by Jessica Roe
“She wanted you to get a job?”
“No.”
It takes a while but he finally gets it. “You mean...sex? She wanted you to have sex with men? To sell yourself?” He sounds appalled, and rightly so.
I nod miserably. “We argued and I told her I hoped she died and then I just left. I just ran out and left her. But I didn't mean it, Silver. I swear I didn't mean it.” I'd thought he'd be disgusted with me when I told him, that he'd hate me for sure, but I was wrong. Instead of pulling away and telling me to leave like I deserve, he holds me impossibly tighter and rocks me gently from side to side. I'm grateful. I haven't let any of this out since Fen.
“It's not your fault. Please tell me you don't think it was your fault. Your mom was an addict. She was sick.”
“I know,” I assure him, and I do. Kind of. At least logically. Fen made me see sense when I was sure the guilt would consume me but...my heart will always feel the weight of blame. “But the last image I have of my mother in my mind is on the floor, dead, and before that she was always strung out and frail and sick. That picture was all I had to remind myself of what she used to look like, when she was beautiful and vibrant and just so full of life. It's how I wanted to remember her but now I'll forget. I know she was awful and a terrible mom but she was my mom and I loved her and I try to forget how much I loved her but I can't and now I'm going to forget what she looked like.” My heart is beating rapidly and my chest is tightening again...another panic attack. “I'll forget, Silver!”
“Shh.” He rubs a soothing hand up and down my back and I feel myself calm just a little, but probably only because it's him. And then he pulls back suddenly, an idea lighting up his eyes. “What about that guy? The one you liked? Ian, right?”
“You remember his name?”
“I remember everything you say to me,” he says sweetly.
For a moment I can't quite formulate words. “What about him?” I manage to get out eventually, though my voice is thick and not my own.
“He spent time with you guys, right? Maybe he has pictures.”
Hope blossoms inside my chest. Ian did like taking pictures. He'd had an old fashioned polaroid camera and Mom had loved to prance around, posing for him, pretending to be a model. She'd laugh as he clicked away and the sound would make my heart sing.
But sucky old reality crashes down. “It's been years. I could never find him now.”
“It's 2014, idiot. You can find anyone these days on the internet.”
I groan. “You know I'm no good with that crap. I had to get Ila to set me up an email account. My little sister, Ila.”
“And you have the cheek to mock me for driving like an old man. You're just a little technologically challenged old lady.”
“Well, we can be old fogies together.”
He chuckles. “Deal. But anyway, I'll help you!” He says it so earnestly, like this is something he really wants to do, and I know it probably is because he's just awesome that way. The ice inside my heart left over from my latest mom drama slowly begins to melt. “I'll make you a facebook page and we can use it to search for him. And if he doesn't have facebook then he's as crazy as you but we'll...”
I stop listening as he continues to chatter about the internet and other things I have no clue about. I just watch his face, still red from pulling off the beard, and the way he waves his hands in the air excitedly and I realize it's too late. It's already too late.
I'm in love with him.
It's the best feeling I've ever experienced, and yet it hurts like hell.
MUCH LATER, I finally drag myself back home. It's a half hearted effort I make to get ready for Kip's party and I know I need to pick my ass up before I leave so I don't bring everyone else down.
I'm just not sure what feels worse—the memories of my mom or the heartbreaking revelation that I'm in love with a guy I can't possibly have.
Oliver comes up to see me again so my morose thoughts are interrupted before they can return to that deep, dark place they used to visit so often, which can only be a good thing.
I glance at him in the mirror as he enters but I don't turn around, too busy applying my make up and hating him for ever dragging me away from Fen and bringing me here.
He watches me for a while, curiously, like it hadn't occurred to him that I did regular things like put on make up. You know, when I wasn't terrorizing old ladies and setting fire to cars or whatever.
“I'm sorry,” he says eventually.
“For what?”
