know the reason Rachel was so afraid of the water, so she couldn’t have known the effect her words would have. But I did. And it was enough to almost make me want to comfort Rachel.

  I watched Jessie finally drop his wooden contraption into the fire, now that there was little left of it and the flames threatened to engulf his entire hand. I noticed how the fire grew, like the stick had been fuel. Like Rachel’s words had been. I watched the way Jessie looked at me. I resented it.

  Ashton grabbed my hand and I followed her absently, not knowing where we were headed, and not minding as long as it was away from them. I realized it was the first time Ashton had seen me cry. I realized I’d been trying to hold it in all that time, not wanting Rachel to see the damage her words had done. Despite everything, I didn’t want her to feel worse than she already would tonight.

  I wasn’t sure why I was crying. Or why I felt like someone was suffocating me. It was as if I’d learned some new, painstaking truth instead of one I’d been forced to face years ago. I felt as if someone had punched a hole right in the middle of me, and it was all because Rachel had spoken the truth. The truth I thought I knew. The truth I thought I could face.

  Your Lips Are Moving But I Don’t Hear Shit

  Rachel came home in the wee hours of the morning. Ash had been long asleep, thinking I was too. But I was too lost in thought to sleep, and I was completely in my own world until, like a hurricane that destroyed everything in its wake, Rachel burst through the front door and slammed into me in the midst of her drunken stumble.

  She was a mess. She couldn’t stand straight and her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat. She would have thrown up all over the couch if I hadn’t rushed to get a trash can in front of her. I couldn’t understand any of her muttering, broken up by deep sobs, like she was gasping for air. I could imagine she felt something like the way I did; it was the only thing that drove me to comfort her, despite the lingering feeling of betrayal.

  I sat there, meticulously pulling her hair from her eyes and lifting the trash can up to her face whenever she needed it. I shushed her murmuring and let her cry until she grew tired. Somehow, I managed to get her to bed before the sun came up. I left water and Advil by her nightstand and shut the door, knowing she probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. I was glad for it.

  ---

  We all avoided each other for a while, navigating the house like we were in some strange, twisted version of Pacman. For three days it remained eerily quiet, the only notable sounds being the ones I normally ignored; the sound of the shower, the creak of a step, the ding of the microwave.

  I wondered how long it would go on, who would break the silence first. I would have bet on Ashton, except she seemed angry with both Rachel and me. And so we kept to ourselves, three strangers that happened to be living in the same house. I was struck by the humor of that, surely no other set of strangers in the history of the Earth had had so much animosity towards each other.

  I thought of the irony of the situation, the fact that when I’d left Ryan behind, I thought I was leaving behind the betrayals and drama. He’d left me with a fear of weakness that I’d managed to control until Rachel opened her mouth. So, facing Jessie was the last thing I wanted to do. But, for so many reasons now, it was the only thing to do.

  So here I was once again at his doorstep, thinking that I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to take a restraining order out on me. But this visit had nothing to do with our game. I wasn’t sure what the point was, exactly. Maybe I thought he needed an explanation. For some reason I was supposed to be the one to give it.

  I knocked quietly, a part of me hoping he wouldn’t answer. Still, I took a deep breath and knocked again, more forcefully this time.

  When he opened the door, I noticed that his usual obnoxious smirk was gone, in its place a fairly serious expression. Somehow this made me uncomfortable, and oddly enough I found myself wishing that smirk would come back. I didn’t like the way he looked at me, like he felt sorry for me.

  “Hey?” It sounded more like a question than a greeting, but I tried to smile anyway. He closed the door behind him and motioned for me to join him on the porch swing.

  Neither of us knew what to say, and we sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like an eternity.

  “Eli?”

  I turned to look at him, feeling both anxious about what he was going to say next and startled by the interruption of the silence.

  “What are you doing here?” I could hear that it was curiosity that drove him to the question, rather than anything else, and the realization kept me from getting too offended.

  I sighed, thinking about it. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded. It was silent again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I raised an eyebrow in surprise, waiting for him to continue.

  “Rachel, she’s a real bi‒”

  “Stop,” I whispered sternly.

  “Are you serious? She‒”

  “Don’t. It’s complicated,” I sighed.

  “Are you really going to defend her? After everything she said?”

  I could sense curiosity being overtaken by frustration. He, just like many others before him, could not understand the relationship Rachel and I had.

  “It’s really none of your business!” I felt myself getting angry. I could feel his eyes on me for a long time. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, but he decided against it.

