All I Ever Wanted

by Marilyn Brant, Caisey Quinn, Rhonda Helms

  “I thought you said you were a history major, not a psychology one.”

  “Psych minor,” I shot back.

  “Seriously?”

  “No.” I kind of laughed. “Philosophy.”

  “Oh, that’s lots better.” She smiled a tiny bit. “Fine, Alex. You’ve given me some very good advice. And you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right, but I don’t care about that. I’m still really, really pissed about you sneaking away this morning. At least you should’ve let me drive you home.” I reached over and brought my hand as tenderly as I could to her cheek. Stroked her from her face to her neck then let my hand rest lightly on her shoulder. Trying to reestablish the connection we’d shared. It was still there in the daytime, if only she would open her beautiful blue eyes and see it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just—I know you’re leaving.”

  “I am,” I admitted. “And so are you in a week.”

  There were tears in her eyes that she was trying to hold back. “We’ll be an entire state apart with you in Cleveland and me in Cincinnati.”

  “Yeah, but it’s only a three-and-a-half-hour drive, Samantha. It’s not overseas.”

  “It’s not just that. There are all of those other women who are going to give you their phone numbers. Who are going to want to be with you on the nights we’re not together. And there will be a lot of them. A lot of women. A lot of nights.”

  I couldn’t take any more of this illogical, insecurity-driven crap. “So you’re saying I’ll be unable to control myself? Incapable of making a commitment to you and sticking with it? Thank you very much for assuming the worst about me.”

  “Alex, I didn’t mean—”

  “You know what? I’m not playing this game.” I nudged her even farther away from the mob of people inside the lodge until we were almost in a corner. I was trying hard for her sake not to make a scene. But my patience had run thinner than a tripwire. I had to lay it all on the line right now and then get the hell out of this place.

  “This is the truth for me—I really like you, Samantha. I really care about you. I want to try to make something work between us. To see if we have a shot at forever. But if you don’t think we’d make a good couple, then please have the courage to tell me so. I tried to give you an out last night, but you didn’t want it. Every time I start to get attached, start to care, start to let down my guard with you, you pull away. You’re not the only person on the planet with feelings and fears, you know.”

  Dammit. I could feel the prickle of wetness in my eyes and had to stare hard at the lodge floor until it was gone.

  Then I took a deep breath and continued. “I’m finished with school in May, and there’s no saying I have to stay in Cleveland after that. I’ll probably try to get my secondary teaching certification somewhere, and I could do that in another city. Like Cincinnati, for instance.” I paused and watched this realization wash over her. I could tell she hadn’t even considered the possibility of us living in the same city before. What would she think now that she had? Would it change anything?

  She was still silent though, and I had a few last things to say. “But no matter where I am, I can’t make a relationship work alone. So if you don’t feel the same way about me, I understand. Maybe you have different plans for your future. Maybe your family sees you with a different kind of guy and you agree with them. Maybe the connection between us isn’t as strong as I thought—and hoped—it was. I’ve been wrong before.”

  But God, I really hope I’m not wrong this time.

  There was a thin black marker on one of the serving tables. I nabbed it and snatched the paper bag out of her grasp, scribbled my phone number on it, and handed it back to her. “That’s my cell. The next step is yours. If you like me back, if you want to give this thing between us a chance, then call me. And if you don’t…well, okay. No hard feelings. But think about it and choose. Either way, I’ll be heading home tonight. And either way, I wish only good things for you, Samantha—or Amanda—Abbott.”

  “Alex,” she said. Then stopped. Too many thoughts must’ve been racing through her brain. Her facial expressions couldn’t keep up with all of them, and I saw a trillion conflicting emotions reflected there. Time for me to go and give her a chance to think.

  Choose me, Samantha, I wanted to shout. But she needed to decide this for herself.

  So instead, I kissed her lightly on her forehead, whispered goodbye, and walked out, trying not to let the whole room of happy, festive, celebrating townspeople see how very much I didn’t want to leave her side.

  Sami

  I stood at the foot of Hale Bridge. Alone.

  The closing ceremony was in progress, and the big bonfire for the town’s youth had been lit. Even from a distance, I could smell the sticky-sweet aroma of s’mores being made over the open flame.

  I fidgeted with my phone and clicked it on to check the time. Clicked it off when I realized only three minutes had gone by since I’d last looked at it. No new voicemails, emails, or texts.

  He wasn’t coming.

  Maybe he hadn’t gotten my message.

  Or maybe he had gotten it and was just blowing me off. With some time to think about it, maybe he’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble after all.

  How could I blame him? I hadn’t made any of this easy. I’d complained for most of my life about my parents not seeing me clearly. Complained about my brother being blind as a bat when it came to relationships, missing all of Maya’s signals. Not to mention how unaware Oliver seemed when it came to my emotions. But I’d been just as oblivious as all of them, if not worse.

  I hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to Alex’s feelings—and I’d spent the whole day since our conversation at the skating lodge feeling guilty, uncomfortable, and humbled that he’d even had to point that out. Not that my lack of insight was intentional, of course, but the end result was the same. I’d hurt him. How many other people that I cared about had I hurt without realizing it?

