by Paloma Meir
I had thought of inviting him a few times before but his shyness with me was interesting to observe. I enjoyed watching it play out, seeing him try to build his courage.
I never thought anything would come from it. There were more beautiful girls than myself all around the school throwing themselves at him. If it was intelligence he was after, there were a few other girls at my level or higher.
Yet there he was in front of my home, his confidence found, wanting to see me on my very worst day.
I texted back telling him to come upstairs, the front door was open. I looked around my room at the mess I lived in, everything spread out, my breakfast and lunch plates on the floor.
I thought of tidying up but it was hopeless like my mood. Better for him to see me as I actually was, end all this before my feelings for him grew real.
“Do you need help cleaning up your room?” He laughed as he bounded into my room glowing with health and sat down beside me on my bed.
I felt my mood perk up but not enough.
“I need chaos to understand chaos.” I said and wanted to slap myself. I willed myself to be lighthearted.
“Are you a butterfly, Celena?” He said, but I had enough of science jokes. My situation in no way resembled the Chaos Theory.
“I didn’t mean that in a scientific way. Is that all you talk about?” He was so silly that I smiled and my mood did lighten.
“No.” He said which lead to a long awkward silence.
“Okay…Why are you here, Serge?” I almost laughed.
“I don’t know.” He stood up as if he were going to leave. That was not something I wanted to happen.
“Stay.” I took his hand and looked up at him.
He sat back down beside me, stared at me for a moment and then put his hand on the back of my head, running his fingers through my short hair and then we were kissing.
I had kissed boys before. I had gone on dates, all the things girls my age did but never before had I felt anything for anyone.
The kiss went on and on with him pulling away looking deeply into my eyes, pecking my lips and then the deep kisses that made me understand the melting feeling people talked about.
So light I felt with him, with his tender hands that he ran over my back, over the sides of my breasts. All my thoughts calm, living in the moments of the sensation of his touch.
The kissing stopped and our breath was heavy as we sat for a moment unmoving, not knowing the next step. He took the lead lifting my t-shirt off me, unlatching my bra. His hands lightly touching me, nobody would ever have such gentle hands as Serge.
His eyes met mine and I nodded instinctively knowing where we were headed although it was all foreign to me.
He took off his clothes. I had never been in proximity to a nude man before and I stared at his erection wanting to touch it but I didn’t, instead slipping off my skirt and underwear.
We were quiet as we lay down together on my bed. I wished I had made earlier in the day. He kissed me again, kissed my body as I lay underneath him.
“I want to be with you, Celena.” He said
“I want that too.”
And it happened and it didn’t hurt. He was so gentle with me, watching my face, protecting me from any pain. I winced with a thrust and he slowed down, kissing me again. And then it was done and I was at peace. My hungry destructive mood from earlier satiated.
“I love you Celena.”
“I like that you say my name all the time.” The C of my name rolled so softly off his tongue, making me feel delicate, loved.
“Celena, Celena, Celena.” He said and kissed the tip of my nose and rolled off of me to lay on his side.
“I have to go home now. I’ll be back later, okay? We can go out somewhere, anything you want.” He stood up to get dressed.
“We can just stay in.” I desperately wanted to try sex again.
“You’ll have to clean the ’chaos’ of your room. I have bread crumbs on my back.” He smiled and kissed me on the lips before leaving.
I private messaged Q as soon as he left.
selenaslinks: I’m in love.
q: Is it love or do you want to possess him?
She had written many posts on sociopaths and love claiming that our form of love was about dominance and thrills. I hadn’t cared before but in that moment it annoyed me. So I wrote back what only a fifteen year old would write.
selenaslinks: Shut up.
I logged off and cleaned my room. I practically scrubbed it.
He came back a few hours later with a bouquet of flowers he had picked from his garden and a very large box of condoms. The condoms annoyed me but he was militant about their use. Looking back, I’m happy he was that way. I could never have handled the responsibility of birth control.
He wasn’t shy with me anymore either. In fact he was a motor mouth.
Chapter Five
The happiness and mental peace lasted a little over three weeks, and to this day I still remember it as the happiest time of my life.
Serge was very social, very academic, and very athletic. The athleticism surprised me the most. I went everywhere with him. He always wanted me by his side.
I watched him at his Lacrosse practice after school. His friend Brendan was a maniac, a real show-off knocking everyone down. I noticed as I slowly learned the rules of the game that Serge was lethal, swinging his stick into his opponents as if he were trying to kill them.