  “You’re right,” he said resignedly. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”

  “No,” I relented with a sigh. “It’s okay. You can ask.”

  I could hear his reluctance, even as he finally spoke. “Was it all true?”

  I’d already prepared myself for this conversation. I was amazed by how little a difference it made.

  “All of my issues?” I laughed humorlessly. I avoided his eyes like my life depended on it. It felt as if it did.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly.

  “Oh…okay,” he said. I wondered if he felt as stupid as he sounded, having said the worst thing he could have said.

  “Well…I’m sorry, about your…issues.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied.

 
; He scratched his head, his hair becoming increasingly more disheveled as he continued.

  I sighed, standing up quickly, “You know what? I’m gonna go.”

  “Wait…Eli,” I heard him call when I was already halfway back to our island.

  I turned around. I could tell he had already changed his mind again on whatever he was going to say.

  “Bye.” He waved.

  I rushed back to the house, trying to make sense of his useless words. I hadn’t expected our conversation to go the way it did. But there was this nagging voice in my head asking; “What did you expect Eli? What did you want?”

  ---

  Some days are made for confrontation. Well, that was the conclusion I came to when I found Ash sitting on my bed.

  “We need to talk,” she said when I walked in. I smiled and joined her, wanting to forget the encounter I had just had.

  “You first,” I said.

  “Okay…are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I nodded in surprise.

  She hesitated.

  “I’m okay…really,” I tried to smile.

  “Okay,” she said again, sighing.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Ash,” I said quietly. I knew I couldn’t blame her for being angry, but the only reason I was actually sorry was because I’d hurt her.

  She nodded, “Okay, but why…?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?”

  She nodded again.

  “I didn’t tell anyone really, Rachel kind of just… found out.”

  “Okay, I guess…” She added, “Are you, okay?”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, with eating…” She rambled awkwardly.

  “Ash that was a really long time ago. I’m fine now.”

  She nodded again. She was silent for a while.

  “Is it true…you felt sorry for me?” She asked hesitantly, adhering to her unfortunate habit of asking questions she didn’t really want the answer to.

  I sighed, “What do you want me to say Ash? Of course I felt bad…”

  I thought of all the days she ate lunch alone. The way no one seemed to notice her in the halls, as if they could just walk through her. And she seemed to buy into the idea of her own invisibility, trying to make herself as small as possible, apologizing for her own existence with every move she made and every word she spoke.

  I looked up to see the tears threatening to spill. “But…” I tried to say quickly, “You’re not some charity case…you’re my best friend…I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not mad,” she said, wiping the tears from her face. “I…I just wonder how I ended up being that girl. Like there’s something wrong with me…”

  I couldn’t understand what she said after that, but I hugged her anyway, nodding periodically to give her the impression that I understood. I hugged her until she finally stopped sobbing. She pulled away, delicately brushing droplets from her eyelashes, “I’m sorry. I feel so stupid, you have more important things to deal with.”

  That was why I never told Ashton. I mean, I didn’t tell anyone, but especially not her. From now on she would probably watch me every time I ate; she would make that face whenever I said I wasn’t hungry. She would be like an overbearing mother and the fact that I knew she meant well wouldn’t make it any less frustrating. I didn’t mind so much when only Rachel knew, she never talked about it, not even in the beginning. Of course this tended to be how Rachel coped with things, the same way she was dealing with what Ashton had brought up.

  I smiled reassuringly, “It’s okay.”

  “If there’s anything I can do to help‒.” She stopped when I shook my head at her.

  “Actually,” a thought struck me, “There is something you could do to help me.”

  She waited eagerly.

  “You could apologize to Rachel,” I said quickly, hoping she’d agree before registering my words.

  She frowned, “I’m sorry, can’t do that.” She was out the door before I could say anything else.

  I groaned. I’d never heard Ash say no to anyone before. I knew already this was going to be a summer of firsts. I was still hoping some of them would be for the better.

  It’s Always the Quiet Ones

  I looked up anxiously at the sound of a knock on my door. Ironically, Ash had stopped talking to me when I’d tried to restore peace by asking her to apologize to Rachel. And the only contact I actually had with Rachel was when I would occasionally check her room at night to make sure she had come home. Needless to say, I was a bit anxious at the prospect of having a visitor.

  "Come in," I said curiously. "Rachel?" I questioned, more in surprise than anger as I watched her walk in.

  Her arms were locked behind her back and she was biting her lip. She looked almost nervous, except that Rachel was never nervous.

