Even on the Darkest Night

by Allie Martin

  Grasp is another good word. The way it starts solid, but by the time you get your mouth around the letters they’re already falling apart. It’s already slipping from your tongue.

  As she disappears into a sea of dancing people, I somehow feel like tonight's word will be grasp. Evan’s word. Like she’ll be solid at the beginning, but by the morning she’ll be a whisper on the wind, just out of my reach.

  Friday, April 19 • 8:35 PM

  Evan

  His eyes are gone again, distant, but the tingle of his skin on mine lingers as I say the word touch over and over in my head. Jordan confuses me, and I think about only him as I slowly sway to the music of my favorite band. I shouldn’t be thinking about him, or his words, or his eyes, or my reaction to him. Jordan’s not like anyone I’ve ever met in my life. All the guys in my class are idiots who only think about sex or sports. Or sex after sports. The unoriginal comments that bounce off the lockers at my school on a daily basis are exhausting and often horrifying. But Jordan’s different. I don’t even know how old he is (which I didn’t think about until right now, and holy crap I kissed him without knowing how old he is...).

  Nat uses her hold on my wrist to force me to semi-dance, always careful to not push me too hard. She moves to lift my hands and I force them from her grip, placing my palm on my chest over the ICD. Her expression shifts like she forgot but doesn’t stop moving. Nat has enough confidence to dance wildly around my almost still body and it fills me to overflowing with gratitude and appreciation. I’m always reminded that she is the best thing that ever happened to me, even though all she wants to do right now is talk about Jordan.

  “Why are you not making out with him in a corner? He’s like that star thing you always talk about that only happens once every bazillion years,” she yells over the music.

  “Halley’s Comet, Nat. Every seventy-five years. You should know that. We learned it in, like, fifth grade.”

  “Whatever.” She waves her hand. "We leave tomorrow, EJ.” Nat is still yelling as the temperature rises in the air around me. Sweat touches my forehead, even though I’m barely swaying. Jordan’s watching me, but I resist the urge to reciprocate. It’s obvious that something about me confuses him, too.

  I toss Nat’s thought around in my own mind for an entire song before I agree with her. I need a break from the heat so I lean against a pillar and take slow breaths while the band finishes their first set.

  “It’s okay to feel everything because you don’t have to commit, you don’t have to talk to him ever again. You can have your fairytale without the happily ever after.” Nat picks up our conversation, linking her arm through mine as the band leaves the stage.

  “That’s crazy, isn’t it?” I ask, and Nat shrugs. “All girls want a happily ever after, don’t they? Does it make me weird that I don’t? That I don’t want to go past losing my slipper?”

  Nat’s expression flickers from sadness to her normal faux-serious face. “Your happily ever after won’t include a boy, EJ. The thing you want most in the world isn’t love. Most people don’t understand that, even me sometimes.”

  I place my hand on my collarbone and shift the stabbing guilt that comes with my deepest desire. My knight in shining armor isn’t a guy. No guy can save me. I’m not going to need a prince. I’m going to need a donor.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  Nat pumps her fist in the air. “I am on fire. So, you should listen to everything I say tonight. First, I want you to snag that boy and have an epic night of epicness...”

  I bump her hip with mine. “I don’t think you can force epic, Nat. Plus I’m not going to ditch you. You are my One True Pairing.”

  “Cosmic soulmates, you and I. But I’m willing to loan you out for a night.” Nat grins and I struggle to build my argument.

  “We are here for the band. If I spend all night with that guy, then how will we ever figure out how to meet them?”

  Nat drags me past the table where Jordan and his friend, Rick, are still sitting and toward the bathroom. She shoves me through a stall door and crams in after me.

  “Are you going to tell him?” Nat’s eyes burn into me, but she doesn’t need to explain herself. My stomach rolls over, and I tap my fingers over the cut under my collarbone.

