by JP Summers
Just when my eyelids grew heavy and I found myself ready to doze off, a warm pair of arms encased my body. Between the opening and ending credits, Carson and I ended up laying on the sofa. I kept my back against his chest, feeling the frantic beats from his heart.
All the other times we’ve ended up on the sofa, Carson’s body never felt this tense around mine. Something was going on in that mind of his. Maybe he was actually upset with me for elbowing him and played it off like it was nothing.
Before I had the chance to ask if anything was bothering him, he pressed his lips tenderly against the edge of my lobe and whispered, “Can I ask you something?” I nodded my head in approval, and a timid voice continued, “Did it really bother you when I was trying to distract you during dinner?”
“Kind of,” I mumbled while repositioning myself to avoid my arm falling asleep. “Why are you asking me this now?”
I felt the warm breath near my ear as Carson I confessed, “I’ve been thinking about how much our friendship means to me.”
“And?” I prodded.
“I strongly feel if two people are meant to be together, everything else will just fall into place.”
“I agree. Especially if the chemistry is all right… like the way my mind goes into an oblivion whenever we kiss.”
“Tia, don’t get me wrong—us kissing, touching, doing all those things I wouldn’t normally do with just any girl is great, but we should really stop before we take things any further.”
“I’m sorry. You lost me for a minute. What do you mean before things go any further?”
“Whatever THIS is, what’s going on besides our friendship is just... What I mean is, we are…
“Just messing around,” I finished for him. “I get it. You’re absolutely right. I blame myself for looking so hot that you just couldn’t keep your hands off me. Well, don’t worry. You won’t catch me dressing up like that any time soon, so you shouldn’t have a problem containing yourself around me.”
I quickly pushed away the idea of turning our friendship into something more. The combination of Carson saying it was just us “messing around” along with my fear of losing my best friend made me keep silent about my real feelings for him.
Carson’s recent indecision and mixed messages were giving me whiplash. To think, I thought girls were the only ones who had trouble with making up their minds about things.
I bit my lip to distract myself from crying, but it didn’t help much. My eyes watered while my body quivered. I felt an even tighter grip around my body when I softly sniffled a few times in order to keep the tears away.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone on the couch. I stretched myself out of the sofa while hearing a clinking sound coming from the kitchen. I was surprised to hear noise and assumed it was my mom, home early from work.
Suddenly the sound of the smoke detector permeated the air, followed by a gray cloud of smoke. I ran toward the kitchen to catch Carson fanning a pan which appeared to be on fire. I quickly grabbed the sprayer from the sink while turning on the water to help put out the fire. The grease splattering everywhere only made the fire worse as I panicked and looked for more things to throw on it while Carson ran to the doors to let the smoke out.
It was only a few minutes before every smoke detector in the house went off as we almost had the flames under control. The sounds of sirens nearing us made both our eyes open wide as the neighbors ran to the patio door. Screaming, they called for help.
A fireman walked inside the house to see a kitchen filled with all kinds of liquids covering the walls and the fire still going. He quickly put out the fire, then chuckled a little while asking if everyone was okay. My mom entered the house only to scream out how her kitchen looked like a natural disaster had hit it. Carson repeatedly apologized. All he wanted to do was make the three of us breakfast.
Mom thought it was a very sweet gesture. She then warned Carson he was no longer allowed to use anything that could cause fires in her house. I marveled about the fact that my best friend wanted to make us something to eat and hugged him for his thoughtful gesture.
My mom decided to take us out for breakfast since her kitchen would be out of commission for a while. We laughed about Carson not having a future as a firefighter since he couldn’t even put out a simple grease fire. He wanted to pay for all the damages, but it wasn’t necessary. Lucky for him, my mom’s boyfriend worked in home construction and would take care of fixing everything.
Still feeling guilty for all the damage he caused, Carson took the bill for our food and paid for it. At least it helped him feel better. Of course, I planned on rubbing this incident in his face every chance that I got.
*****
I decided to make it known I was wide awake. I sat up and noticed Carson walking out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of orange juice. He placed them next to the fireplace where two plates with breakfast awaited us. I need to play it cool and collective. This wasn't the time to jump up and down at how he thought about me enough to make sure I ate. The last thing I want to do is derail his effort and cause more awkwardness between us.
A simple “thank you” escaped my lips as Carson sat down on his cushion to dig into his food. With his mouth full of eggs, he muttered, “I had to cook you something because you’re practically skin and bones. I felt like I was holding that skeleton from Mr. Garza’s biology class last night.”
At least his sense of humor remained intact. I was worried about what personality I’d be dealing with today. I kind of felt insulted by his words yet surprised he had actually noticed how I felt in his arms.
What else did he notice about me last night? Do I still smell the same to him? Was I as comforting to him as he was to me? Did he think about the other times he held me all through the night?
Before I had a chance to comment, a freezing gust of wind whipped through the living room. Carson said, “More windows busted out of the other rooms. I’m going to have to find some way to keep the fire going since we’re running low on firewood.”
