She knew if they were having a good day or not,
Just by looking.
I wondered what she saw when she looked at me.
Could she tell I’d changed after Travis kissed me?
She didn’t act like she could.
She sighed over Mrs. Hostettler,
Parked herself in front of the TV,
Patted the cushion for me to join her,
Fell asleep ten minutes later.
I turned the volume down low,
Watched reruns until it was time to put the twins to bed,
Snuck the phone into my room at midnight,
Whispered with Trav.
Mom,
Who could see every little change in her patients,
Slept on.
MAYBE MOM DID NOTICE.
She made me change if my shorts were too short,
Or my makeup too dark.
Working on the day shift,
She made dinner,
Checked backpacks,
Made sure we all bathed.
She questioned me about my grades,
My extra-curricular activities,
My job,
My boyfriend.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said,
Twirling the spaghetti around my fork,
Hoping she’d let it go.
“You snuck to the roof to meet him,” Mom said.
“What do you call him?”
“He’s…” I couldn’t finish.
I didn’t know what Travis was.
She squeezed my hand,
Like she knew the inner turmoil I felt
At not having a proper label for Travis.
She let the subject drop,
Bit her garlic bread,
Asked the twins about music class.
I caught her watching me during dinner,
Knew she saw the intake of breath when the phone rang,
The twitch of my hands when Trav left a message,
When I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply at the simple sound of his voice.
NOW THAT SAME VOICE FILLS THE ELEVATOR
With pleading,
With hurt,
With anger.
He must be so,
So angry.
I hear it in the silence,
See it in the accusation in his eyes,
Feel it in the way his breathing steadies without the pressure of my hand against his.
He’s found a way to exist without me,
Because I pushed him away,
Stopped answering his calls,
Refused to speak to him.
He’s found a way to exist without me,
Though he doesn’t fully understand why I’ve cut him off,
Why I avoid this elevator.
I hardly understand the things I’ve done.
He’s found a way to exist without me.
I wish I could say the same.
But I’m still trying to figure out how to survive one more class,
One more minute,
One more breath,
Without him.
California keeps me sane,
A promise of something new,
An escape from the past.
“I don’t want you to go.”
Trav packs the hurt into six words
The way my dad packed his concern into the Skype conversation.
“Sometimes we don’t get what we want.”
My words crowd the elevator,
Sting me as much as him.
Because I know their truth better than anyone.
After all, I’d had to see my father wearing his captain’s bars,
Had to tell him I wasn’t being responsible,
Helpful,
Brave.
Had to hear him say,
“Best friends with benefits.”
I’D NEVER BEEN ABLE TO LOOK AT DADDY
For more than fifteen seconds before my secrets spilled out.
During the Skype chat he said, “Elly,”
And the empty spaces in my heart tore,
Tears formed in my eyes,
Guilt cascaded through my stomach.
“Hey, Daddy.”
He wore his brown camouflage,
His hair cropped short,
A smile.
I grinned at his image on the computer,
But it felt useless,
Useless,
Useless.
“You been bein’ good, Honeybee?”
“No, sir.”
The words just came out.
The tears weren’t far behind.
His eyebrows creased.
“Well, what’s been goin’ on?”
I blinked,
Tears ran in paths down my cheeks.
“I kissed Travis.”
My voice sounded tiny,
Childlike.
“Travis on the fourteenth floor?
Travis?”
I nodded,
Noted the surprise in his voice,
Burst into words.
“I like him, Daddy. And well, I’m not supposed to and I snuck out to meet him and I think he still has a girlfriend and Mom’s freaking out over nothing and I can’t do anything without her watching me breathe.”
I inhaled as if it were the first time in weeks,
My chest shuddering with the effort.
Dad let a few seconds pass in silence,
Leaned forward,
Looked straight into the camera
Half a world away.
“Elly, you listen real good.
Your Mama’s just tryin’ to protect you.”
I wished I could be the girl
Who told her mom everything,
Who went on girls’ shopping trips,
Had spa days,
Got along.
I wished I could fight with my dad instead of her.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So you look at me.
You tell me what I should be worried about.”
I swiped at my tears,
Looked at him,
Really looked.
“Nothing, Dad. Really.
Just a little kissing, I swear.”
He leaned back,
Wore a hint of disapproval around his mouth,
Folded his arms.
“Well, what does a little kissin’ lead to, Eleanor?”
