Blue Love : Blue Valley High — Senior Year

by Mj Fields

  She slaps my finger away. “You don’t hold the cards, Lucas,” she says as she turns and walks away. “Keep in mind that I can end it whenever the fuck I want to.”

  “You think I don’t know that!” I scream at her. “Yet you stood there the other day, dealing out demands, and think I give a shit knowing that! How about you leave me the fuck alone until you’re actually holding that card and save the threats. Because, until then, there isn’t a damn thing I can do. You fucking taught me that.”

  “I hate you!” she yells back as she slides in her car.

  “Yeah, well, you’re not alone!” I yell back, sliding into mine.

  I hate me, too.

  When I pull in, I see Tessa walking inside with Chewy and silently thank a God, who doesn’t listen to me, that she’s back.

  Once inside, she avoids me, and I resolve to not thank God again. I mean, who am I to thank Him, anyway?

  We eat, have small talk, and watch TV. Tonight, it’s The Nanny. I sit and pretend to study, but all my focus is on Tessa as she helps Jake study his spelling words.

  I learn that Tessa has tryouts tomorrow and test the communication waters, in front of her family, by telling her, “Good luck. Or is it break a leg?”

  “Either works,” she says. “And thanks.”

  The morning ritual is the same, and we even take Kendall and Jake to school together. But when we drop them off, I ask her if she wants to talk, which is fucked up.

  When she doesn’t say a damn thing and I make another attempt, she cuts me off with a firm, “Don’t.”

  She comes home from school and studies, completely fucking ignoring me, which I deserve, unless anyone in her family is around, then she is all bullshit smiles or wearing headphones.

  When Kendall asks her what’s wrong, she tells her that she has call-backs, and that seems to ward off the questioning.

  I get a bit pissed that they don’t see what she’s doing, but I also get why they don’t. She’s got a routine down, and she’s comfortable in it, and so do they. I’m the one who’s leeching off them.

  I had no intention of signing up for basketball after what Coach Jones said, but there is no way I can come home after school and look at the clock for six hours, so I sign up. I also sign up to coach at the weekend intramural camp for the elementary kids this weekend so I’m not hanging around the house, wishing my life is something it’s not.

  Friday night, Alex spilled those beans, and she announced she got the lead and that her practices start at six every night and go on until nine, starting Monday. I felt some sort of relief, not just for me. For her.

  Basketball ends at five, and I know damn well I could fuck off for an hour so that she isn’t forced to see me, and that I’m not forced to see her. So, that’s what I do, and I do it for a week.

  After practice, Alex, Ryan and I either shoot hoops in the barn or guns out back. Tommy’s in love and not around as much. I’m happy for him, but I miss him, too. Truth be told, we don’t hang much at his place and, obviously, I’m on Ross arrest, so I’m not home at all.

  I figure out that Tessa never told anyone about Sadi. More than once, I want to, hoping they will kick me out, but if they don’t, an awkward situation would be even worse, so I always talk myself out of it. Jade and Tommy know, of course. Tessa made sure Tommy knew, because typical Tessa wants me to have someone to talk to.

  Saturday night, Josie called and asked that Tessa train me at the restaurant. I was tired from being dragged around by the kids, but also wanted to be around her and, forced or not, I wanted a conversation with her. So, she taught me how to run the restaurant’s dishwasher, and I pretended not to get it the first time, which was pathetic, but it kept us there in close proximity for four hours.

  Little did I know that just put me in a front row seat to watching the only girl I ever loved slip farther and farther out of my reach.

  The next week, Tessa stayed with Maggie two days again, and then it was like a rerun of a shitty TV program the rest of the week. Life severely sucked, but it sucked a little less because at least she was in my life. Soon, very fucking soon, that would be gone too.

  Dad and I made the decision to stay the course for college, because one never knew what Sadi would do. So, sometimes I would daydream about that, but the star of that dream wasn’t even football anymore. It was Tessa in the stands, smiling at me.

  Saturday morning, I woke up at the ass crack of dawn and headed up to the camp, knowing that Tessa always cleaned it the weekend before hunting season began. I decided that was one thing I could take off her plate. Alex made it sound like she did it after cleaning the house, so I thought it was in the afternoon.

  When she walks in, I’m on the counter, shirt off, sweating because I started a fire when I got here, washing windows. She looks at me with disdain, but I let it roll off my back, smile, jump down, and ask, “Hey, Tessa, did you come to help?”

  Tessa forces a smile. “Yep, I do this the same day every year.”

  “I know, Alex told me. He mentioned you came up in the afternoon, so I came up early this morning. I thought I could get it done so you didn’t have to. You do everything at the house. I thought I should pitch in since you have to deal with my sorry ass for the next two months.”

  She avoids eye contact by looking around. When she sees the black frame around the cardboard that she had written “Doe Camp” at her birthday party, sitting above the fireplace on the mantle, her eyes stall.

  “You like it?” I cross my arms and lean against the counter. “I thought it deserved a frame.”

  “Looks good.” She looks away as she takes a deep breath, carries a bag over, sets it on the counter, and begins unloading the cleaning supplies that she brought with her.