“The photo of Val...it's my fault. Felicia caught me looking at it and...” He trails off, lost in a wistful memory of my mom. Because that was the kind of person she was; she was awful, she ruined lives, and yet everyone was drawn to her. Everyone wanted her. “It meant nothing. I was just looking, but Felicia was angry.”
He doesn't say anything after that. He doesn't really need to.
FIRST SEMESTER IS almost over and Winter Break approaches rapidly, as does the deadline for my first art project.
I stay after school with Mr Napoleoni one evening while we debate over which of my photos to use for the project. Out of all my teachers, Mr Napoleoni is the one who seems to believe in me the most.
We narrow the photos down to a select few, but I still can't decide which I like the best.
The door to the art room opens behind our backs, startling us. Across the room a couple of other students, also working on their projects, snicker. I flip them the bird and Mr Napoleoni pretends not to see.
“Jaden, you ready to head out?” Silver asks, before realizing Mr Napoleoni isn't alone in the room. He told me once that sometimes the two of them play basketball after school.
An amusing myriad of emotions crosses his face when he sees me standing there with Mr Napoleoni—surprise, confusion, suspicion, jealousy, frustration and bemusement with himself when he realizes how irrational that jealousy is. This all happens within the space of a few seconds and then he regains composure—I doubt anyone else even noticed. I have to fight not to laugh.
“Come on in,” Mr Napoleoni calls, waving him over. Silver joins us at the desk we're leaning against. He raises his eyebrows as he views my photos, impressed.
I look at them again, trying to see them objectively from an outsider's point of view, from his point of view, because his opinion matters to me in ways that other people's don't.
For chaos I have a photo of a classroom full of freshman students that Kip and I had taken through the window like a pair of stalkers—the teacher had not been impressed, which had amused us greatly. At first glance the class is sitting quietly as the teacher lectures, but upon closer inspection the boredom and the desperation to be free is clear on the faces of every student in the way they watch the clock, and the teacher is visibly frustrated; a time bomb waiting to explode.
There is another of a family eating at a restaurant. They look like the perfect all American family, but there's a bitterness in the mother's eyes and a storm brewing as she watches her husband unabashedly lust after the waitress.
The last is simply of a shadow, and I see the exact moment Silver realizes that it's his shadow. No one else could know it was him, and no one else but him could understand why this image is chaotic to me. It's probably why it won't end up in the project. A resigned frown makes the corners of his lips curl down, and he moves over to pursue the photos we narrowed down for harmony.
Kip laughing hysterically as a gust of wind blows a stack of papers out of his hands, his eyes shining in the winter sunlight.
Granny Yo fast asleep with her mouth wide open in her favourite armchair, a half knitted jumper abandoned on her lap and the ball of yarn escaping across the floor by her feet.
My friends in a messy bedroom, ball gowns and suits strewn across the bed, their faces glowing with happiness as they help each other to get ready.
A glass jar with a single piece of paper inside. The stars in the night sky. A willow tree.
Silver shakes his head. “These a
re...incredible, Blair. I had no idea you were so talented.” He sounds impressed, but there's also a slight accusation in his voice, like he's wondering why I never shared this with him before.
It means a lot to me that he approves.
I know the pictures fit outside the guidelines; they're things most people wouldn't consider chaotic, or harmonious, and they're pretty personal, like little windows to my soul. I know they probably mean something different to me than they will to other people, but that's what I want. I want whoever looks at them to find their own stories in each photo, to find their own chaos and their own harmony.
“She's good, right?” Mr Napoleoni pats me on the shoulder. “One of the best I've had in class in a while.”
“I can see that.” He folds his arms and grins at me around Mr Napoleoni. “Looks like you found your passion, huh? Something you may want to pursue in college?”
It hadn't occurred to me before, but I realize he's right.
