I'm Not Her

by Janet Gurtler

  “You look pretty,” I say.

  “Whatever, Tess.” She makes a face. “Can you just get him?”

  I go back down the hallway through the kitchen, watching Devon unseen for a moment. He’s laughing at something on TV. I move and he hears me and looks up.

  I walk closer, into the living room. “She’ll see you. You say something to hurt her feelings and I’ll kick your ass.”

  His smile disappears as his expression changes to a more serious one and he nods at me as if he believes me. As if I really will kick his ass. He’s smart. I probably would.

  He stands slowly and I flick my head, indicating for him to follow me, and we walk toward Kristina’s room.

  When we reach it, I knock and then open the door, holding it while he goes inside. When it closes behind him, I stomp my feet up and down on the ground, pretending to walk away from the door, but stand still, listening.

  “Hey, Tee,” he says softly.

  Her answer is muted.

  “You look good,” he says.

  I hear her bitter laugh.

  “No, I mean it. You’ll always look good to me. That doesn’t change.”

  I want to hug him for saying that. It sounds sincere. Nice.

  “So why can’t you look me in the eye?” Kristina’s voice is louder and clear.

  Devon mumbles something. If he expected Kristina to make it easy for him, he’s getting a reality check.

  “How are you feeling?” he says.

  She laughs again and I miss her reply.

  “I missed you,” he says softly. “I didn’t talk to you after…well…since that night at my house. When you missed school, I was worried it had something to do with me. Stupid, huh?”

  “Yes,” she says. “Stupid.”

  He doesn’t answer.

  “I had other things to worry about. You know like getting chemo, losing my hair, and getting my leg chopped off.”

  I barely recognize Kristina’s voice.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “That sounded selfish and stupid. Um, so, are you okay?” He sounds unsure and hurt.

  “What do you think?” She clears her voice and laughs harshly. “If you’re worried that I expect something from you because we had sex, don’t worry. The only reason I did it was because I found out I had cancer and wanted to make sure I didn’t die a virgin.”

  I wince a little on his behalf.

  “That’s all it was?” Devon sounds upset.

  “Weren’t you even a little suspicious about why I came running back to you? I mean, you didn’t even ask me if something was wrong. You just assumed that I couldn’t resist you.”

  He mumbles something I don’t catch, then his voice gets louder. “I’m sorry, Kristina. I didn’t know. I was totally into you, I mean, I am, and I assumed we were getting back together. That you wanted to.”

  “It’s okay, Devon. You don’t have to pretend you’re into me. We broke up because I wouldn’t hook up and just because we did doesn’t mean we got back together. You didn’t even know me. Or try to. Me. Not the perfect Kristina everyone wanted me to be. And trust me, I’m even less perfect than I was before.”

  “You’re still you,” Devon says softly. “And I still care about you.”

  “Well, don’t, okay. I mean not more than friends. I never thought we were getting back together. I’m sorry the way I used you. That sucked. But it doesn’t mean you have to pretend to want to be my boyfriend.”

  Devon doesn’t say anything.

  Kristina laughs again, but it has some spirit in it; it isn’t as bitter. “Don’t look so guilty, okay? We broke up before all this. So it’s not like you’re some jerk dumping me after I got my leg cut off. What happened was a mistake. Nobody has to know. And, well, I’m kind of interested in someone else now.”

  “You are?” Devon sounds as surprised as I feel.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  She is? Jeremy?

  “Um, okay.” Devon sounds numb. “So, uh, can we still be friends? I care about you, you know.”

  That’s my cue to sneak down the hallway and give them privacy. I have no idea whether he’s okay being let off the hook or if he’s genuinely hurt and is covering up. Either way, I respect that he came to see her, to deal and make sure she’s okay. I find a vase in the kitchen cupboard, fill it with water, and stick in the flower. I put the vase on the counter and return to the living room.

  After he leaves, I can hear Kristina’s sobs from where I sit. It’s loud and heartbreaking. I want to go to her but don’t know what to say, so I sit with the walls between us, chewing on my thumbnail, wishing I could do something to make things better.

