by Rose Fall
A part of my brain seem to be screaming the answer to Rachel’s question. ‘Being happy!’ It said. It wasn’t supposed to be a difficult question, I knew. But I worried I’d gone too far to admit all of the things I’d been wrong about now. I felt Jessie’s thumb brush my cheek and my thoughts dissipated momentarily.
With his forehead still stuck to mine, he smiled, “I’m going to get through to you.” His eyes were shinning and his voice had all of the determination and optimism I once thought was found only in children, who had yet to learn the truth about people and all of their lies.
I was going to be the one to change that, I would become the weight in his words, the one that would take away this last bit of innocence he’d held on to. I was sure of it. And though I knew I’d always be sorry for this, that my guilt would linger even after I was long gone, I was glad that he would never forget me.
And I knew I was the worst person, I wasn’t surprised by the salty taste in my mouth. My tears were a product of my shame, but they were also an indication of broken flood gates. My heart had grown heavier than the rest of me, the burden of all the tears I’d never cried having weighed it down for so long. But in this seemingly insignificant moment he had changed me forever, and he made it impossible for me to lie to myself any longer.
“Jessie, I…” I closed my eyes, my panic temporarily quieted as he kissed my cheeks, the tears disappearing where he did.
“Just the two people I was looking for!”
I squinted into the sun, which seemed to be shinning directly onto us from Jessie’s open front door.
I couldn’t process anything until he greeted her with an enthusiastic, “Hey Rachel!”
His hands dropped from my face, and I felt as if I’d just woken up. I remained silent.
“That new movie is coming out today, Siamese Demons, and I figured you two are just the people to see it with! Eli and I haven’t gotten out of the house in forever and… ” their voices faded out, like background noise. I was much too enveloped in my own thoughts.
Even when they’d called my name I still felt far away, and I nodded distractedly at Jessie’s question.
“You sure she likes scary movies?”
“Yeah, Eli loves them. I think it’s time to get her off the meds…”
I hurried out of the house, wondering how I would ever be able to keep it together ever again. I supposed this was what they meant when they said the truth always comes out. Why hadn’t they mentioned it was thick and suffocating, even denser than the lies it had been buried under? I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, prepared to pay for my sins.
--
I was unpleasantly surprised when Jessie placed himself beside me on the bench in the furthest corner of the arcade area, which I’d been convinced was a good hiding place.
“I knew you didn’t like scary movies! You know it’s not real, right?”
I remained silent. Today had felt like the longest day of my life. I didn’t even have the energy to answer him.
“I’m kidding,” he said after a while, playfully nudging me.
His expression changed after he realized I wasn’t not going to reply the way he wanted me to.
“I wish you’d talk to me. You’ve been acting strange all day. Am I that bad of a kisser? ” Behind his joke seemed to be subtle concern, which his eyes gave away. I managed to smile, shaking my head no at his silly question.
“Well, that’s a relief,” he said, and after a few minutes of silence, “Wanna play?” he asked, pointing towards the air hockey table. “C’mon,” he encouraged after seeing my expression.
So I did, and though I could barely find the strength to walk the two feet to the table, I put all of my energy into the game because I didn’t know how much time we had left and because I owed him so much.
Confession
“Do you remember the night we met?” I asked, thinking out loud.
“Eli,” Rachel sighed, “You’re not old enough to sit around reminiscing about the good old days. Get a grip.”
“Nothing about those days were good,” I said mostly too myself.
“You’re taking morbid to a new level. And why are you lying on the floor? Does the ceiling hold infinite wisdom and the answer to all of your problems?”
I didn’t reply, but I heard her footsteps approaching. And then the ceiling spun as she lifted me off the living room floor and sat me up.
“If only,” I sighed, adding, “But I only have myself to blame.”
“You could blame me,” she said, heading back towards the kitchen.
“I could,” I agreed. “On second thought; this is all your fault!” I said teasingly.
“You’re insane,” she said when I began laughing.
“You never answered my question,” I said, following her into the kitchen.
She looked up at me for only a split second, and then returned to what she was doing, pushing the loudest option on the blender like she was trying to drown the whole world out.
Flashbacks. They were becoming a constant companion.
“Do you remember the night we met?” I repeated when she stopped.
She sighed, “Elle, this isn’t funny anymore. Just stop thinking,” she grabbed her shake, throwing the blender into the sink. “I’m going on a run,” she finished.
“You’re always running,” I mumbled. She raised a quizzical eyebrow.
It was Landon Shenir’s house. I remember because he’d smacked my butt in the hallway one day, and I wondered if he only invited me to his party to get revenge on the way I’d humiliated him afterwards.
But I went anyway because Lucy and Alexis wanted to, and because when I’d told them about my theory, Lucy had said, “Get a grip Eli, you’re starting to sound like my cousin Sammy.”