WINTER BREAK PASSES by so fast I barely have time to blink. Snowstorms take over the sky and we're all forced to spend most of our time indoors. Things with my siblings are great but the atmosphere between me and Oliver and Felicia is cold and strained and I find myself spending most of break with Granny Yo or my friends, though Zac, home for the holidays, follows me around like a lost puppy. I think he's jealous of how close Nash and I became while he was away at college. I don't mind; we're so alike that sometimes it really does feel like we're twins.
On Christmas Day after everyone has finished eating dinner with their respective families, I meet up with Ibbie, Kip, Rafe and Sadie under our favourite willow tree. We drink Sadie's specially spiked eggnog and make snow angels and promise each other that no matter where we go to college next year, no matter what happens, we'll come back here to this spot every Christmas and do exactly this. I'd always thought that once I left this town, that would be it, I'd never come back. But for these guys...maybe.
The day before New Years Eve, Nash, Zac and I help Silver shovel snow out of his drive. At least, that's what the guys do. I sit on the hood of the Jeep drinking cocoa while they work, occasionally throwing out handy instructions, though they're usually met with a cuss from Nash.
The snowstorms have finally passed, but it's still effing cold, so I hold my warm mug to my chest to ward off the shivers.
“What are your plans for tomorrow night?” I ask Silver, swinging my legs back and forth against the Jeep. He kicks snow at me to make me stop and then leans on his shovel, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“I'll be here with Grams. I was invited to a party at the museum-”
“Wait, there's a museum in town?”
A tut. “Seriously? Kids today...”
“Oh my God. Shut up so bad, I was kidding. Why aren't you going to your party? Is that the one you were talking about the other week?”
He reaches over and steals my mug, taking a grateful gulp before handing it back. I try to conceal my smile. “Because I don't want to leave Grams alone, and yes, it is the party I was talking about.” I can tell he's trying to hide it but he seems genuinely bummed about missing this stupid party. From what I remember—I wasn't really listening to him at the time—apparently anyone who's anyone in the history world attends, so...yeah, lame. But man, that heartbroken look on his little face...
“Don't be dumb,” I say. “You should go. Otherwise who else is gonna come by and tell us boring stories about their night the day after?”
“But-”
“My friends have all been roped in to doing stuff with their families, and my only other offer was from Gage. He's cute and all but I'm totally not going anywhere with him without Kip around to keep him in line in case he thinks it's a date.”
“Is that Gage Chadwick?” Nash pipes up, suddenly interested.
“Yuh huh.”
“Heard he's an awesome ball player. Might even be as good as I was...but probably not. Almost though.” All three of us roll our eyes. My brother isn't known for his modesty. “Yeah, you should totally date him.”
“No you shouldn't,” Silver says quickly, causing both Nash and Zac to look over at him questioningly. He opens his mouth, struggling for something to say, and I waggle my eyebrows teasingly at him while my brothers aren't watching. “I just mean...you really want your sister dating a jock, man?”
“Good point,” Zac agrees, nodding.
Nash crosses his arms over his shovel defensively. “Hey! I was a jock.”
“Exactly!” Silver looks triumphant. “Remember what you were like in high school?”
My brother considers this. “Whoa. Good point. Yeah, Blair, you are officially forbidden from dating Gage Chadwick. Jocks are bad news.”
“Musicians too,” Zac adds.
“And actors.”
“You should probably just avoid guys altogether,” Zac decides for me. “But especially Gage Chadwick.”
I feel like slapping all three of them. Boys can be such idiots. Specifically brothers. And...history teachers. “Well now I want to date him.”
Silver picks up his shovel and slams it down into the snow extra hard, glaring at nothing in particular. Luckily Nash and Zac are too busy protesting to take much notice.
“Not a chance-”
I hold up my hand to stop Nash. “You're not the boss of me. Put a sock in it. And this is way off the point. What I was trying to say is that I have no plans for New Years Eve, so I can hang with Granny Yo and Silver can go to his super awesome party full of old dead things.”
