How To Get Your Heart Broken (20 page)

I wrapped my arms around Ash, hugging her
even more tightly as I thought of how much I’d wanted her to disregard my
words, though I was glad she’d listened. I thought of what Rachel had said;
that we, the most hopeless ones, sought hope the most desperately, and I hoped
Ash would remain unlike us, for all of us.

---

When I couldn’t sleep, I often found myself
reliving moments Jessie and I had shared. I knew it wasn’t healthy; there was
no use dwelling in the past. But maybe I just liked torturing myself. My mind
wandered back to our night in the fort. We’d barely slept, after spending so
much time talking and…
other
things.

There was a part of the conversation I’d
been trying not to think about, because both of us had been
too
honest and as usual, it’d scared me.
I supposed there wasn’t anything to be scared of anymore…

I
knew I was a hypocrite for prying, but I still wanted to know more about his
family.

“Can
I ask you something?”

“You
can ask…” he replied smartly, stealing my words from a past conversation.

We
were lying down inside the fort, facing each other. I could see just how clever
he thought his little joke was. But I had more serious things on my mind.
 

“At
the hospital, you were going to say something about your mom…”

He
let out a deep sigh.

“You
can tell me,” I said softly. He stared into my eyes as if he has trying to
decide if he could trust me. I didn’t look away.

“She
was depressed for a while…but mostly, she had cancer. That’s why she was
depressed.”

“How
old were you?”

I
didn’t finish the question. He knew what I meant. ‘
How
old were you when she died?’

“Fourteen,”
he whispered. I’d never seem him sad before. I felt responsible somehow.

Our
arms were entangled and he had one of his hands around my forearm, and his
thumb absently drew circles on a small spot of it as if he was trying to
uncover something. I could tell he was in deep thought. It was silent for a
long time, and after a while he said, “Do you remember that night you came over
to watch a movie?”

I
smiled, “That describes a lot of nights, Jessie.”

“You
were wearing this gorgeous green dress,” he smirked.

I
rolled my eyes, “I remember.”

His
expression turned serious again, “You could tell there was something off that
night.”

I
did remember. He had been unnaturally quiet. When he tried to joke with me, his
smile didn’t reach his eyes. When I asked him what was wrong, he never did tell
me. He said he didn’t want to talk about it. I remember feeling both
disappointed and relieved. But I’d had this undeniable urge to distract him, to
make him feel better, like I did now. I just didn’t know what to say.

“That
was the anniversary of my mom’s death, four years,” he said quietly.

A
quiet gasp escaped me. I wished I’d known. I couldn’t remember what I’d said
that night, but it probably involved some teasing. Meanwhile, there was
probably so much going on in his head. But why hadn’t he just told me that he
didn’t want to hang out that day? I’m sure entertaining me was the last thing
he wanted to do. I decided to ask him this.

“Why
did you invite me over?”

He
looked up at me and smiled. He’d been making eye contact with my arm through
most of our conversation.

“Because
I knew you’d get my mind off of it, and you did,” he confessed.

We
were silent again.

“I’m
sorry,” I said quietly.

He
raised his eyebrows in surprise, “For what?”

“I
probably gave you a hard time,” I said regretfully.

He
let out a small, pained smile and then made eye contact with my arm again. His
hand slid up my forearm. When he reached my hand, he slid his fingers between
mine.

“That
was the first time I made it through the anniversary of her death without
crying,” he swallowed. He seemed both sad and happy about this.

I’d
never lost anyone close to me. I had no grandfathers left, but they’d both died
when I was very young. Still, I could imagine that moving on was bittersweet. I
could imagine he felt relief that the pain had subsided but guilty for letting
go.

I
could tell by how rigid his face had become that this conversation has hard for
him. I feared what would happen if

I
didn’t distract him, the way I apparently always did. Jessie crying was not
something I would be able to handle. Especially when it was all my fault; I’d
brought all this on by pushing him.

I
squeezed our still interlaced hands.

“Do
you want to know about my parents?” I asked desperately.

He
nodded. “Sure,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

I
bit my lip. I was just making this up as I went. “I don’t usually have a lot of
good things to say about them,” I confessed.

Then,
I smiled because nobody is all bad and despite our strained relationships, we
family and I had had some good times.

“I’ll
tell you my favorite memory,” I said.
I
cleared my throat. “There was one Christmas a few years ago, where there was
this crazy Snowpocalypse‒”

He snickered. I smiled. I
didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath.

“What?” I asked with narrowed
eyes. Though I tried to sound serious, I was sure the relief in my voice was
apparent.

He shook his head, “Nothing, I
just think it’s cute that you used ‘Snowpocalypse’ in a real sentence,
especially since we live in the south.”

“Do you want to hear the story
or not?” I asked with a mock scowl.

“Sorry,” he smiled. “Please
continue.”

I sighed and let myself get
lost in the memory, “That year, Lauren and I were supposed to spend Christmas
with my dad, so he came by to pick us up. He lives in New York, but at the time
my mom refused to let us fly alone. Anyway, all the flights were canceled. My
dad did everything he could to get us to New York‒he hates Taraville‒but
of course, none of it worked. So, the four of us ended up spending Christmas
together at my mom’s house, which was something that hadn’t happened in years,
even when they were still together. ”

My mom tried to cook and failed
as usual. So we ordered pizza. And then the power cut out. It snowed all day
and night. We were stuck together for two whole days. It was the only
uninterrupted time I could ever remember having with my parents and…for a long
time it felt like the most precious gift I had ever gotten.”