  I reach over and grab a bottle of Clorox to mix in with the soapy water that I intend on using to wash down the walls as she grabs for the Pine-Sol, and our hands touch. Both of us freeze, and then she closes her eyes. I notice her inhale deeply and force myself to pull my hand away.

  When she opens her eyes, I hold my hands up in the air. “My bad. It won’t happen again.”

  She looks at me, expecting me to move, and I try, but for some reason, I just can’t do it.

  I close my eyes and whisper, “Tessa, I can’t move right now, so you’re going to have to.”

  She ducks under my arm and walks around to the other side of the counter where she begins organizing the products.

  “I’ll give you a minute, and then you can leave and I’ll clean, or we just get it done so we can both leave.”

  I watch as she walks outside, leaving the door open, as she heads around to the back of the truck and opens the tailgate. When she comes back in, she is carrying two bags. She walks to the opposite side of the counter, sets the bags down, and begins unloading groceries.

  “Are there more in the truck?”

  “Yeah, a couple more bags.”

  I bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind me.

  She calls behind me, “You may want to leave that door open. It’s hot as hell in here.”

  When I head back to open the door, I walk out, knowing that I am on the brink of losing my shit.

  I walk to the creek, squat down, and wrap my arms around my knees. I have messed up everything, and that is on me. It’s my penance to pay. I have broad shoulders for a reason—to lug my shit around. But she doesn’t. I also have strong arms. Arms that were made, and ache, to lift someone else up. No, fuck that, not someone else—her. I messed that up. I messed up something that could have been so right.

  I try, in vain, to hold back tears, because I am not one to cry, though I have more lately than I have my entire life.

  I hear gravel crunch beneath her feet. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her shaking out one of the area rugs. Then I see her freeze.

  I quickly slap away the tears and hear her inhale a sharp breath. I look out of the corner of my eye and see her covering her mouth, pain evident in her eyes.

 
I take in a deep breath and say, “I’m so sorry, Tessa.”

  “Lucas,” she whispers, “please don’t cry.”

  “I have never felt this sort of pain. I feel like my heart is literally breaking into pieces, and then I see you and feel the hate you have for me. I can’t even give you the space you deserve. I fucked up.”

  In a flash, she is by my side, crouching down and wrapping her arms around me. I stiffen.

  “Tessa, don’t.”

  When she doesn’t let go, I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “I am so sorry.”

  “I don’t hate you, Lucas,” she whispers.

  And I feel like a dick, because I’m immediately slapped with the realization that her words are true. I am kicked in the gut with the knowledge that she doesn’t hate me. Just like me, she’s in love with someone she can’t have. Unlike me, she doesn’t deserve to be burdened by that.

  She let’s go, leans back so she’s sitting on her heels, and then we’re knee to knee. And yes, that, too, fucks with me.

  “I want to be your friend. It’s just going to take some time. Sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Tessa.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I’m perfect. You are lucky to have me as a friend.” Tessa forces a smile. “But Lucas, I’m lucky to have you, too.” She stands up. “Because, without you, it would take me all day to get this place clean.” She reaches down and grabs both my hands, pulling me up. Then she wipes my face with her sleeve and nods toward camp. “Let’s get this done, okay?”

  When I nod, she turns around, shaking her head. “And will you please put a shirt on?”

  Inside camp, Tessa puts on her headphones and pushes play on her Walkman.

  I tap her on the shoulder. “Share your music?” Then I pull the Walkman out of her hand and hit eject.

  “Lucas,” she says as she reaches for the tape.

  I look down at it and read her writing out loud, “Fuck off LL? Never heard of that group before.”

  “Give me the tape, or I’m going to head out of the friendship zone and go back to ignoring you.”

  “You do know that I am now going to spend the rest of my life wondering what songs are on there, right?”

  Her face pinkens. “I was mad.”

  I laugh. “Can we listen to just one song?”

  “You’re so damn conceited that you think you’re LL?” She stomps her foot, and I laugh harder.

  “Yeah, okay. My bad. I’ll just put my ego back on the pedestal it’s been on for the past couple weeks and—”

  “Seriously, Links.” She laughs. “Shut up.”

  “Fine, you win. I’ll go grab some music.”

  I head outside and grab the mixtape that I made then walk back in. I may not be one to wear my heart on my sleeve—hell, I didn’t even know what the phrase meant until a few weeks ago—but I managed to make my first fucking mix tape, and on it, every single song that reminds me of Tessa Ross.

  The label on mine is no less embarrassing as hers. But, unlike her, I don’t give a shit if she sees it. Hell, I want her to know … but that, too, is selfish.

  As the first song begins, I grab my shirt and pull it on, followed by my hat, so I can cover my face that has got to be turning red right now.

  “Country, huh?” she says with a shit-ass grin on her face.

  I toss a cleaning rag at her. “Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

  After, “I’m in a Hurry” by Alabama plays, which was the first song I heard around Tessa. Then “Hey Jealousy” plays, and she sings along with it. I wonder how long it will take for her to figure out it’s from her notebook. Then I wonder how long it will take to figure out the significance of the song that she wrote in her book on the same day as our first kiss.

  When “Eternal Flame” comes on, she finally looks at me then quickly away.

