by Amy Steele
“It has been months, Ali,” she whispers almost urgently. I nod. “I mean he dumped you hard and acts like you don’t even exist.” She touches my hand lightly. “I hate to be the one to say it, but you need to move on.” I pull my hand back from hers like she burned me.
“I don’t want to move on,” I mumble angrily.
“I know,” she says and takes my hand, ignoring me. We listen to the rest of the lecture and then have lab time. Christina decides I need to spruce up a little and puts some blush on my sunken cheeks and gloss on my lips before English. When the bell rings, I am surprised to find Jeremy waiting outside of the door. Christina smiles and shrugs as she walks away. That sneaky little . . . move on . . . Jeremy. Some friend she is.
“Hey, Ali,” Jeremy says, taking my backpack from my shoulder to carry it like he used to back when he was my boyfriend. “I thought we’d walk to class together.”
“Okay,” I say, feeling naked without my bag to hide behind.
Jeremy is a nice guy. We dated until the end of last year; we just thought it was better to break it off and enjoy our summers. It was mutual, but now I am thinking it was more my idea than his. Being back at school has made him sentimental or something. Jeremy had persistently kept in touch this summer, telling me he missed me, but I have been a ghost the last few months. Still, he has been telling me that he misses “us” and has been trying to take me out.
“So,” he says as we get into an almost-empty hallway, “winter formal is in three weeks, and I heard you didn’t have a date.” I stop walking and look at him.
He is a good guy, cute too. But can’t he see that I am broken? I have known Jeremy since elementary school, and he has always been my friend. I was there when he made varsity football our freshman year and went to every one of his games. He was the popular jock, and I was the nerd. He was sought after by all the girls in the school, and I couldn’t lie to myself—I could see the appeal. Jeremy is average height, but loaded with muscles. His hair is the color of fresh brewed coffee, and his eyes are this intense amber brown that you can’t help but get lost in.
Last year we just looked at each other and decided to give dating a try. It was strange at first, especially the first time he kissed me, but I also felt safe and wanted. It was strange walking hand in hand with him as he carried my backpack class to class, with everyone watching. I secretly wondered if we’d get married someday and tell our kids how we met in the sandbox, friends all our lives. In the end, I realized he’d always be my friend, and he had gained a new perspective in what he saw in me. He told me the night we broke up that I am the love of his life.
“I’m not going,” I tell him flatly. He takes my hand in his and keeps walking. I want to snatch my hand back, but it feels so warm, and I feel that wanted feeling. Immediately, people turn to watch us. I’m sure we will be rumored to be back together by first period tomorrow. Right before we enter our English class together, he turns me toward him.
“Please just think about it,” he says, amber eyes pleading. “I’m asking you to please go to our senior winter formal, Ali. Even if it is only as friends.” Jeremy leans in and lightly brushes his lips to my cheek, then walks into class. I can feel eyes on me, two of them blue and burning fiercely, as I take my seat. The entire class saw and heard everything between Jeremy and me, and I know my face has to be the color of a tomato. Great.
Jeremy puts my bag on my desk, and I slowly look up. Cooper looks upset and gives me a look that chills my heart. He told me to go to school events. He is the one who won’t even speak to me. How can he be angry at me? The bell rings, and I sit in my hard plastic chair.
“Don’t unpack your things,” Mr. Perez says. “We will be spending this period in the library so you can do some research for your paper that is due before winter break.” The class is excited, and Jeremy stands to carry my bag for me again.
“I got it, Jer, but thanks.” I pick up my bag, and I’m one of the first to get to the library. I pick a seat where I can be alone, though it is obvious that Jeremy wants to sit with me. I pull out my notebooks and start to work on my paper. It is almost done—okay, it is completely done. But I want to appear enthralled with it. We were each assigned a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay; mine was “I Know I Am but Summer to Your Heart.” It is intense and extremely appropriate. It starts “I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year.” You could say it hit home when I read it.