  When six thirty comes and goes and Jeremy still hasn’t rung on the doorbell, I hear Kristina shuffling about in the room. She’s making a lot of noise and I guess it means she’s got her crutches out and is moving around.

  “Tess!” she yells.

  “What?” I call, trying not to sound worried.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She texted to say she went shopping with a friend after her doctor’s appointment.” Her friend the credit card.

  Kristina doesn’t bother to ask about Dad. Both of us know he won’t be home from work for hours. We don’t talk about how much we miss him. Or I do. I wonder if she does too.

  “Shoot.” Her door opens and she limps through the hallway and kitchen toward the living room. Her gait looks better than it did last time I saw her walking with the crutches.

  I pick up the remote and turn the TV off. “You want some food?” I ask. “Mom left some chicken casserole thingy to heat in the microwave.”

  “No.” She hobbles into the living room. “Jeremy is never late. And he hasn’t called or texted me.”

  “He probably just had something to do,” I say. I don’t tell her but I’ve been wondering where he is too. He never leaves Kristina waiting.

  She hops over and sets herself down on the couch beside me. She’s wearing a pair of shorts. I try not to stare at the stump that’s right beside my leg. It makes my stomach weak.

  She grabs the remote from my hand and flicks the TV back on. “You still watch the Discovery Channel?” she asks.

  I make a face at her but I’m not insulted. It’s kind of nice to have her make fun of me. Like she used to. I want to go and get ready for the party, which is an occasion in itself, but don’t want to leave her, and kind of dread telling her about being invited to a party with her friends. As if I’m trying to take her place. If stupid Jeremy were on time, I wouldn’t have to even explain, because she wouldn’t care where I was going.

  “I wish Jeremy would get here already,” she says.

  I silently agree.

  Another half hour goes by and we quietly stare at the dude on Man vs. Wild being dropped in some swamp, supposedly all alone with his cameraman. We watch as he wrestles an alligator but I keep an eye on the clock, expecting Jeremy to knock on the door. When it’s ten past seven, my annoyance turns to worry. He just doesn’t seem like the type to do this.

  The phone rings, and both of us jump. I rush to go answer it, easily beating Kristina before she can even make a move for her crutches.

  “Hello?” I say, waiting for Jeremy’s apologetic voice on the other end, prepared to give him some grief for worrying Kristina.

  “Kristina?” a voice asks. It’s a woman.

  I hear her sob.

  “What?” My heart pounds and I turn so Kristina can’t see my face. “No, uh, this is Tess.” In the background, the Discovery Channel commercial plays.

  “Tess?” The woman cries harder into my ear.

  The commercial is a happy song. Boom de yada, boom de yada.

  “Kristina’s sister,” I tell her and sweat seeps out of my underarms. The crying makes me queasy. “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t want to know.

  “It’s Jeremy,” she sputters. She takes a deep breath. “There’s been an accident, he’s been in an accident.” Her voice builds in hyste
rics and she chokes on her own sobs. “He died. Oh my God! My baby is dead.”

  “What?” I keep my back turned to the couch. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to mumble through my shock.

  She cries harder and starts to ramble. “He dropped me off at home. He said he was on his way to see Kristina. But a few minutes ago, I got a call. There was a car accident. He didn’t make it. Oh God! I thought he was safe at her house. But he died.” She wails again. “Please tell your sister.” She chokes and swallows. “I know they’re close. They were close. Oh God! I can’t talk now. Please tell her I’ll call later.” The phone clicks and the dial tone hums in my ear. In slow motion, I place the phone back on the charger, trying to catch my breath.

  I turn. “No,” Kristina groans. She’s shaking her head back and forth, not looking at me. “No,” she repeats. She puts her hands over her ears, still shaking her head from side to side. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

  “Jeremy…” I say. I flick my hand up and accidently catch the glass vase Kristina’s flowers are in. It clangs to the floor and shatters on the tile.

