by Rose Fall
“I can’t think of anything now.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess that’s fair,” I shrugged.
This time I knew exactly what was coming. I made a mental note to kill Rachel later.
“Who’s Ryan?”
“The-X,” I said automatically, though it was the first time I’d said the words out loud.
“Oh…can I ask what happened?”
“You just did.”
He smiled, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
I sighed. “The night of our graduation, I caught him in my bed with another girl.”
He just kept staring at me, so I continued on.
“It sucks because I’ve known him since we were ten. We used to be really good friends. I think that’s what I hated losing the most.” I did not know why I said as much as I did, or why I even agreed to answer his question, but by the time I started to regret it, it was too late.
"So, do you want me to beat him up for you?" He asked when I’d finished.
"No need. I did it myself," I smiled proudly.
He laughed again, "Of course you did."
"I'm not angry with him anymore. I sort of think he couldn't help himself," I said with a small laugh.
"We’re not all like that."
“Are you saying that you’ve never cheated on a girl before?”
“Uhh…”
“That’s my question!” I smiled, “Be honest.”
“…No, I’m not saying that. Just that I’m capable of not.”
“Just because you’re capable of something doesn’t mean you’re ever going to do it.”
“Wait! What I mean is that yes, I’ve cheated on a girl before and maybe in your eyes I’m just as horrible as this Ryan guy. But I can’t believe he cheated on you because…you’re too much to lose…I think if you’re with someone that you really care about, you’re not going to do anything to put your relationship in jeopardy because it’s not worth it.”
“So you’re saying…he never loved me.”
“I could be wrong…look I’ve probably overstepped some boundary here, I shouldn’t‒”
“No…it’s okay. I think you’re probably right. I’ve been looking for someone to clear that up for me so…thanks.” I swallowed.
“…Elle.”
“I should go home.”
We’re Like, Really Good at Playing Pretend
ODE TO OUR BELOVED COFFEE TABLE-
I jumped as I felt Ash peering over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” She asked in a disapproving tone.
“I thought we could write it a poem…”
She walked around the couch and stood over me, her hands on her hips. “You think this is funny, don’t you?”
I looked down at the poem Rachel and I had begun on the back of a delivery menu.
“You know it’s a little funny,” Rachel quipped, “It was literally a gust of wind that caused that thing to break. And you’re the one that opened the door, after all those obnoxious lectures about how we had to be careful.”
“Eli!” Ash exclaimed to me.
I was trying not to laugh and failing miserably. Our sorry excuse for a coffee table had finally collapsed. Like a house of cards, just as I’d predicted. It had practically transformed into a cloud of dust, still sitting in the middle of the living room, somehow looking equally as pitiful as it did when it was standing. I couldn’t say I was sad to see the thing go.
“You guys think this is funny but I’ll have you know that that table wasn’t just for aesthetic purposes‒”
Rachel snorted, and we both burst into another fit of laughter.
“My grandfather was really superstitious,” she yelled over us.
“He said bad things would happen if that table ever broke. I hope you guys are prepared,” she warned, bending over with a dust pan to clean up all of the wood shavings on the carpet.
“Oh heavens!” Rachel exclaimed, feigning a look of horror.
Ashton walked past me; the dust she had just picked up clouded the air in front of me and I began coughing.
“Look, Eli’s dying already,” Rachel laughed.
---
At some point after yesterday’s conversation, I had decided it would be a good idea to come clean to Jessie.
I felt like I owed him that, because in some way he had opened my eyes to a truth that I had been afraid to face. I was not too big a person to admit that I had been wrong about him. I realized that Jessie wasn’t Ryan, that he was someone better. Someone that maybe didn’t deserve any of the screwed up karma Rachel and I had decided to dump on him.
I wanted to end this before it was too late. But for whatever reason, I couldn’t muster up the courage to walk next door and tell him the truth. I’d been sitting in my room all day willing myself to get up. I was already prepared to stop trying to be a better person and surrender to the guilt when the bell contested my decision. Whatever happened to saved by the bell?
I dragged my feet down the stairs, already knowing who would be at the door.
I couldn’t seem to mask the dread that possessed my features. Jessie. Just the person I wanted to see.
“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. But something in his eyes gave him away; I could tell he was anxious to see how I would act after last night.
“Look, about yesterday, can we just-”
“Pretend it never happened? Right…okay.”
“Thanks,” I smiled, ignoring the disappointed look on his face.
“There’s still something I need to tell you.” I said slowly.
But then I thought, ‘What if I’m overreacting?’
Maybe he wouldn’t really care as much as I thought he would. It’s not like he had made some sort of a commitment to me or Rachel. Rachel. I hadn’t told her I was quitting. I’m not sure why, maybe I was afraid she would change my mind. As if that would be hard.
I pushed him out of the house and closed the door behind me.
He nodded. “What’s on your mind?”
I started fidgeting, which frustrated me even more. I walked off the porch and onto the sand as he followed reluctantly.
This was the moment of truth, literally. I wanted so badly to just blurt it out and get it over with. I stopped walking and turned towards him.