Cousin Sammy liked to torture frogs he found in the creek behind Lucy’s house. He scared the crap out of all us, even though he was younger. Lucy swore he’d tried to drown her once when they were kids.
I’d started only a few weeks before. I couldn’t really give anyone a reason; it was just a number of little things. It was no secret that I looked nothing like the girls in the magazines, and I noticed that I was treated differently by the guys too. The fact that the clothes my mother bought me were always two sizes too small had gotten me into the habit of always sucking in and taking very small steps.
I realized that whenever we went shopping, I would stand next to Lauren and hear old women say something to my mother about what a ‘beautiful child’ she was and wait for them to say something like that about me. I was too busy trying to squeeze into size two Levis to accept that my curves were in my genes. My mother wanted me to look like her. It meant getting rid of half of me. Of course, I was used to being split in the middle.
Later I would be asked “Why?” by so many people that the word started to lose its meaning. But every time I shrugged, my brain would flashback to all of these little moments.
It was something someone had said. Landon left me alone, but one of his friends had felt the need to seek revenge for him. I didn’t cry, having already bought into the idea that tears were a sign of weakness. But I needed release. And while some of my classmates chose spiked punch as the way to find it, I could never find such a loss of control comforting.
Control. I’d needed control. What I ate was the only thing I could control, especially in the midst of my parent’s divorce, an unfortunate event that children often blame themselves for.
At least that was what the therapist had said. I told her she was a fraud that got paid to tell people what they already knew.
But that was later. After my parents found out. After I ended up in the hospital.
Right then I was in the bathroom, searching for the toothbrush I always carried with me and realizing I’d left my purse in Lucy’s brother’s car.
I never liked to admit this, because it made me feel even more like a freak, but I never used my fingers. I couldn’t, it felt worse. With the toothbrush it felt l
ike part of a daily routine, like it was ok. Shove my toothbrush down my throat, brush my teeth, apply lip-gloss. I never looked myself in the mirror when I did it, and using my fingers gave me an unwanted chance to reflect.
I was searching through the bathroom, moving the large plastic covers which hid everything that was in the middle of being remodeled, the very reason I’d picked this bathroom, when I realized I had only had one choice: look myself in the mirror and face my shame.
I was already crying when I decided to shove my fingers down my throat. It was in the midst of my lowest point, gaging over my own fingers, tears and snot dripping all over by face and crouched over the Shenirs’ brand new sink that a girl, thin and taller than any of the guys in my class walked in. She had almond shaped eyes and hair that looked like it’d been cut out of a shampoo commercial and placed on her head. Her clothes adhered to all of the latest trends, her smooth, dark skin making her appear unique and exciting.
We stared at each other in silence, me automatically loathing her because she looked so much like those girls in the magazines, those girls I envied so much, and her probably feeling sorry for me and thinking of how unfortunate it would be to be me.
“My mom always says the only people who skip steps are the ones who don’t believe they’re gonna make it to the top anyway,” she’d said.
I was deeply offended at the time. I didn’t understand the relevance of her words, but I felt I was being looked down on, and there was nothing that made me angrier then pity and ignorance.
Later I would realize how wrong I’d been. I would learn that if I hadn’t molded her with my own assumptions and ignorance the moment she’d walked in, I would have been able to see how much we already had in common, and how similar we would later become once life had taken its toll on both of us.
But I couldn’t see that, not then. Chocking on my own spit, I said, “Spare me the inspirational quotes and let me throw up in peace.”
She said nothing. She stood there and waited as I tried again, after I’d decided to ignore her. When I began coughing over the sink, after my second failed attempt she pulled out a toothbrush, holding it up like she was trying to entice me, “You can take it,” she said, and I got off the floor, walking over to take it from her without thinking twice about it. She pulled it away at the last moment, holding it over her head where there was no hope of me reaching it.
She continued, “But it will never be enough. You can keep doing this until there’s nothing left in you and you’ll still be just as miserable.”
“Do you remember saying that?” I asked as she paused at the door. “You’re the one with infinite wisdom, Rachel. I think you were really on to something.”
“Well done,” I said absently after she’d sat in the chair next to me. She placed her elbows on the island, her hands on either side of her face making her look remarkably like the younger version of herself, the one I’d met that day.
“Alright, listen closely cause I’m about to blow your mind,” she said seriously. “All of those things I said, about me and Jessie and him kissing me, and all of the things I did to stir up drama like asking both of you guys to the movies and then flirting with him in front of you and all of that…I did it all for you.”
Her hand was clamped over my mouth before I got the chance to open it, “Just shut up and listen, ok? It’s a concept you haven’t quite grasped, I know, but just do it.”
She slowly removed her hand, and then she continued, “Eli, only one person in this room is an idiot, and it’s not me. I tried to get you to admit how you felt. I told you if you asked me to back out I would. I just wanted you to be happy.”