After about twenty minutes of rereading my finished paper, I roam the reference section just to move around. No one is back in this part of the library, and l take advantage of the quiet. I lean back against the bookcase and close my eyes. I feel like crying and talk myself into holding it together. I hate this so much. Cooper is all I can think about. Sure, Jeremy is being so sweet, and I should be enjoying my last year in high school. But I feel trapped in my heart and stuck in my brain. I bang my head against the spines of the books and let out a sigh.
“You doing okay back here, Ms. Starr?” I snap my eyes open to find Cooper standing next to me. He is holding a clipboard in one hand and a book in the other. I close my eyes and take in as much air as my lungs will hold. I will not cry.
“Yes, Mr. Perez,” I answer. He looks around, and it’s obvious we are all alone.
“Are you dating Jeremy Fisher?” he asks, moving closer. I can smell his aftershave, so I inhale as much as my lungs can hold, breathing him in. He is wearing a white button-up shirt untucked, with a tan sweater vest over it; it goes perfect with the brown corduroy jacket and dark jeans—he totally is pulling off the “sexy young teacher” look.
“I’m not dating anyone, Mr. Perez.” I swallow. “My boyfriend dumped me, and I am too heartbroken to move on,” I say quietly. “Heard you are dating Ms. Sherman, maybe even a June wedding.” Oops. I hadn’t expected that all to slip out.
Cooper takes in a sharp breath like I had hurt him. I wouldn’t normally be so bold, but I felt braver in a public place surrounded by all these books. I finally look up and see the pain of my words in his eyes. I want to tell him that I don’t how to do this or ask him what I should do. I plead with my eyes, “Teach me, Coop . . . teach me how to not love you anymore.”
“Maybe your boyfriend is just as heartbroken,” he says closer to my face. “I bet that he is still in love with you and barely making it through each day without hearing your voice or feeling your touch.” His words come out so fast I can hardly understand him. “And you have bad information if you think I’m dating Stacy Sherman. My girlfriend is busy with school right now but had hoped she would have waited for me when she gets out in May.” I notice his hand is holding the shelf for support. Without my permission, I reach and touch it. Cooper’s eyes are closed, and he doesn’t move.
“I wish that were true,” I whisper, and before I know it, his face is in front of mine. Is he going to kiss me? Maybe yell at me?
“I am still in love you, Ali,” he mouths the words, then is gone. I stand there, stunned for a moment until I can breathe properly. Having Cooper’s lips so close to mine has left me dizzy and my heart pounding. Back at my table, the world seems oblivious to my shattering experience. Jeremy slips into the chair across from me.
“You okay?” he asks. “You look like you are going to be sick.”
“I think I am.”
Christina drove me home from school, Jeremy following in my car, and I spent the rest of the week in bed. My stomach hurt so bad I was doubled over in pain; then my back would ache, and I wouldn’t be able to get comfortable. I have never missed this much school—ever. My dad is superworried, but I know what I am sick with. Heartbreak. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with what Coop said to me in the deserted reference section. My hopes go up, then down. Up, then down again. A shattered heart can only take so much.
On Friday, Jeremy came over after school, bringing me all my homework. They were all separated into large envelopes and sealed to prevent the urge to cheat. I noticed the
English envelope was the thickest. Jeremy and I sat on the couch as he filled me in on the gossip I’d missed. He confirmed what I feared—everyone assuming we were back together.
“I have really missed you this week,” he tells me after we have been talking for about twenty minutes. I smile weakly. What is the right thing to do here?
“Yeah right,” I respond because I have been anything but “miss-able.” I’ve been a shell of myself. Jeremy moves closer and takes my hand in his, and again, I get that warm feeling.
“Your hands are freezing,” he remarks, then pulls me into his chest. It feels familiar, but not right, yet he is so warm that I just allow it. “I really have missed you, Ali. More than just this week,” Jeremy says closer to my ear.
“Oh,” is all I can say. Jeremy doesn’t say anything for a while; he just seems content to hold me.
“So did you think any more about the winter dance?” he asks. I wondered when he would bring that up.