“Jessie, you’re….a good person…I never expected that.”
He stared at me in confusion.
“Look,” I said, trying to put some measure of confidence into my words. “I did something really awful and I wish I could take it back but I can’t. So I’m just going to tell you. When I-”
He used his fingers to cover his ears and started screaming, “La la la la I can’t hear you!!!!!!” at the top of his lungs, just like I had done the day before.
I stared at him in bewilderment, waiting for him to stop.
Eventually he did. “Don’t tell me, okay?”
It was my turn to stare in confusion. “What? But‒”
“No. No buts. I don’t want to know. Please don’t tell me.”
He gave me this disapproving look when I tried to argue. I protested halfheartedly, it wasn’t like I wanted to tell him anyway.
“But you don’t even know what I was going to say,” I said, already having resigned.
“I get this feeling that it’s nothing good. So, I don’t want to know. Just…pretend it never happened, okay?”
“Okay?” I meant to say in agreement, though it came out more like a question.
“Okay,” he smiled. “Ice cream?”
I smiled reluctantly.
---
I laughed uncontrollably as I watched Jessie trip and ruin some elaborate sandcastle a middle‒aged woman had built. The look on her face was of pure fury, she was five shades of red, her face almost matching the color of her hair. I could have sworn I saw steam coming out of her ears.
It’s what he deserved for trying so hard to be “cool”. He was showing off just like a bird would fla
unt its plumage to attract a mate. Only he failed, miserably. I laughed so hard I was on the ground along with my now sand-coated chocolate ice cream.
I barely cared. He walked back, or rather, ran back, scratching his head and quickly trying to get away from the woman.
“It wasn’t that funny,” he smiled when he reached me.
I shook my head, realizing I was laughing so hard I was crying.
He kneeled next to me, an amused look on his face. He used his thumb to wipe a tear off my cheek, in a quick motion that would make anyone think he’d done it a million times before. For me, it took all of the humor out of the situation. I stared down at my ice cream. I sighed, finally able to grieve the loss. He gave me a strange look.
“Aren’t you gonna offer to buy me more ice cream?” I smiled sweetly.
He stared at me like I had two heads, “Why would I do that?”
I rolled my eyes and looked back at my ice cream knowing, rationally, that I wouldn’t be able to wipe the sand off, but still considering it.
He seemed to be trying really hard not to laugh. “I think you’ve had enough, that thing was taller then you.”
I glared, pinching his arm in childish anger.
“That hurt!” He exclaimed.
“It was supposed to,” I returned in a taunting voice.
He sighed and rolled his eyes before standing up. I stayed where I was, pointedly ignoring him. He came back seconds later with an ice cream cone, three scoops of chocolate tall, just like the one I had before.
I looked up, smiling at the cone he was holding in front of me. I reached for it, but just before it was in my hand he pulled it away. I frowned, standing up, willing to fight for it. He raised it high so that I had to jump for it, and I probably looked ridiculous jumping up and down, trying to reach the cone without destroying it. The more annoyed I became the more fun he had. Finally, I resorted to crossing my arms and pouting.
He laughed, “As my dad always says, nothing in life is free.”
“What do you want?” I asked cautiously.
“Oh, you know what I want,” he said suggestively.
I watched the cone sadly, willing it not to melt. He rolled his eyes again, holding it out towards me. I made sure to snatch it quickly before he pulled it away again. I smiled gleefully at the cone.
---
"Where have you been all day?"
I looked up to find Rachel leaning on my door frame. I hadn't realized how much time had passed on the boardwalk.
I shrugged nonchalantly, "Out."
"Huh," she replied before coming in.
"What'd you do?"
"Just, beachy stuff. Walked, ate ice cream, normal stuff." I shrugged.
"All by yourself?" She asked innocently.
"No." I replied curtly.
"Did you go with Ashton?"
"Nope." I said, waiting patiently for the question I knew she wanted to ask.
"Did you go with Jessie?"
"Yes," I said, biting the inside of my cheeks.
"Interesting."
I nodded, meeting her gaze fearlessly. She stared at me for a long time, and I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but when she finally looked away she seemed satisfied.
"Well," she said, changing the subject. "You said you wanted to hang out; I'm all yours."
"Oh, now?" I asked.
"Hey, I'm a busy girl,” she shrugged, “It's not often that you get a chance like this."
I rolled my eyes. “Where do you want to go?" I asked.
"Wherever the wind takes us," she smiled mischievously, pulling me out of my chair.
---
The wind took us to a movie.
But that was apparently too tame for Rachel. And even I couldn't believe that we'd spent $20 on some stupid romantic comedy. So then the wind whisked us to some sort of arcade where Rachel beat me at every game and all of the guys couldn't tear their eyes away from her. And I decided the wind needed to take us far, far away from those hormonal teenage boys, so then we ended up at this drag racing place. It was more Rachel's idea than mine. Being the adrenaline junkie she was, she was very excited about this.
"If you're too scared to do this, speak now or forever hold your peace."