“You have some questionable methods,” I said after she paused.
“Well I wouldn’t be me otherwise,” she rolled her eyes.
“Whenever Jessie and I spent time together, we were talking about you. He never stops talking about you.” I raised an eyebrow, she sounded annoyed.
“He’s the one that called Ryan after the accident, because he said that you deserved better than the way he treated you the last time you saw him. And he went to that guy’s funeral, he even convinced me to go with him and he said the whole thing was really sad but “better him than you.” And…and he was there after Jared ditched you. And he says that you’re brave and… beautiful and everything you’ve ever wanted to be, and everything you’ve ever wanted to hear from someone that means them. He’s that person for you.”
“Pinch me,” I murmured, everything she’d said was so unlike of Rachel, I wondered if I was dreaming.
She placed her hands in mine, and trapped me with an unwavering gaze, “This was never really a competition, Elle. His heart’s always been yours.”
I was speechless. Devastated. Ashamed. Hopeful. I wanted everything she said to be true, but even if it was, it wouldn’t be for much longer.
I’d often felt like Rachel and Jessie were a team, and they were. But all this time I’d thought they were a team against me they’d actually always been on my side, even when I wasn’t.
While I stared uselessly, Rachel continued. “You know, I don’t have faith in people because the ones around me have never given me a reason to. And as cynical and closed up as we both are, the truth is no one hopes for someone to give them a reason as much as you and I do. And Jessie is that reason for you. I know how many times you’ve been hurt and how scary this all is but if I ever found someone with the slightest possibility of being better than all of the shitty men in our lives, I’d never let them go.”
“I don’t think you can really call yourself a cynic anymore Rachel,” I smiled. I tried to wrap my head around the realization that I still had so much to learn about her, though I’d been so sure that I knew her like the back of my hand.
“Think of me as a hopeful cynic then,” she smiled.
“I think Ash may be rubbing off on you,” I replied.
I smiled at her look of disgust, but a pestering thought filled my head.
“Rachel…” I hesitated, wondering how to phrase my question, “Do you have feelings for Jessie?” I settled for bluntness.
With a mischievous grin on her face she said, “What would you do if I did?”
I shrugged, attempting to give her a real answer, “I don’t know…but it matters to me.”
She smiled, “I guess I can see why you’d think I do, but I just meant that I think he’s good. But don’t worry Eli,” she began teasingly, “He never gave me the time of the day. Honestly, it was almost offensive.”
I laughed, acknowledging that she had every reason to be vain and knowing it didn’t make it any less annoying.
“It doesn’t really matter,” I said, immediately sobering.
She seemed to know what I meant, “Look, I know when we started this we had some really shitty reasons, but what’s important is the way you feel now. You care about him, don’t you?”
“Of course,” I nodded already knowing where this was going.
“And you’re sorry for what you did?”
“Every second,” I agreed, thinking of how I was haunted by the truth of that.
“Well then you’ve learned your lesson,” she concluded. “There’s no reason for you to tell him.”
“Except that he deserves the truth.” And I couldn’t contain any more lies, I thought.
I’d finally stopped obsessing over her question because I’d figured out the answer.
“What’s more important to you? Your pride or your happiness?”
‘It doesn’t matter.’ That was what I’d realized. I had to give up both, because Jessie deserved the truth. But it was worth it. It would never make up for what I’d done, but I was willing to give him all I could.
“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ignorance is bliss? You don’t tell the truth to people you love. You’re just going to hurt him. If you do tell him, it’s because you’re selfish and you’re just trying to cope with the guilt.”
I laughed humorlessly, knowing that sounded e
xactly like something I would expect Rachel to say, “I’ll take the accusation, and the possibility of their being truth to it. It’s not going to change my mind though.”
She stared quizzically, “Has it occurred to you that you’re just trying to hurt him before he hurts you? You assume he’s never going to talk to you again‒”
“I know he won’t,” I interrupted, completely sure of this.
“You don’t have to deal with all of the uncertainty that would come with a relationship if you end it now.”
“You know what?” I sighed, “Maybe you’re right. So what?”
“You are your own worst enemy,” she shook her head. “But I’ll be here when you screw all of this up.”
I smiled, torn between being touched and annoyed, “This might be the most we’ve talked all summer without trying to kill each other.”
“Well, you’ve been a bitch,” she smiled as if it would soften the blow.
‘There’s the Rachel I know and don’t love,’ I thought. But I knew there was truth to her words.
“Sorry, especially about the almost dying and then‒”
“I know,” she cut in. “You’ll have enough to be sorry for soon enough.”
“Thank you,” I said genuinely, wanting to find some way tell her all the things she felt uncomfortable hearing and I felt uncomfortable saying.
She gave me a tentative pat on the back, similar to the way one would pet a snake.
But my mind was elsewhere; my stomach had already begun to turn at the thought of the next conversation I had to have.
---