  Over the music, she says, “You wanna get the loft, or do you want me to?”

  “Loft was the first place I cleaned.” Because I knew I didn’t want to be in my own head too long before I went up and remembered the night you and Toby had a heart to heart and talked about me.

  While we clean, we are lyrically reminded of our short-lived romance that has turned into a tragic love story. We exchange knowing glances; some with smiles, and some with sadness. Regardless, it’s the truest love I have ever felt just the same.

  The music stops after “Please Forgive Me” by Brian Adams, drilling a proverbial knife in my heart as I’m emptying the bucket of soapy water out the back door.

  “I’m hungry, are you?”

  She shakes her head.

  “You haven’t eaten shit in two weeks, Tessa.”

  She shrugs. “I haven’t been playing sports. I don’t need to consume as many calories.”

  “Okay, as your friend, I am telling you that you’ve lost weight. Before you know it, those are going to disappear.” I point to her boobs, and she slaps my hand.

  We both start to laugh.

  I push out my bottom lip. “Come eat lunch with me, please?”

  “Fine.”

  I can’t help but grin as I quickly pack up the bag with her cleaning supplies, and then we head out.

  I get to the door first and open it, and she slides in. Then I walk around and open the door behind mine, setting the bag in, then hop in.

  I wait for her to buckle. When she doesn’t, I look at her.

  “What?” she asks.

  “Buckle up, baby.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Sorry. Buckle up, TT.”

  We drive into town and stop at the pizza place. I order for both of us and, while we wait for the food, I grab her a carton of milk, because I notice she’s been skipping breakfast. Opening it, I pop a straw in before setting it down in front of her.

  She looks at me weirdly, and I wink. “Does the body good.”

  “Overstepping,” she mumbles.

  “Not a way your male friends talk to you?” I ask.

  Straw between her lips, she looks up and rolls her eyes as she shakes her head.

  “Good to know.” And it is.

  I walk over and grab plates, napkins, and some plastic silverware, bringing it back to the table and setting a plate and napkin in front of her.

  “Order’s up,” the goofy kid behind the counter yells.

  I go retrieve it.

  Setting down the chicken salad sub and two slices of cheese pizza, I then unwrap the sub and set half on the plate in front of her, hoping she eats something.

  Looking down at the plate, she exhales a deep breath, picks up the half sub on her plate, and takes a bite. As she nibbles, I inhale my half. Just like her, I haven’t felt much like eating lately.

  When I’m done, I sit back and watch her pick at hers. When she looks as if she’s getting frustrated, I lean in and whisper, “Tessa, just eat what you can.”

  To that, she takes a huge bite and begins chewing loudly and obnoxiously. I can’t help but laugh. And I’m glad I do, because I’m graced with a smile, a genuine one.

  “That good, huh?”

  She rolls her eyes and takes a smaller bite before setting it down. “I think I’m going to get the rest to-go.”

  She heads over to the counter and asks the kid behind it, “Can I get this wrapped up to-go?”

  “Anything else you want, Tessa? My number maybe?” the little shit asks.

  “You got a better chance of seeing God, Jimmy.”

  Laughing, Jimmy‚ the little shit, wraps it up and hands it to her.

  Glaring at him, I stand then fix my face real quick when Tessa comes back, because I’m sure that’s not how a friend acts and, right now, even though I don’t deserve it, she’s on board to be that, so I’m hell-bent on walking the thin line without fucking up this time.

  Once outside, I ask, “Who was that?”

  “The boy I’m going to give myself to first,” she whispers.

  Yeah, fuck that.

  I scowl at her. “Not funny.”

>   She grins. “You’re my friend, right? So, maybe we shouldn’t be able to talk about stuff like this. What do you think?”

  “First, I think you need to realize you don’t date little Jimmys; and second, I think, why not?”

  “Because it makes your face do that.” She points at me then gets in my vehicle.

  I walk around to get in and don’t bother asking what my face is doing. I already fucking know.

  I slide in, buckle my seat belt, and look over at her.

  Her arms are crossed, and she’s looking at me like she’s expecting me to say something, so I ask, “What?”

  “What to you?”

  I reach over, grab her seat belt, and buckle it.

  “You’re a little obsessed with my seat belt.”

  “You’re the one who wakes me up screaming every night after that dream you have.” I start the vehicle.

  She huffs, “I haven’t had that dream in a couple weeks.”

  I glance over at her and lay out the truth, “You’ve had it every night.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.” She looks down.

  “The first night I left it alone, the next day, Kendall asked me why I didn’t help you anymore. She looked at me like she was pissed. You know, a lot like you do most of the time.” I shrug, and she looks up at me. “So, I’ve come in every night at about 2:30 in the morning. You really don’t remember this?”

  She shakes her head, and a wave of blonde covers her blue eyes. I have to stop myself from reaching over and pushing it behind her ear. “Well, we have had some fantastic conversations.”

  “About what?” she asks.

  “I’ll never tell.”

  “That’s not fair.” She looks away from me and out the window.

  “No, what’s not fair is the things you say and ask me to do to you while you’re sleeping.”

  She swings her head around and demands, “Like what?”