He didn’t say anything for a
moment. I began to doubt myself. Why had I thought telling that story was a
good idea? Had I been making this about me when he really just wanted someone
to listen? When did I become such a girl?

“Say something,” I hissed. In
that moment, I couldn’t hide my anxiety.

Finally he looked at me, a
small smile on his face. He raised our interlocked hands and brushed my cheek
with the back of his. Then he kissed me. It was soft and short, but he
lingered. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and my forehead and I realized I
didn’t need him to say anything at all.

---

I squinted at the bright afternoon sun,
attempting to readjust to the silent breeze, all of the turbulent noises that
interrupted it, and the people who unknowingly violated the silence and
solitude I’d been growing accustomed to.

“Look who’s brave enough to come outside!
Hey, an inch today maybe a whole foot tomorrow.”

I eased into the sand beside Rachel,
looking back at the porch steps, which were at least a yard away. I had mostly
stopped keeping track of time, but I knew I hadn’t ventured out of the house in
a long while. For a while, the house really had felt like an island, one where
time was suspended and I could pretend that what was true wasn’t. But even I couldn’t
dream forever. And when I’d looked at the date today, I’d realized that I
needed to suspend my wallowing. I knew that what Rachel was suffering through
today was so much worse.

“Thanks for the support,” I rolled my eyes
as I cleaned my sandy hands on one of her legs.

“What? You want to talk about your
feelings?” She asked in a tone that indicated she wouldn’t hear of it even if I
did.

“How’d you know?” I smiled.

“It’s today isn’t it?” I said quietly after
a long pause.

I could see the way her face hardened, her
emotionless expression indicating that she was experiencing a rollercoaster of
them deep down.

“Wait,” I said, knowing that though she was
less than an inch away from me, I’d begun to lose her the moment I’d
acknowledged something both of us knew not to.

“Forget I said anything, I’m sorry,” I
murmured apologetically for what felt like the millionth time these past few
days.

She seemed to relax only the slightest bit,
but I was apparently unable to keep my mouth shut.

“But why do we always pretend? It’s not
like you can ever forget…”
 
This summer
had evidently become the one where no secret was left unexposed, and Ash’s
observation about her fear of water had made it apparent that this one could
not be ignored much longer.

“I could try if you’d shut up,” she said
coldly.

“He was your brother…”
 
I said stupidly, already afraid that I’d said
too much.

“Do you honestly think you know that better
than me?” She snapped back.

Finally, I had no words left, I felt my
‘I’m sorrys’ had grown empty, worthless like the regrets that brought them on.

“Even without a calendar I’d know. I can
feel it, I get dreams about him. Well, nightmares. I haven’t been able to
sleep.”

“I didn’t know…you never told me,” I said
sadly.

“There’s a lot I don’t tell you, Eli. For
good reason,” she replied matter-of-factly.

I wasn’t sure if she’d meant it, or if she
was saying it just to hurt me, but I was surprised that it stung all the same.

“You haven’t been paying attention to
anyone but yourself,” she shrugged. “Probably wouldn’t have told you if you’d
asked.”

The silence was filled by a wave rushing
towards us. It slowed before it reached us, transitioning into a tranquil flow,
but I was suddenly stricken with anxiety as I looked towards Rachel. She inched
her toes towards the water. It barely touched her feet, but I caught the shiver
that made her retreat the slightest bit, though she continued to look straight
ahead.

“Maybe you should talk to someone…your
parents…”

“The mother of all ideas,” she smiled
bitterly.

“I’m worried…” I whispered, aware that I
had always been the one with more words.

“Oh, no more Jessie and now I’m your next
project? Goody for me!”

“Rachel...” I said uselessly.

“You’re worried! Because my behavior is
sooo
concerning! Maybe
I’m
the one who’s suicidal! Yeah, maybe
I’ll go and try to drown myself, cause that would be poetic justice.” She
paused. A mischievous glint came over her eyes, her playful expression
reminding me of those self-destructive rebels that always died in tragedies.

Her smile grew more amused as I became more
panic stricken; I began to think she would jump in right then, just as I
prepared to grab her, she let out a large sigh, “I’m not that noble,” she said,
rolling her eyes “I’m a bitch, remember?”

I waited, attempting to separate her games
from the truths in between.

“…Just trying to get over a stupid fear,”
she mumbled, “It’s pathetic. What, am I going to be afraid of water my whole
life? Do I think something’s going to swallow me up if I jump in there?”

“No,” She murmured, answering her own
question. “Of course not, I’m not an idiot. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“It’s going to take time,” I tried to say
encouragingly.

“It’s been five years! I’ve been here the
whole summer and this is the closest I’ve been to the water, in case you didn’t
notice.”

“You should have said something. You never
talk about it; you act like it never happened. How was I supposed to know? I
thought you were okay.”

“How could I ever be okay again when I
failed so badly at protecting him? He was just a
kid
. A kid that would have been a year older today; he would have
had a million more birthdays to look forward to. He could have been anyone,
done anything and now no one will ever know him because ten fucking minutes was
too long for me to watch my own brother.”