A little worried, I asked, “Do you think the storm is over?”
Carson looked at me blankly and said, “I hope so.”
I took a drink of my orange juice, then a bite of my bacon and remarked, “I’m glad to see you learned how to make bacon without burning it.”
Carson almost choked at my quirky comment. He cleared his throat while shaking his head with a slight smirk on face his since he knew exactly what I was referring to. He was the one who said we’d never forget that incident.
“That bacon had turned to black dust by the time the fireman got there,” he chuckled quietly.
“I never knew bacon could burn so badly,” I cautiously stated, wondering if he would welcome the conversation building between us. Silence filled the air.
A crooked grin appeared on Carson’s lips, and I wondered what he was thinking.
It was nice to have Carson speak to me again. I wanted to believe things would get better from here on out. Of course, my gut instincts are saying things wouldn’t.
Suddenly he glared crossly at me. “Why did you have to break your promise?”
“Excuse me? I never broke any promise that shouldn’t have been kept,” I heatedly replied.
“Save it! You know damn well you did!”
“I’m sorry, maybe you should quit pointing the finger at me. It wasn’t only my fault that we ended up this way.”
“If you would have kept my secret, I’m certain our lives would have gone on just fine. Not only did you ruin everything, you managed to take me down along with your own pathetic life.”
“You know what Carson? Why don’t you take a long, hard look at how all of this got started?”
“I don’t need a reminder of why I’m still pissed off at you. You broke a promise that meant everything to me and pretended it didn’t even matter.”
“You’re wrong! It did matter and you’re so fucking blind to see how badly I got hurt too. Quit acting like you’re
the only victim here.”
Carson sat his plate down and walked away. SHIT! The old Carson would never walk away from food, which meant he was pretty torn up.
In the old days, I’d say, “I’ll give Carson a chance to cool down,” but considering our current frozen surroundings—both outside and in—I wasn’t sure if it was even possible. I wish I could see into his heart to see if there really was room for forgiveness.
The kind man appeared before me for a few seconds only to be quickly replaced by the enraged man who just walked off. How much longer am I going to have to deal with his mood swings? When will we get out of here?
I’m about to take my chances by venturing into the harsh, snow-covered mountains just to seek shelter elsewhere. Besides, the wilderness couldn't possibly do any more harm than Carson already had. Being stuck here made me relive every moment of my past with Carson.
Normally, I wouldn’t have eaten my food from being upset, but I knew that I needed to stay nourished in order to keep my body temperature up. Each piece of food I ate pained me as I forced it down my throat while trying to forget how furious Carson sounded before storming out of the room.
How could he expect me to take all the fault for breaking a promise I made such a long time ago?
I wiped away my unexpected tears as I drank the last drop of orange juice. I couldn’t imagine the storms that raged getting any worse, but then again I never realized trees could do such severe damage. The fire looked dreary as I tossed in more firewood to keep it going.
If Carson was going to act immature by running away, then I’d let him.
It’s just as much as my responsibility to keep us from freezing to death and I refused to think my last days on earth would be spent with an asshole like Carson.
I finally got the fire hot enough to have to move myself back a little way, then Carson decided to grace me with his presence. He brought more clothes out and tossed them by my feet. He walked back over to the corner recliner, refusing to be within a few inches of me. As he sat down across the room, I reached for the clothes to hear him bellow, “Now you have enough clothes to keep yourself warm, because I’m not spending another night holding you.”
His words cut like a knife. His tone ripped at my soul like a vulture with its prey. I’ve never felt more loathed by anyone.
I began to fear that if the storm didn’t kill us, then our rage toward one another would.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carson is just like the weather.
So goddamn unpredictable.
He just had to put me under the microscope by picking on the things I had done or said our sophomore year. I can’t continue to have him be nice for two seconds and then suddenly snap, becoming agitated with me. He built the wall back up, this time much higher than before.
He wouldn’t even look in my direction. All Carson had done for the past hour was play with a deck of cards had he found while scrounging up the clothes I’m supposed to use in his place for keeping warm.
Carson may not understand just how badly we might end up needing each other.
The sun briefly shone in from where the windows used to be. It reminded me how I barely survived the emotional hell I’ve been forced into for the past twenty-four hours. He managed to make our confined quarters an unbearable place to be. I’d rather experience a root canal without drugs than subject myself to any more of Carson’s hostility.
I ran my hands through my hair, only to be disgusted at its oiliness. I decided to boil some water to bathe myself by using the sink in the bathroom connected to the room I was supposed to sleep in. Once I had gotten the water hot enough over the fireplace, I carried it to my bathroom and dumped it into the seashell-shaped basin then went to find my toiletry bag along with a fresh bra and panties.
I went back into the bathroom, closing the door behind me, then started to undress in front of the steam-covered mirror. The combination of the cold air intertwining with the hot water created a sauna warm enough for me to bathe. Once I wasn’t in any danger of scalding my skin, I used a washcloth to wash every part of my body.