“Oh . . . Jeremy,” I stutter. “I don’t think that is a good idea.” He turns and faces me.
“What about as friends?” His mysterious eyes plead with mine. I can see all the days and months we spent together in those eyes.
I sigh. “Let’s see how I am feeling next week.” I try to buy myself some time. Jeremy moves his face and brushes his lips against mine. I gasp and jump back, feeling sweat beginning to bead at my brow. Neither of us speaks—I think I’m in shock.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line,” he says, our lips still close. Gosh, I miss kissing. I debate if it is ethical to kiss Jeremy and pretend that it is Cooper.
“It’s okay,” I mumble, and as I say this, they touch again. “Thanks for bringing me my homework.” I lean back. He runs his hands through his hair, and I stand up, Jeremy following my lead.
“Feel better, okay?” Jeremy says, bending down and kissing the top of my head before he leaves. I sit stunned on the couch for a few minutes once he is gone. When I stand, my legs are so cramped it is hard to walk, but I stumble into the kitchen to make myself some hot tea.
I take my tea and homework envelopes to my bedroom. It takes me all of two seconds to rip open the English one. Inside are just a few sheets of paper regarding my actual classwork. The remainder are handwritten notes from Cooper. They are dated starting back at the first day of school until now, which means there are almost eighty notes.
Three hours later, I am more confused than ever. Cooper’s words were a mixture of love and uncertainty. He writes about how hard it is to see me every day, but how this arrangement is necessary. His last letter is the most troubling. It says:
If you love someone enough you should let them go. This is what I will do. I release you from feeling obligated to stick by me. Ali, it is over. Go live your life
I read these four life-changing sentences a dozen times. I didn’t know my heart could hurt any more, but it did.
I reluctantly go back to school on Monday. Everything seemed to look different, feel different. Jeremy walked me to English every day that week, and I let him hold my backpack and hand. So I’m a terrible person—I just needed some strength, and he was willing to provide it. I watched Cooper look at us every time we came in together. Hey, if he wanted me out of his life, then fine. I made a split-second decision scribbling some words on a scrap paper and tossing it on Jeremy’s desk. He snatched it and read it under his desk. I watched as his eyes widen; then he smiled, writing something back.
No to the dance-yes to a date. Tonight.
Pick you up at seven.
The dance is tomorrow night, and today is the last day before our two weeks of winter vacation. I held the paper flat against my desk, not noticing the class was absolutely silent. I looked up to find Cooper standing over my desk.
“Is there something more interesting than my lecture, Ms. Starr?” His voice was strained.
“Mr. Perez, that is my paper,” Jeremy said, quickly defending me.
“Then, Mr. Fisher, why is it on Allison’s desk?” The way he said my name was brutal. Like a bitter taste he couldn’t get out of his mouth. Our papers were due today at the start of class, and Mr. Perez spent the remainder of the class lecturing about, you know, I can’t even remember. The bell rings, and the rest of the students flee before any homework can be assigned over vacation. Now it was just me, Cooper, and Jeremy in the empty classroom.
Cooper never took his eyes off me while he spoke. “Mr. Fisher, have a good vacation. Ms. Starr, I will need to speak to you regarding this behavior.”
“But, Mr. Perez,” Jeremy tries again. Our teacher looked at him.
“That will be all, Jeremy. Please shut the door as you leave.” Jeremy gave me an apologetic look but left as he was told. I sat staring at the note on my desk, noticing how silent the room now was.
“I’m sorry”—I swallow—“Mr. Perez, about the note.” He sat on the desk in front of me.
“So you are going out with that tool tonight?” I looked up into his bright blue eyes.
“I was told to go live my life,” I spat and stood face-to-face with the man I still loved. “You didn’t even call me on my birthday.” My voice dropped. I know that he couldn’t, but it still hurt. I had some expectations of celebrating my day into adulthood. I had a lot of expectations that I know will never be met, and the thought is shattering.
“I should give you detention,” he said, and I felt my jaw drop open.