I rolled my eyes at her. I wasn't scared, I just wasn't excited.
I could think of better things to do, like taking a nap.
"Please! You’re just scared I’ll beat you," I said, almost convincingly enough for me to believe it.
She tilted her head, giving me a look as if to say, “Are you sensing a pattern here?” Then she shook her head and went to climb into her own car.
We were the only ones around, except for two or three other cars. All teenage boys, presumably. Rachel would want to run, or drive, circles around them. Normally I would say more power to her, but I didn’t really feel like dealing with one of us dying today.
I stepped into my own car before looking up at the ceiling of it. "If you’re up there, please don't let us die tonight, I have this Rocky Road ice cream in the fridge that I’d really like to finish before I go," I addressed to some questionable divine being.
I breathed deeply, shutting my door. The instructor had given us a basic safety lesson. Besides, I was no stranger to speed driving, Ryan used to love racing with random people on the highway. It was a miracle neither of us died. He was an idiot.
I turned the car on, cautiously. I decided to start out slow; something I thought was a sensible tactic. Rachel was not thinking the same thing, by the time I had pushed my speed to thirty she had passed me twice. That inspired me to really push it, all the way to forty! All the other cars were driving circles around me, but I tried not to let that bother me. After a few circles I managed to push it to fifty, then fifty-five, then sixty. That was my limit. Not enough to kill me, but enough to make me not seem like a total baby.
I was almost enjoying it. There was this adrenaline rush that didn't allow you to think about anything else, so that you were forced to forget everything but the present moment, the current stretch of track rather than some future destination.
I let out a scream of excitement. I felt such a thrill that I pushed the speed even more. I stared at the curve ahead, anticipating how exciting the turn would be. I got so excited that I turned the wheel too much, too soon. And then the car was going faster than I could think, and I’d probably never been more afraid.
I was forced to let my instincts guide me as I tried to remain calm. I turned the wheel ever so slightly in the opposite direction to correct my mistake. I just narrowly avoided being flattened by the wall. When I realized I had survived I was so shaken, I immediately stepped on the brakes, trying to give myself time to process what had just happened.
I would have died; I was so sure of it. Staring back at the curve, I could see how easily my fate could have turned out differently, I could see it all in front of me like it had actually happened and I’d gotten front row seats to the whole thing. The thought was perplexing; it had me completely shaken and very afraid.
But then there was this other feeling pulsating through my veins. I focused on trying to process it. What was that? That absurd mix of emotions, of excitement and fear, the feeling that every nerve in my body was more alive than it had ever been. I couldn’t put a name to it, but it felt like a gift. The mystery of it had me even more excited.
I let out another scream of excitement, louder this time and then I geared up to go again, even faster. At speeds so impossibly fast I couldn't dare to think.
My foot inched towards the gas pedal. Just as I was mustering up all my energy to slam it, I was distracted by the faint sound of skidding. I stopped automatically, fearing what might have happened. Then the skidding continued and I knew someone had lost control of their car, even worst then when I had, because it had become unbearably loud.
The sound grew even after I thought it couldn’t get any louder; it sounded as if it were leading up to an explosion. I kept my foot firmly planted on the brake and
turned my head to see what had occurred.
And then it hit me.
Nothing Hurts Forever
I felt nothing.
I couldn't feel, that was the first thing I registered. It was the first thing that made me worry. Was I paralyzed? Or just dead? The numbness of my body seemed to intensify my emotions, and I could feel myself becoming more and more alarmed.
How could I feel nothing?
I saw nothing.
Or rather, I saw darkness. That was the second thing I realized. Maybe I was in a dark room. It couldn't possibly be that dark, I reasoned. I realized it was probably just that my eyes were closed. Or maybe I was blind. Maybe I was dead.
The next thing I realized was how eerily quiet it was. Like life had been put on mute. And this supported my previous fear: that I’d been buried alive, or maybe this was death. This awareness accompanied with immobility, an eternity of just lying in a coffin and being able to register the horror of your fate but being powerless to do anything about it. Surely not everyone was subject to it; maybe I was in Hell. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have gone through with that stupid bet.’
But wait, I registered one…two…three sounds. No, not the raging fires of Hell. They were all strange yet familiar, and they occurred in regular intervals.
This was all I could process. Everything else seemed like a blur, but it didn’t sound like worms crawling into a coffin, so I could rule out being eaten alive. That brought some relief, though irrational since I still couldn't remember where I was, where I had been, or what had happened.
I could only recall flashes, bits and pieces that made no sense. I couldn't piece them together. It felt like trying to remember a dream from days ago. I couldn't comprehend any of it. I was so frustrated by my confusion. Then, it was almost as if the darkness was calling me, and I found it was much easier to succumb to it then to try to make sense of this strange dream...
--
When I opened my eyes, the first things I was greeted by were those bland white walls that I associated with asylums.
Then I felt these sharp, tortuous sticks in both my arms.
I noted the constant beeping and an annoying plop! sound.
I blinked, trying to clear my eyes.