I was shocked that nobody else noticed, that he wasn’t pulled out of the games. He was so well liked by those around him and it probably helped that his other best friend, Danny, was the captain of the team. They would make excuses for him, jokingly tell him to slow down.
Brendan spent a good part of every game sidelined but not Serge.
Then it would be like we were starring in some from movie from the 50s. There was a diner on Sunset not far from where we lived and we would actually go there after the games. Filling up the little restaurant with the players and their girlfriends.
It was surreal to me, the conversations, the general innocence of his group. Nobody sneaking off to smoke pot or take other drugs. I knew they cursed a lot when girls weren’t around but when we were with them kept their mouths clean.
I didn’t understand it at first, which was a relief but eventually it became clear. It was Danny and Serge, they were the leaders of this little group of jocks and that was just the way they were: respectful, thoughtful people.
Brendan was definitely their equal socially but it was clear to everybody that if he hadn’t had Danny and Serge as his best friends he would probably have ended up in Juvenile Hall, no matter how wealthy and well-connected his parents were.
I grew friendly with Cara, Brendan’s girlfriend, predictable as she was; her genuine sweetness was disarming. She spent most of her time with her dance group so it was easy and Serge liked that I was friendly with her. He was very fond of her.
But the best time was when it was just the two of us in my room at home. My mother never came in without warning. So we were left to do whatever we wanted to do. What we wanted to do was have sex and that is what we did constantly. It was better than even my guitar.
But it wasn’t meant to last because I was me and I always would be.
We had been to a party, always so many parties with this group of kids. It was tiring for me, the constant friendliness. My edges were wearing thin. I sensed my thoughts racing but not the negativity that usually accompanied my mania.
The night of the party, I felt raw, all my nerves exposed even with Serge wrapped adoringly around me. He was very affectionate and attentive but even that couldn’t smooth my mood.
We were in the kitchen getting a bottle of water when I saw the elaborately decorated birthday cake for the girl whose party it was. I rolled my eyes and muttered “predictable,” so sick of the veneer of perfection all of these people lived in.
“What, Celena?” Serge asked as he looked away from the pantry where he was getting me
a bottle of water, to see me stick my finger in the center of the cake and swirl the frosted flowers around, destroying the cake.
“Celena, you shouldn’t do that.” He looked down at the cake with shock as if he couldn’t understand that I would purposely do such a thing.
“Were you hungry?” He tilted his head and asked as if he had never seen me before. “Let me try and fix that, there are some cookies in the pantry…if that’s what you wanted…something sweet…” He said questioningly.
He took the knife lying next to the cake and ran it over the top of the ruined cake, trying to fix it.
“What does it matter, Serge?” I snapped at him, “She’ll have something to talk about all week. ’Oh my cake was ruined.’” I mocked the girl’s affected posh-like voice.
“Are you feeling okay?” He put the knife down and placed his hand on my shoulder. I shook it off.
“I’m fine.” I turned and stormed out of the kitchen, out the front door and onto the street determined to walk home.
I heard his footsteps following behind me and ran. He caught up with me quickly.
“Celena…I don’t understand.”
“Just leave me alone…Why are you always trying to control me?”
“What are you talking about?”
He looked so shocked and frightened in the moonlight. I took a deep breath remembering all the calming techniques the doctors had taught me over the years.
“I’m going home. Just let me be.”
“We’re at least three miles from your house and it’s past midnight. I’m not going to let you walk home. Let me go get Adam, okay?” He put his hands on my shoulders and I didn’t shake him off. I wanted to slouch down to the ground and cry, all the beauty of my life was slipping away and there was nothing I could do about it.
“Okay.” I yelled and threw myself down onto the curb and buried my head in my hands. I so much wanted to put an end to this behavior but I had no control and the pain of knowing that was intense.
He ran up the street to get his friend. I promised myself I would be pleasant, that I would keep myself together on the short car ride from where I sat to my home.
It didn’t work out that way. I pouted and made unpleasant noises, flicking Serge away when he tried to hold my hand.
I didn’t thank Adam when he dropped us off in front of my home. In fact, I almost slammed the car door on Serge.
He followed me up the stairs to my room though I whispered loudly several times that I wanted him to go home and I never wanted to see him again.
“Celena,” He said as he shut the door and I sat on my bed, my head in my hands again, “I don’t understand any of this…”
“I have problems,” I lifted my head to look at him, the vulnerability of his eyes and burst into tears.
“We all have problems, Celena.” He sat down next to me on the bed and hugged me, and I felt my insanity melt away.