As the water dripped off me, I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and thoroughly dried myself until reaching my right leg. The faint purplish scar—one I wished would have vanished by now—had become my everyday reminder of how the hopes and dreams of a once charismatic teenager never happened.
This disfiguration represented the worst summer of my life. The anger in my veins boiled. I hated what this permanent mark represented.
I wrapped the towel around my body while looking into the mirror. I always see the upset teenager staring back at me. She once had a bright future ahead of her, but it had all been ripped away.
*****
Just days into the summer before my junior year, I found myself staring at a forest of “Get well soon” and “Hope you have a quick recovery” cards around my room. The balloons that filled my room with their smiley faces made me want to get a knife and pop them all. I was never going to play soccer again and I knew it, despite everyone telling me I’d be able to.
When I slid into the goalpost, making the winning play of the last game of the season, I shattered my kneecap and broke my leg. My knee was damaged beyond repair. All of my teammates came to the hospital to see me after the game. They brought the game ball to me, which only hurt me more.
The good news was, I would be rid of my cast by the first day of school. But that hardly seemed like good news.
All of my friends came by to visit me, making me feel like their pity project. They stayed for a few hours and tried not to bring up their plans for the evening, which always involved someone having a party. I was missing out on everything fun and hated the restrictions the doctor had given me. Even if I wanted to go out, it wasn’t possible because I had to keep my knee elevated at all times.
I’d never felt more disappointed in myself. I was so caught up in winning that my safety didn’t matter. It was all about sacrificing myself or allowing the other team to win. I chose going for the win.
The doctor told me I had about eight to twelve weeks just to heal, then a few months of physical therapy. His prognosis felt more and more like a prison sentence. I wanted to be out with my friends. Instead, I was stuck in bed and dying of total boredom.
I was so happy to see Julisa stop by for a visit and to bring a pint of my favorite ice cream with her. While I ate my ice cream, Julisa shook her head and blurted out, “When will my brother quit allowing Erin to use him? Can you believe he drove 70 miles just a few days ago to be by her side because another boyfriend bolted?”
“I had no idea Carson went to visit Erin.”
“She called him crying about the latest boyfriend dumping her for some other chick, and she needed comforting. He needs to stop feeling like he owes Erin anything. Just because she once saved his life, he feels obligated to be at her beck and call.”
“What do you mean, Erin saved his life?”
“About four years ago, Erin saved Carson from drowning by pulling him out from the kayak he was using at the camp all the middle school kids attended. Somehow the rope tangled itself around his foot when it flipped over. Erin was the first one to see what happened and went over to help. She had to keep doing CPR until the camp counselor got there with the paramedic. I figured my brother would have told you this by now.”
“Nope!”
Julisa frowned. “I know he doesn’t like to talk about it. We all try not to bring it up, but you’re his best friend. Don’t you two tell each other everything?”
“Well, I thought we did. I guess he only tells me the things that are of high importance and doesn’t consider what he went through to be such a big deal,” I replied, outraged that I was learning about my best friend’s past from someone other than him.
I was so upset at Carson for not telling me about his recent visit with Erin. Most of all, I was pissed that he had kept how he almost died from me. I wanted so badly to yell at Carson right now for hiding more shit from me. Y
et, another part wanted to hug him tight because he was alive and breathing. For once, Erin didn’t seem as bad as I’d thought. She was the reason I got to meet my best friend in the first place.
Julisa had to leave for work, but she promised to visit me the next day. She hugged me one last time before grabbing her purse. Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, Julisa commented, “I hate that my brother still feels obligated to Erin after all this time. Don’t get me wrong, we are all grateful that Carson is alive because of Erin, but he needs to open his eyes and see she’s been using it to her advantage.”
After she left me all alone, I got a text from Carson apologizing for having to work late every night this week. He wouldn’t be able to visit until this weekend, which really bummed me out. When we did get to spend time together, it was only for an hour or two.
I shouldn’t get too upset with him, though. He was trying to save up for a truck and wanted to buy it before school started. I texted Carson back with a sad face followed by a happy face, saying how I was thinking of him. He was the only person who could visit and bring me out of my abrasive mood swings.
My mom showed up with more movies for me to watch and asked if I felt up to company. I told her to send in whoever wanted to see me. She left my room, and a minute later there was a knock at my door. A familiar face entered, surprising the hell out of me.
I was past the point of caring enough to throw Evan out. At least he had shown up bearing some kind of gift in his hand. He slowly approached me with a remorseful look on his face. I pulled myself upright, trying to adjust the pillows. Evan sat next to me on the bed and inquired, “Is it okay that I’m here?”
It took me a few seconds before I responded, “Sure.”
He looked at my cast, then back at me. “Are you going to be able to play soccer again?”
The tears kept themselves at bay. I hated being reminded about my medical condition. The words from the orthopedic specialist echoed in my mind while I desperately tried ignoring them. “No. There’s too much damage and scar tissue from prior injuries. I’m lucky a knee replacement wasn’t necessary.”