Zac eyes me curiously. “But I thought-”
“As long as he promises not to tell me all about it the next day,” I joke. I actually don't mind when he talks my ear off about boring history stuff. I mean, I don't listen or anything, I just like to watch his mouth move when he talks. I'm a freak.
“Are you sure?” he asks, hardly daring to believe his luck.
“It sure as heck beats sitting around in my room on my own like a total loser.”
“Thanks, Blair! You're the best!” He squeezes my shoulder happily.
I finish my cocoa quickly and head on home. Up in my room, I call Ibbie. “Hey,” I say. “Bad news. Turns out I can't make your party tomorrow night.”
BY 11.15PM ON New Year's Eve, Granny Yo is already fast asleep in her floral armchair, snoring her face off, and has been for at least an hour. I debate for a while over waking her but ultimately decide it's safer to leave her to sleep. She's wicked fierce when she's tired.
I keep the TV on low volume and work on my knitting. It's quiet, but instead of being lonely, I feel kind of peaceful.
An unexpected noise at the front door sends my heart into overdrive, but it's only Silver letting himself in.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, placing a hand over my racing heart. He shouldn't be home for hours.
Tonight he looks seriously amazing in black dress pants and the navy blue shirt I made him buy before we knew he was my teacher. It fits him like a glove around his strong arms and flat chest. Utter perfection. At some point he tried to comb his hair back but the unruly curls have already started to pop back out. It's seriously cute. And sexy. And I'm staring.
He flops down next to me on the sofa and sighs, picking up my knitting—a misshapen looking scarf I'm planning on forcing Rafe to wear—with a smile. “Nice.”
“Shut up.” I pull it back to my chest defensively. I never said I was any good at knitting. “For reals, why are you here? What happened to your party?”
With a shrug, he turns to face the TV. “You were right, it was lame. I decided I'd rather bring the New Year in here.” I know him well enough by now to tell when he's lying. When I came by for dinner last night he talked my ear off about the party for two hours straight. TWO HOURS STRAIGHT! He must have left the party because he wanted to be here...with me.
“Hey,” he says softly after we watch TV in silence for a few minutes. “I don't think Grams is waking up any time soon, and you know she'll kill us if
we wake her just for the New Year. She'd tell us that she's already lived through seventy six of them, she doesn't need to lose sleep over another.” We both smile affectionately over her as she snuffles like a little bear. “You wanna go out back and watch the neighbour's fireworks? They usually put on a pretty good show.”
I don't even care that it's freezing outside or that the ground it still covered in snow. “Sure.”
We wrap up warm. I steal Silver's grey beanie hat and he grins cheekily, tugging it down over my ears. “You look cute.”
Swoon.
That leaves him with my my lumpy knitted bobble hat, which sends us both into fits of quiet giggles.
He lays a thick blanket down on the grass outside—managing to score a patch with very little snow, though we'll probably still end up damp—and we lay down next to each other, side by side, waiting. One or two over eager partiers somewhere in the neighbourhood are starting early and letting off a couple of small fireworks before midnight, but the sky is mostly clear for now.
A few lazy snowflakes drift down, settling on our clothes and melting when they touch our skin, but not enough to make me want to head back inside. But then, there could be a raging blizzard out here and I still wouldn't want to move from this spot, right here next to Silver.
We talk, mostly about random things that mean nothing at all, until we hear the sounds of Silver's neighbours trudging outside. They must be having a party; there are a lot of excited voices and the slow and steady thrum of low music. I'm thankful for the tall, wooden fence separating them and us.
In loud, cheerful voices, they begin the sixty second countdown to midnight.
Almost exactly at the same time, Silver and I roll on our sides to face one another. Blood rushes through my veins and my skin tingles. Something is different tonight. The look in his eyes is different, is...more. He lifts a shaking hand to touch my cheek. “God, Blair...I want to kiss you so bad.” His voice is hoarse. “I always want to kiss you so bad. Why can't I stop feeling this way?”