  I sat up from my bed and waited for her to break the silence.

  Her hand shifted. I realized she was holding something behind her back.

  I raised an eyebrow at her, “What is it?”

  She led out a loud sigh, and then stepped forward as if she might change her mind if she waited any longer. She dumped the package in front of me, and I waited a minute before looking down at it.

  I couldn’t stop the smile that came to my face as I stared down at it. Rachel was the best at apologizing without using words.

  It was a red and white Christmas stocking that said my name on the front of it. It was stuffed full with cherry-flavored candy canes, which were peeking out from the top.

  This was the same apology gift Rachel had given me in the 7th grade, after she’d kissed my first boyfriend (also, ironically named Ryan) during the last slow dance of the Winter Formal. It was the same gift she’d given me after my dog died freshman year (that one was actually not her fault, but she felt guilty that I’d been sleeping over at her house when it happened). It had become this silly tradition between us, and even though it didn’t change any of the horrible things she’d said, it still made me smile.

  “How’d you find candy canes in July?”

  “Believe me, it was harder than you’d think. I would have apologized sooner, but I didn’t want to show up empty handed and it took a while to get that stocking monogrammed.”

  I nodded absently.

  She eyed the edge of my bed awkwardly, for once waiting for my permission to sit.

  “You can sit down. I’m not going to bite you.”

  “Promise?”

  “You know I don’t make promises,” I said teasingly.

  She looked down at the stocking of overflowing candy canes between us, and then sat down on the other side of it.

  “I’ve never regretted anything I’ve said more.”

  “Wow,” I snorted, “You’ve said some pretty awful things.”

  “I know…” she paused. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you…I’m sorry.”

  Now it was my turn to sigh. “I know you are, Rachel.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you accepting my apology.”

  When provoked, Rachel could, at a moment’s notice turn into this monster that seemed to know exactly what to say to make someone feel infinitely small.

  I'd seen her do it numerous times, to me, Ash, her parents, anyone. But revealing my deepest secret, to perhaps the last two people I ever wanted to know was a new low, even for her.

  Still, I knew she really was sorry. I also knew it wouldn’t be the last time she would do something like this. But I certainly wasn’t a saint, and I’d had my fair share of screw ups too. And though Rachel was slow to apologize, she had always been quick to forgive.

  There was no explaining it to anyone else, but Rachel and I could forgive each other for anything. After all, wasn’t that what it meant to love someone unconditionally?

  “Fine,” I said abruptly. “I’ll forgive you, on one condition.”

  I took a breath, anticipating her resistance. "Apologize to Ashton," I finished.

  It was amazing how quickly her fac
e reverted back to the hard mask she normally wore when she wasn’t feeling guilty or apologetic.

  I sighed, "Rachel, you know she wouldn’t have said that if she knew... if you would tell her..."

  "I’m not telling her a damned thing. And why should I bother apologizing? I’ve never liked her, and I don’t see the point in pretending."

  "Well, fine then,” I looked away, “Forget it."

  "Eli," she sighed. "Seriously?"

  I shook my head, "If you’re not going to be friends the least you can do is be civil. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for."

  "It is a lot to ask for."

  I shrugged. She pouted at me, like I was one of those boys that lusted after her, as if I could ever be swayed by her ridiculous expression. I raised an eyebrow.

  "I can't believe I'm doing this," she finally sighed, shaking her head.

  "Thanks," I smiled, taking her comment as a surrender.

  "Why does it matter to you anyway? We’re not going to become BFFs and braid each other’s hair if that’s what you’re hoping for," she said, rolling her eyes.

  When I first met Ash, Rachel had told me that I “had a thing for charity cases” and needed to know it wasn't my duty to “save the world.” I wasn't naive enough to think they would hit it off, but their relationship was starting to feel reminiscent of my parents’, and I refused to let them stoop to that level. I was still convinced that one day they would bond over their one shared interest: me.

  "Read my lips Elle." She said slowly, as if she was saying something very difficult to grasp, "Never. Going. To. Happen."

  I pretended I hadn’t heard her.

  "Seriously, come on! Me and Ashton?" She laughed, as if the idea was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard.

  Sure they were different, but they would be good for each other, a healthy balance. "Never say never! I’m the pessimist, and I actually do believe that someday you and Ash can be, dare I say it," I paused for dramatic effect, "BFFs!"

  She rolled her eyes at me, but I noticed the smile she was trying to hide.

  Then a thought struck me, “Does this mean I have to start going running with you again?”