  “NO!” she screams. She pushes herself up and then abruptly loses her balance and crashes to the floor. I race back into the living room, almost slipping in the spilled water.

  She screams hysterically and I rush to her side. “Are you okay?” I yell. When she doesn’t answer I flop down on the floor beside her and wrap my arms around her body. It shocks me how thin she is. Bones jut out everywhere, poking into my skin, but I hold on tight. After a while, I pull her so she’s sitting up, and she practically crawls right inside my lap. I keep my arms around her and rock.

  “What happened?” she moans.

  “There was a car accident, Krissie. I’m so sorry.”

  She wails harder, sobbing so violently I’m afraid she’s going to break. “He’s dead?”

  I hold her tight and rock her and stroke her hair. “You’re going to be okay,” I whisper over and over. “You’re going to be okay. Jeremy would want you to be strong. For him, Kristina.” I murmur the same words over and over. There’s nothing we can do for Jeremy now.

  Kristina holds on and her body purges itself of tears. I cry with her. For Jeremy. For her cancer. For her lost leg.

  I keep chanting. Over and over.

  ***

  Kristina is curled up in a ball on the couch, finally asleep. I rummaged around in Mom’s medicine cabinet for something to give her and found some sleeping pills. So much for au naturel Mommy.

  Kristina didn’t resist the pill but refused to go to her room, wanting me to sit with her on the couch while she faded in and out, looking close to death herself.

  When she’s sleeping, I go to the kitchen, clean up the mess the broken vase made, then pick up the phone to call Nick. It rings once and goes straight to voice mail.

  “I can’t make the party tonight,” I say in a tight voice. “Don’t come to my house, okay?” I hang up abruptly, wishing I’d said something more.

  I dial Mom’s cell number for the fifth time in the last half hour, but her voice mail is picking up too, and like me, I suspect, she’s forgotten to turn her cell phone on. In desperation, I dial Dad’s number, expecting he’s got his head in the books and his voice mail will pick up, but a laughing female voice answers, taking me by surprise.

  “Hello? Mr. Smith’s phone,” the woman says. Her voice is low and all sexy.

  “Gabbie, that’s not funny, give me the damn phone,” Dad calls in the background.

  I click the phone off and throw it down on the floor, staring at it in horror. Why is a giggling woman answering my Dad’s phone at work?

  Oh God. I don’t have the time, patience, or stomach to even think about it.

  I glance at the couch, but Kristina’s eyes are closed and her breathing is slow and even. I chew my thumbnail, staring into space, wishing for someone to save me.

  There’s a thunk at the front door and then the sound of the key turning in the keyhole. Mom bursts in with a handful of shopping bags. When she looks at my face and Kristina curled up on the couch beside me, she drops all the bags on the floor and rushes forward.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong with Kristina?”

  “While you were out spending Dad’s money, Jeremy died.” My voice is robotic. I want to be mean. I want her to hurt.

  Her face goes completely white. I don’t mention Dad’s lady friend or the visit from Devon. Neither seems important under the circumstances. Mom hurries to the couch and lays her hand on Kristina’s forehead. “What happened?”

  “His mom called. A car accident. On the way here.” Both of us stare at Kristina as her chest moves up and down.

  “I found some sleeping pills in your room,” I tell her. “I gave Kristina one.”

  Mom’s lips tighten but she doesn’t say anything, just nods her head. Sorrow etches into her skin. I look closer and see how much she’s aged in the last few months. Wrinkles around her eyes. I guess trying to keep it all inside doesn’t work either.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” she says, and plunks down across from us in the love seat she handpicked to match her couch.

  “No one is ever here.”

  Mom rests her head in her hands and stares at the carpet.

  I don’t offer her forgiveness. Neither of us speak. An image of Nick sitting beside me on the curb pops into my mind. Suddenly it seems imperative to see him. As if he is the one person in this world who can make me feel better.

  If Jeremy can die, anyone can.

  “I need to go somewhere.”

  Mom looks up as if she forgot me being in the room with her. “What? Where?”

  “I was invited to a party.”