  “No. I don’t want to be the that girl tonight. I want to have fun. Like you said before, this is my chance to be regular.” I don’t want him to pity-like me. I don’t want to be the sick girl who kissed him, and he doesn’t know how to let me down. I think what I hate most about being me is that no one will say no to me. No one challenges me, except Nat. She was weird in the beginning, but she came around fast. She was with me the first time I passed out. She was with me when my heart failed, and she hasn’t left me since.

  “And I’m not ditching you. I won’t.”

  Nat shrugs again and waves her phone. “Aaron hates that I’m out at a concert without him, so he’s being super clingy and texting me like crazy. Plus that other guy, Rick, or whatever, is nice. We’ll have fun, but if you’re alone with him and I'm not nearby, you have to tell him okay? Just in case.” Her voice trails off and I nod, but her eyes flicker to the side so fast I almost miss it.

  “Promise me, Evan.” Her sternness shuts down any and all need I have to reply sarcastically.

  “I promise.”

  Nat stands still for a moment, her features growing brighter.

  “What?” I sneak past her.

  “I’m enjoying this sappy grin on your face. I doubt I’ll ever see it again.”

  “He’s super cute.” My grin breaks out so wide I can barely speak. “And a good kisser.”

  “I bet.” She opens the door. I only have about a second to enjoy the fact that I’m interested in a guy who didn’t run when I ambush-kissed him.

  The girl who was yelling at Jordan is standing at the mirror, dabbing gloss on her lips and scowling at me. I shift quickly, cast my eyes to the floor, and book it out of the bathroom. Well, that was a short-lived fairytale.

  8:45 PM

  On shaking legs, I stop at the table only long enough to grab my water bottle before I move for the door, and Nat calls after me.

  “I need air.” I pass the bouncer and get my stamp to go hang out with the smokers.

  I wrap my hoodie tight when I hit the cooling air, pausing to allow my eyes to adjust to the dark. There’s a cloud of smoke hanging around the heads of a group of smokers, and I move to the other side of the building to avoid them. I lean against the cold brick and take a long deep breath, my hand covers the ICD. I trace my fingers down the front of my shirt, imagining what the wires look like snaking through my veins into my heart as if I were tracing out a constellation.

  Thinking about electrical wires in my blood vessels grosses me out, so I open my eyes. Jordan stands in front of me, and I gasp. His hands are in his pockets, his messy curls catching the street light and giving him a frazzled halo around his beanie. Before he has a chance to say anything, I open my mouth and words fall out.

  “Your ex-girlfriend wants to crush me.” It’s a rush of jumbled words and his face scrunches even further.

  “What? Annie?” He studies me for a few moments before smirking. “You’re serious?”

  “I was talking about you in the bathroom.” I pause and frown (how stupid does that sound? But he’s still smiling, so I guess it’s okay). “Anyway, she heard me say that I wanted to hook up with you tonight. Oh my God, that sounds so dumb. I feel so ridiculous saying it but better from me than her. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be talking with you. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t even live here. I live, like, a thousand miles away, and I rarely come here. I fly out at noon tomorrow, and I have no idea when I’ll be back here, if I’m ever back...” I don't mention there’s a good chance I will be back here. Hopefully for a new heart.

  Jordan steps into me, putting both his thumbs over my lips and shushing me, my cheeks cupped in his warm hands. “Evan, you’re making me dizzy. Slow
down.”

  “Sorry,” I say and laugh the most awkward sound I’ve ever made. (Who am I?)

  “Listen, Evan. I’m sure you’re a great girl...” Jordan starts, and my guts mash up in my stomach. My heart struggles to pump the adrenaline-laced blood through my body. My head feels light, my limbs tingle. Little popping stars behind my eyes make me bend at the waist. I raise my hand, as if space will help me chew up this embarrassment and swallow the rejection. I said I wanted to be treated like a normal girl. Rejected like a normal girl. Well, here it is.

  “No. Jesus. Don’t say that.” I stop him from talking because I need to get back inside. I need to get back to Nat in case I faint. “I’m an idiot. Don’t worry about it. Really.”

  I guess I was right about the bet; he was looking for an easy way out of it.