I felt my blush burn my face, and I moved closer. “Then do it.” Cooper grabbed my face and pulled me into a fierce kiss. It was filled with anger and passion for the brief seconds it lasted. I pulled his face to mine and let a thousand memories flood me. My fingers wove through his longer hair, and all I could think was, Finally. When he released me, I stumbled backward, and he stood. Just looking at him, hair messed up and eyes a little wild, all I wanted to do was jump him and take him on the classroom floor.
“Don’t think for one second that this has been easy for me, Ali.” He swallowed, and I could see tears in his eyes. “I have wanted to hold you”—his voice low—“to kiss you, to make you happy. Just be with you every single day. It is killing me.” He put his hand on his chest. “Can’t you see?” Cooper bent to meet my gaze. “I will always love you.” His fingers trace my cheeks and touch my neck. Our gazes lock, and I want to kiss him again. “You will always be the only one for me.”
I’m too afraid to say anything, so I act on impulse and let my lips come back to his. This time the kiss is gentle and sweet, the anger gone and the true emotion of the situation remains—love. I pull my face away from his and find his eyes open. I am so overwhelmed that I just need to get out of here. It feels like the walls are closing in on us. I grab my stuff and make a beeline to the door but stop before I push it open. I turn to have one last look at Cooper.
“Coop,” I choke out. He is watching me, and I can see his eyes are filled with tears. I swallow back my own emotion. “You are the only man who will ever hold my heart.” My courage subsides, and I just about run to my car. I’m not surprised to find Jeremy leaning against it, waiting for me.
He walks toward me and cups my face in his hands. “Are you okay?” His face is full of concern, and I’m positive I look like a complete mess. I sure feel like one. “Did Mr. Perez . . . did he do something to you?” He holds my gaze to make sure I answer honestly.
I shake my head. “No. Of course not.” I have to pause to breathe. “I’m just not used to getting into trouble.” A smile pulls across Jeremy’s lips.
“My little Ali Goody Two-shoes,” he whispers, smirking. I sigh in relief, knowing that I just dodged a bullet. Jeremy is still holding my face and now has a strange look in his eyes. I know that look—it was the same one he had right . . . before . . .
Jeremy’s mouth almost smashes into mine. His lips are eager as his hands slides from my cheeks to the back of my head. He keeps kissing my unresponsive mouth until he is satisfied. I couldn’t react in time to push him back. I literally froze in shock. W
hy does he think he has the right to kiss me?
“I’ll see you tonight at seven,” he says, kissing me one last time before jogging to his car.
Oh yeah. Because I agreed to go out with him tonight. Jeremy thinks we are getting back together.
Eight
Cooper
I don’t drink very often, but, man, right now I am pretty drunk. Ali has been out with that punk, Jeremy, three times over her winter break. What I can’t wrap my mind around is how she kissed me that last day of school and went right into Jeremy’s arms.
I should have given her a detention.
I walked to her house tonight and am just waiting for her to get home. I just want to see her, maybe even talk to her. The last time that he brought her home he tried to kiss her, and she almost let him. Maybe she knew I was watching because she looked around then went inside, alone, leaving Fisher on her doorstep. It was pretty sweet seeing how bad he wanted that kiss, how he expected it, and didn’t get it.
Now I am sitting across the street and two houses down tying one on. This house is for sale, so no one is occupying it. I should buy it. That’ll show her. Ali has been out for almost three hours again. Probably seeing some stupid movie and eating some stupid dinner. So stupidly predictable.
I am so stupid. I hang my stupid head in my hands and pull at my stupid hair.
I am drinking some sort of rum wrapped in a paper bag from the liquor store—I have become a cliché: drunken ex-boyfriend stalking the woman he loves and just can’t let go. My stomach burns from the alcohol, so I stop drinking. The first smart thing I’ve done tonight. Leaning against the door behind me, I just stare across the street. How could I have been so hasty in breaking things off with her? I haven’t forgotten one minute of our summer, though we are now plagued with the colder weather . . . colder times.