  “A party? Now? No, Tess. Under the circumstances…” Even as she shakes her head, I stand. I need to see him. Have to.

  “I need to see someone. A friend who was supposed to take me. I need to explain why I didn’t come. In person.”

  She stares at me, as if she can’t understand what I’m saying to her.

  “I’ll bike over and be back in an hour. It’s at Gee’s house. It’s not far. Kristina won’t even know I’m gone. It’s important.”

  I can’t explain to her my overwhelming desire to see Nick. I need to talk to him. Teenagers get sick. Teenagers die. There isn’t time to wait.

  She lifts her shoulders up and stares at me like she doesn’t recognize me. Me. Going to a party. To talk to a boy. But it doesn’t matter now. Things have changed around the Smith house. Finally, she nods her head. No questions about who the boy is. Or what I need to talk to him about. “Don’t be long, okay?”

  I dash upstairs and change into the black jeans Mom bought me, staring into the mirror above my dresser. For a second I actually consider putting on some of Kristina’s makeup or something, and then frown at myself. Vanity is wrong. Jeremy is dead.

  I grab a warm hoodie from the floor, pull it on, and hurry downstairs. Mom’s sitting on the couch now at Kristina’s side, holding her limp hand. My heart cracks more and I consider sitting with the two of them to cry and forget the rest of the world, but I force myself outside to deal with my life.

  I hop on my bike and pedal as fast as I can to Gee’s house. Thank God it’s only a few blocks from ours. The air is cold and my thoughts are dark. When I reach her street, it’s easy to see her party is a big one. The street is lined with cars and, as I get closer, I can hear the faint whoops and the thump of loud bass emanating from her house.

  I ride to her driveway and throw my bike down, ignoring a group of kids on the front lawn spraying each other with water guns. In this weather. I hope they all get sick with colds.

  They ignore me as I tread up the sidewalk, open the front door, and step inside Gee’s house. Music blasts me in the front landing and the beat from it vibrates my hair. I smell pot and perfume and see a slight haze of smoke covering the house. With my shoes still on, I sneak past a couple pushed up against the wall making out, and peer inside the living roo
m. The first person I spot is Clark. He’s sitting alone on a couch at the far side of the room. People stand in groups around him, holding beer bottles and coolers, dancing, mingling, and laughing. A group of girls are huddled on the couch across from him gossiping about something or someone. None of them know yet.

  Jeremy is dead.

  Clark looks lonely and I remember sitting on a similar couch at a similar party not so long ago, before we knew about Kristina. When Jeremy was still alive.

  My heart kerplunks and I close my eyes, wishing it would all change back to the way it was. When I open them, Clark is still sitting on the couch. I am still the one who has to go over and tell him about his best friend. Taking deep breaths, staring at him, I try to think of the right words. In one instant, my information will change his whole life.

  A loud giggle pops my consciousness, followed by a drunken whoop from the staircase down the other hallway. I glance over and see Nick stumble as he grabs at Bree. She’s giggling as he paws at the front of her shirt. He touches her boob and then presses his face in the middle of her shirt and makes a loud raspberry sound. She pulls him up, and she’s laughing as they exchange a loud wet kiss, and then he glances over and sees me watching.

  Weariness overcomes me and I turn away and focus on Clark and walk slowly over to him. Nick is just a boy. Another boy needs me right now.

  Clark’s face lights up when he sees me and it’s embarrassing. And sad. Because he is my friend. And because I’m about to tell him horrible, awful news.

  Clark stands and points at the seat beside him. “Hey. Gee said you were going to be here. I’m glad you came.”

  He smiles but it fades when he sees my frown.

  “Gee is my cousin,” he says, misinterpreting my mood.

  Understanding dawns on me, but there are much bigger things to worry about. Bigger things than unrequited love and false kisses.

  “We have to talk,” I tell him, and sit and take his hand and squeeze it hard.

  “What?” he asks.

  He sounds nervous, as if he’s picked up my vibe. As I’m searching for the right way to break the news, there’s a loud bang beside us and then a body crashes against my knees.