  I sighed, took a couple of steps onto the bridge, set down the items I’d brought with me on one corner, and then retreated again.

  Maybe Alex and I wouldn’t be together, but I was trying to find some sort of bright side. I was grateful he’d cared enough about me to want to explain how I’d let him down. That he’d had the courage not to just walk away from me without a word or a reason. The way I had walked away from him. Twice.

  Hiding in my imaginary world might’ve been my old defense mechanism against living in this one, but I could do a better job from this point forward. I could try harder to live more mindfully, more honestly, more courageously. Even though I knew it would take a lot to get me to believe anything fairytale-like could happen for me—at least outside of Amethystonia.

  I took another few steps onto the bridge but stopped again. I wanted to do something normal, like make a wish. Normal people made wishes on bridges all the time, didn’t they? But I’d never done that here. Not even when I was wishing like crazy for something. Or, rather, for someone.

  “So this is the famous Hale Bridge—up close and personal,” a voice behind me said. For a split second, I thought it was my imagination talking. I’d been mentally replaying everything he’d said to me over and over again. But I turned, and there he was. Alexander Hamilton, standing in front of me in the flesh. All black leather and denim. Complete with piercings and those inquisitive gray-green eyes. How was it possible to have missed him so much after only a few hours? To be so relieved to see him again?

  “You came.”

  “Couldn’t seem to stay away,” he said with a small smile. “But I’ll be honest, Samantha. I tried. The more time I spend with you, the closer you come to really breaking my heart. I’m kinda hoping you’ll find something a little less painful to do with it.”

  I felt the tears well up behind my eyes and begin to spill over. And gratitude for this second—well, actually, third—chance. I rushed to him and threw my arms around him. I buried my face in th
e space beside his neck, just above his right shoulder. I loved being there. “Thanks for not giving up on me, Alex.”

  “Well, thanks for your message. When you called and asked me to meet you here, I was in the shower, trying to warm up after spending so long outside in the cold today.” He paused and squeezed me a little tighter. “But I feel warmer now. Just don’t stop hugging me, okay?”

  I nuzzled my lips against his neck. “You’re saying only hugging is allowed?”

  “Why? What else have you got in mind?”

  There were tons of townspeople of all ages wandering around by the lake and in the area surrounding the bonfire, but I didn’t care who saw us together. I hoped everyone did.

  I lifted my face to his and kissed him with every drop of passion I had, probably in view of Reverend Randolph, all of the town gossips, and maybe even my parents. I kissed Alex until we were both breathless. Until I couldn’t feel even a twinge of the January chill.

  “That’s a good start,” he murmured.

  “I’m sorry for running away before. Both times,” I told him. “I won’t do that again. Or jump to conclusions without talking to you. Or just disappear.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah.” I pulled away a bit so I could look him in the eye when I said this next part. “And I’m going to try to follow your advice to be more open with my parents. Try to merge both sides of myself into one whole person. It can’t be as hard as I was making it.”

  At that, he grinned. “I think I know an easy way to begin. Which way do we walk?” He glanced at the bridge. “Is the magical kingdom over there or are we standing in it already?”

  I shook my head and pointed. “It’s on the other side. We’re nowhere close to it now.”

  “Well, we could be. The first step is knowing when something exists, right? Like that this place is a part of you and it’s just as real, in some ways, as your life in Abbott Springs or Cincinnati. Like that another person cares about you and you’re not alone in the relationship. First step is always to acknowledge what’s really there.” And then he took my hand and walked with me all the way across the bridge. All the way to the other side…and into my imaginary world. A world I’d never dreamed I’d ever share with anyone.

  “Tell me what you see?” he asked.

  “You mean now or what I saw as a child?”

  “Oh, c’mon, Samantha. We don’t outgrow everything. What you saw once, you can still see now, can’t you?”

  “All right,” I said, closing my eyes and remembering. “It’s a land where all the girls wear beautiful silk dresses that flow to the ground and shimmer when we walk. Where it never rains. Where colorful flowers bloom along every path, and they smell so wonderful, but no one would ever pick them. They wouldn’t want to take them away from where they belong. It’s a place where people are kind to each other, and I have some friends who truly understand me.” I moved a little closer to him to show he was included in that intimate, exclusive circle. “Where the forest animals sing popular songs and we can eat as many Pop Tarts as we want—”

  “Pop Tarts?”

  I opened my eyes and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I really loved them as a kid. They were so easy to fix! No baking required. You just put them in the toaster and voilà.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, okay, I can see the appeal now.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Anyway, you get the idea. It was once my version of utopia, although I’d probably change a few details now that I’m a grown up. Thanks for visiting Amethystonia with me.”

  He squeezed my hand in return. “Thanks for being willing to share it.”

  As we began to walk back, it seemed ceremonious in a way. Not that we were leaving the magical kingdom of my childhood behind, exactly. More like we were returning home after a private weekend getaway.

  But Alex stopped in the middle of the bridge. “This is my favorite place to be,” he told me. “It’s the middle, where both worlds meet. It’s the spot where the magic actually happens because, from here, we have perspective. We can see both sides—the real world and the secret world. And we can get a great view of that frozen lake in front of us too, which I like looking at a helluva lot more tonight than I did this afternoon when I was mad at you.”