  I want to walk away, but my weak heart can’t keep up and my knees wobble. New plan. I sink on weak knees to get closer to the ground.

  My vision is almost gone when I feel an arm around me, guiding me into the darkness.

  8:50 PM

  When I open my eyes again there are people staring at me, so I obviously made it to the ground (either that or the world fell over). My head is resting on something softer than cement: Jordan’s leg. I sit up in a jolt of panic, but Jordan holds onto my shoulders to stop me. Nat’s big curls and concerned face appear in my line of vision. Pain rips through my shoulder, but I suck it up.

  “Way to go, EJ. A good way to get picked up by guys is to make them actually have to pick you up.” She grabs my hands and helps me stand slowly. The memories all flood me, and I groan. Hopefully they think it’s from pain or something. Not utter humiliation.

  I teeter backward. Jordan’s hands are on my hips. “You okay? You scared the shit outta me.” He lets me lean back against him, and I feel his fast heavy breaths. Nat runs inside to grab me more water, as I spilled mine everywhere when I went out.

  “Yeah, I’m great. I pass out every time I get rejected. No big deal.”

  He makes an amused huff as I take a couple slow breaths. “I didn’t reject you.”

  I turn around, but he doesn’t take his hands off my waist. “Any sentence that starts with ‘You seem like a great girl’, always spirals downward. And fast.”

  His expression goes from distant to flat to amused. “What I was going to say is: You seem like a great girl, but Annie and I are a hot complicated mess, and you deserve someone who can give you his full attention. Someone who wouldn’t turn you into a bet. I would, however, like to continue hanging out with you.”

  I huff out a sigh. “See, totally rejected. The let’s-be-friends card is the worst of them all. Saying you didn’t like me at all would be better than saying I like you, but not enough to forget about her.”

  Plus, I’ve been told that before. I stood on the porch of our large empty house as Mom packed her car to leave us. She wouldn’t look at me as she passed me again and again, carrying boxes of our memories and stacking them to take to her new life with Robbie. She only glanced at me once that day, and I saw it as clear as I can see the North Star.

  I love you, Evan, but not enough to stay.

  Nat comes back outside, and I reach for my friend as she hands me a new bottle of water.

  “Did you know water costs four dollars?” Nat guides me inside, oblivious to the gaping expression on Jordan’s face as we disappear around the corner. I shove down any of the feelings being rejected brings up. This is my last night in the city, my first time seeing my favorite band live, and I’m not going to let a guy ruin that.

  Friday, April 19 • 9:10 PM

  Jordan

  Never has a girl made me feel so many things all at once, spilling from my chest and coating my world in all the words I want to say. I grip the pen around my neck, wanting to fold myself in until I’m a black and oozing puddle of ink. I’m a complete idiot for saying what I did. Annie dumped me. She cheated on me. Not once. Multiple times.

  Round and round Annie goes, but she always ends up back at me. I always stand still, waiting to catch her, waiting to get her back, but this time someone else passed by my door. She paused on the threshold, and I told her to go away because I am expecting someone else.

  “You’re such an asshole,” I mutter to myself as I turn the corner and almost bump noses with Annie. She’s without Boy-Toy, and her eyes are narrowed at me. Evan was right—her words were perfect. I like her. I’m drawn to her. But not enough to forget about Annie.

  “Who’s the girl, Jordie?” she asks in a tone that would be suitable if she wasn’t already here with someone whose name I know but refuse to use. Before I open my mouth, my body does the first smart thing it’s done all day. I step to the side, around Annie, and walk away.

  “She’s using you!” Annie yells after me.

  The music hits me hard as I enter the club and almost all the tables are empty. Bodies pack the dance floor while Lemming Garden plays their signature radio song. I lean against the wall next to the spot I wrote the note to Annie. I’m not your problem anymore... I so desperately want to absorb that phrase into the blackness of my soul and use it as a light to guide me out of this mess.