“I’ve always been like this…You don’t understand.”
“I love you…I want to help you.”
“You make me so happy,” I sniffed and pulled away from him. “I have moods… it’s a disorder.” The beauty of him struck deep in me. I so much wanted to make it work.
“Can we take some time apart? It’s maybe…overwhelming me. I’ve never been this close with anyone before.”
“I don’t want to be without you, Celena.”
“And I don’t want to bring you down with me. You’re perfect…”
“I am pretty special,” He smiled. “We spend all our time together but we don’t really know each other yet. My life isn’t perfect…and maybe we should talk about these things.”
“I’m scared to tell you about myself.”
“Well maybe this will help, Celena,” He said in a mocking serious tone of voice and then relaxed, staring ahead, not looking at me, “Zelda knows all of this…she’s the only one outside of my family…but now I have you.” He turned back to me.
Zelda was his sister Carolina’s best friend. She came up a lot in conversations but he spoke of her as if she were a small child. I had been surprised when I found out that his sister and she were only a year younger than us.
“My mother…she drinks…and I mean starts in the morning and doesn’t stop until she passes out before bedtime. My father… he’s ineffective.” He nodded his head as if he that was that, no further details would be offered because none existed.
“Serge…”
“That girl, Leah? Whose cake you ruined? Her father jumped off the top of his office building downtown last year. He was about to be indicted for something financial…I’m not clear on the details.”
“We can all be broken.” I looked down at the floor, remembering my mother’s words.
“Yes…You’re very smart, Celena. My point is if you’re feeling less than everyone else…well, it’s just not true. I’m sure your moods are…”
“They’re a big problem, Serge.” I laughed. “And you know how to keep a secret, but remember your own words…If you’re feeling less than, it’s not true.”
“As I said, you’re very smart, Celena…”
I looked up and he was smiling at me. I felt light again.
“Do we still need to break-up?” He asked.
“No, but can we take a break for a few days? It’s all been so much.”
“Can I call you while we’re on this ’break?’”
“You can text me.” I stood up, taking his hand in mine and led him to the door.
If only all of our problems could have been resolved so amicably. Well, they were never his problems, only mine that he had to suffer through.
…
I hate to think back on how the rest of the year carried on but the only way to put it behind me is to be honest. I can pretend that I’m looking for the truth, soul-searching but I sense that I’m only be trying to find sympathy for myself.
But that wouldn’t be fair to anyone in this story. It was me. I was the snake in their Garden of Eden. I truly didn’t want to be and I would like to say that I hurt myself more but that would be a lie. And even at my worst I wasn’t much of a liar, a master manipulator but not a liar. And what could be gained from lying to oneself?
As Serge would sometimes mutter before one of my fits, as he would call them, “And here we go.”
I would say and maybe even Serge would that until the winter holidays rolled around, the days were mostly good. I would definitely accuse him of bizarre things like the time I had the nightmare that he had killed my dog that I had when I was a little girl in Seattle.
I woke from the nightmare, terrified. All of Serge’s kindness appeared to have an ulterior motive as if he wanted something from me, to ridicule me, or that he was using me for sex.
Which was laughable, because if there were a contest in that area I would have won. I used the sex not just for closeness it brought to us but for peace of mind.
I called him angry, so furious. I hate to remember this and really it only got so much worse.
“You killed my dog.” I shook as I screamed into the phone.
“Hmmm,” He mumbled into the phone. It was rather early, 5:00 AM on a Sunday, “You don’t have a dog. What…”
“It was a dream,” I grunted as if he were stupid, “I had a dog when I was seven and you were kicking it.”
“I’m sorry you had a nightmare. Do you want me to come over?”
I hated when he would try and be reasonable with me. Hated it.
“Why would I want to see you after what you did?” I snorted into the phone and held it away from me as if his stupidity were contagious. “I don’t ever want to see you again in my life.”
“Celena… not again…”
I screamed out fuck you and hung-up.
He texted me a half hour later and I didn’t think I would have survived another minute if he hadn’t. The moment I had hung-up on him I felt an all-encompassing grief. I wanted so much to call him back and apologize but a larger part of me needed him t
o chase me.
serge: Going for a run with Danny and Brendan then to tutor Anthony. I’ll be over after that.
Anthony was Zelda’s little brother. He was probably about ten at the time and had, according to Serge, untreated ADD. He tutored him twice a week.
Being reminded of his job filled me with unbearable guilt. The guilt would simmer into anger over the following hour but for the moment all I felt was guilt at my outlandish behavior.