  I laughed, both relieved Alex wasn’t still mad at me and also loving how easily he accepted and understood things like this. He knew all about what it was like to live in both an imaginary and tangible world simultaneously. I suspected, as someone so creative, he was just ahead of me in this area by a few years. That he’d already wrestled with a lot of his fears and fantasies and had found a way to make his dreams come true in the real world without losing his playful insights into other realms.

  I leaned into him and kissed him again. Then I said, “I’m glad you were able to stay for a little longer tonight. I wanted you to be a part of something.” I pointed to my belongings—the thermos and the stack of Styrofoam cups I’d set down on the side of the bridge. “It’s almost time for our special tradition.”

  He raised one dark eyebrow, suspicious. “What tradition?”

  “My friends and I get together every year at Winterfest for a toast with hot cocoa that’s spiked with peppermint schnapps,” I explained. “We’ve been doing it secretly for a while, ever since Kennedy went away to college four years ago. He was the first of our group to leave Abbott Springs. Not sure what’ll happen next year though. Everyone’s lives are changing, and we may not have many more years where we’ll be able to meet like this.”

  “So who all is coming?”

  “If everyone shows? There could be seven or eight of us, maybe more. Maya, Bree, and Everly haven’t missed it yet. And some of the guys come too. Oliver is usually here.”

  Alex cringed.

  I smiled. “I’ll tell him he has to be nice. You’ll stay for it?”

  “Yeah, Samantha. I’ll stay.”

  In the distance, I could see a few friends coming toward us. It was nearly time… Alex put his arm around me and, together, we watched them approach.

  Soon, after everyone arrived, I’d do the honors of pouring the cocoa and we’d make our toasts. In years past, I’d struggled with what to say, but I knew that wouldn’t be the case this time. I was happy to be where I was tonight and to get to share this moment with Alex. I couldn’t guess where things might be eleven months from now, by the time the end of December rolled around, but this year was starting out a lot better than I’d dared to hope.

  Cheers, friends, I whispered to myself. Here’s to a year full of love.

  by Caisey Quinn

  For my Jubb, you'll always be a rockstar to me.

  Everly

  I didn’t know how I let Bree talk me into this. But she was leaving for France on Sunday, so who knew when I’d see her again? I couldn’t even imagine what the next year would be like without her. She’d had to leave last night’s show early to get back to Abbott Springs for Winterfest. And thanks to her coercing, now I was headed there too. To perform. Which I swore I would avoid at all costs.

  She rarely missed one of my shows, but that was about to change. I blocked the idea of her no longer being in the same country as me out of my head. I had enough to worry about as it was.

  Truthfully, the only thing I could think as I stared out the window on the way from our performance at Peabody’s to Abbott Springs was, There is a lot of fucking corn in Ohio.

  This past year while touring with my band, I’d tried my damnedest not to think about home. I didn’t spend much time there—just popped by my mom’s house occasionally to do laundry, which tended to pile up when one lived out of cheap motels and a van. But my friends and I had a tradition. One we were keeping apparently.

  Every year we met up at Winterfest and then got together at our town’s somewhat famous covered bridge for a midnight toast after the festival ended. This was pretty much the only time I spent more than a night in Abbott Springs. And there was a good reason for that. One I was trying really hard to ignore. But s
peeding toward Abbott Springs made that pretty much impossible.

  “Jubb, you can slow down, dude. The festival isn’t going anywhere. We’ll make it.”

  Justin “Jubby” Cohen had been my best friend since middle school. Back when he was chunky and I was punk rock in a town full of polo shirts. Now he was all chiseled muscles tatted up to hell and back and I was still, well…I was still me.

  I fingered a bright pink strand of my hair before blowing it out of my face. Some redheads couldn’t pull off pink streaks. I might’ve been one of them. Not that I cared.

  “Ev, we have an hour to get there, set up, and get a soundcheck in. You think our beloved townies are going to give a shit if there’s enough feedback in the mics to attract water buffalo?”

  After huffing out a breath, I leaned back in my seat. Damn, I didn’t want to do this.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’d performed at some shady dives. A few where the band stood behind protective bars to keep the less-than-classy clientele at bay. But performing at Abbott Springs’ Winterfest was basically my worst nightmare come to life.

  In ninth grade I sang in the school talent show. I had ears. I knew I had a decent voice. But I was booed. Literally heckled into tears until I fled from the stage like my leather pants had caught fire. I could still hear them.

  Dyke! You suck! No one likes you, freakshow!

  I barely stifled a painful shudder just thinking about it.

  Those movies, where the shy outcast chick won everyone over with her angelic voice when she got the courage to sing in front of the whole school…yeah, that was a steaming pile of bullshit.

  But that was then. My music had changed me. I wasn’t the pink-haired freak who hid in the girls’ bathroom anymore. At least I was damn sure trying not to be. It had been two years since my high school graduation. I was mostly over it. But this place had a strange effect on me. The closer I got to it, the closer I got to that same old inadequate version of myself.