  A body leans against the wall next to me, and her sugary smell wraps me up. My head lolls to the side. I glance at Evan, who studies the band with a fascination I envy. She feels the song about lost love somewhere deep inside her, and I am overcome with needing a glimpse behind the bars in her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to make you feel rejected, Evan.” I lean down to her ear, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the band. “I think you’re pretty amazing, but I still love—”

  “Shhh,” she says, her eyes flicking from me to the band. “Love’s a terrible word. You should know that. It’s the emptiest word in existence. Don’t say it.”

  My jaw drops, and I say the word in my head. I sound out the letters, I construct the word, attempting to figure out what she means while she sways to the song. She holds the water bottle in one hand while the one closest to me hangs at her side, her fingers twitching to the beat of the song. I can’t stop my own hand from reaching for her. I run my index finger from her wrist to the tip of her pinky, and she turns to me. Her gaze dissolves the room around us.

  “You’re really throwing out mixed signals, you know that? Are we friends now, or am I just a bet?” She tries to joke, but I hear the undercurrent of seriousness. Make up your mind, Jordan, her eyes say. I don’t believe the word love is empty, but I can tell she definitely does.

  “Evan you were never just a bet. I’m sorry if I made you think that.” I scratch my neck. That really makes me sound like a jerk. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her. But not telling her would have made me feel like a jerk. I’m not sure which is worse.

  She crosses her arms and keeps watching the band. I keep watching her, keep wanting to figure out what she’s about. After a few seconds, she smiles.

  “You are a definitely a poet.” She bumps my arm with her shoulder as the song shifts to a bouncier tune.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You live in parallel universes. You move in and out of yourself, you’re shifting constantly. Sometimes you’re here. Sometimes you’re somewhere I wish I could be, too. Sometimes you’re somewhere I don’t think anyone else is allowed to go...” She leans closer, making everything swirl through me at once. “You’re doing it right now.”

  “Am I?” I lie, but I know what’s she’s talking about. My focus zooms in and out from concept to fine detail in seconds, sometimes simultaneously. Evan puts her fingertips on my chest and spreads her hand out until her palm is flat over my heart.

  “There’s a lot that goes on in here. And while I’d like to be angry with you that you made me into a bet, at least you didn’t lie about it.”

  She pushes me playfully but doesn’t drop her hand from my chest.

  “I am nothing if not honest.”

  She tilts her head to the side; something worrisome bounces across her features, but she holds
my gaze, studying me unlike anyone ever has. Almost like she’s dissecting me.

  “Something about you is familiar to me. That probably sounds crazy.”

  “Other than our names?” I am still not ready to let down the teasing facade, partly because I don’t want her to move her hand, and partly because I’m afraid that when she does, she’ll see what I hide behind it. "I think that's called fate."

  Evan scoffs. "Fate is for suckers."

  "You really believe that, don't you?" I feel the seriousness creeping into the space between us.

  "I do."

  "So what is this, then?" I put my hand over hers and press it harder into my chest.

  “Something about you interests me. Makes me curious. You’ve lost something that you’re trying to get back,” she says, and I suck in all the air I can handle.

  “Yeah, my heart.” I laugh, but Evan’s gaze falls along with her hand. She tightens her grip around her water bottle and steps away. I catch her wrist, and she stops but doesn’t turn to face me as I guide her back to me.

  “Did I hit your sore spot?” I pull her until she’s leaning against the wall again. “Who was he?”

  Her eyes go blank. “No one.”

  “Right.” I’m not sure where this coldness came from, but she shouldn’t be allowed to pry into my life and then give me the silent treatment.

  This time I see it clearly. All those bars on her eyes are not meant to keep things inside but to keep other people out.

  “I’ve never been in love,” she says, gazing at the band.

  “That’s too bad,” I reply.

  "What's that mean?"

  I shrug. The music of Lemming Garden pounds through me, and through her silence I hear the drawn out lyrics of the male lead singer, Steve. The words are sucked through my chest and into her eyes.

  Let's pretend for the night,

  that it’s perfect and true.

  We know it’ll end,

  Baby, just for tonight