I dropped my gaze to my hands,
Wilted under the use of my full name.
“A lot of kissing, sir.”
“Exactly. And that’s why your Mom’s worried.”
“Are you worried?”
“About you, Elly?
Always and forever.”
ALWAYS AND FOREVER
Is a big, fat lie.
Boys can tell you they love you
“Always and forever,”
When they don’t.
Just for that kiss,
That favor.
Best friends can claim it’s
“Forever,”
When really it’s just until they grow tired of putting up with you.
Parents can toss “always and forever” around
Like they mean it,
When really, they can’t guarantee anything.
I’d told Travis “always and forever” once,
And look at us now.
Caged in this elevator,
Secrets thick as cement,
Silence suffocating us both.
IN THREE WEEKS, I’LL BE LEAVING,
Forging a new path where no one knows me,
Where no one whispers about me,
Where I don’t have to eat lunch in the drama wing
Just so I won’t have to see Travis,
Won’t have to hear my dad’s voice claim
“Best friends with benefits.”
“IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, DAD,”
I’d said, fear clamping its iron grip around my heart.
“Well, has he taken you out on a
date?” Dad asked,
Voice too low,
Eyebrows too high.
“Sir?”
“A date, Elly. Seems to me if the boy wanted
To be your boyfriend, he’d take you out on a date.
Otherwise…”
I CUT OFF THE MEMORY THERE,
Unwilling to hear Dad say the dirty words in my mind,
But they echo in my ears anyway.
Best friend with benefits.
He should be takin’ you out on dates before kissin’ you, Elly.
No more kissin’ unless it’s after a date, got it?
The thought of a real date with Travis had made my hands shake,
My head light,
My lips tingle.
Keep your lips to yourself for a while.
Back in my room, I’d hidden beside my bed,
Watched the shadows deepen across the carpet.
Couldn’t believe I’d just told Daddy about kissing Trav.
Couldn’t believe what he’d said about Trav.
What hurt the most: Daddy was right.
Mom never came to get me for dinner,
And I played “Tell him or Tell him not.”
The game decided:
Tell him.
I couldn’t kiss Travis unless he took me out on a date.
THE CORNER OF THE ELEVATOR
Traps my thoughts,
Circles them back to me,
A loop I can’t escape.
“Hey, come back over here.”
Travis’s words are thick with emotion.
“You should’ve broken up with her before she left for the summer,” I say,
Wishing I could leave Honesty out of the conversation,
Wishing everything didn’t come back to her,
Wishing I’d been as brave as Daddy had asked me to be.
“I know that. You have no idea how much I know that.”
I look at him,
Find him examining his hands,
Find the pea pod salad resting near his feet.
“Then why didn’t you?”
He exhales,
His body collapses as if he’s lost his bones along with the air inside his lungs.
“I tried so many times.”
He meets my gaze through the dim light,
Rubs his hands together as if cold.
“There never seemed to be a good time, you know?”
Laughter bubbles out of my throat,
The sound hollow,
Empty.
“Right. Never a good time.
But New Year’s was a good time?
You and Honesty had been broken up for months by then.”
“There never would’ve been a good time to tell her about us. But I figured—”
He stops suddenly,
Looks straight at me in that needful way of his,
Like he can see through my skin,
Under my muscles,
Straight to my soul.
“I figured you couldn’t wait anymore.”
Acknowledge when someone does something for you.
Dr. Tickson’s voice booms in my head.
Recognize when you’re not alone.
Dr. Tickson never understood that I wanted to be alone,
That I didn’t want to explain why I needed to eenie-meenie every decision,
That I locked my words deep inside on purpose.
But here’s Travis gazing at me with those love-sick eyes,
A face full of pain
Hurt
Love
Anger
Frustration
Sorrow
Hope.
His eyes plead with me to trust him enough to let him see the pieces inside.
“Please, Elly,” he begs. “Talk to me.”
I SWALLOW,
Determined to clamp my mouth shut
So he’ll never know what real hurt is,
So he’ll never have to think of me badly,
So he’ll never know everything.
Instead, “You used me,” comes out,
Raw and alien.
“I know. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You said I wasn’t your best friend with benefits.”
“I—”
But I’m on a roll,
The dam of accusations breaking,
Flooding out of my mouth before I can edit them.
“You said you loved me.
That you’d break up with her.
You’d tell her everything when she came home.
That you wouldn’t blame me,
That you’d shoulder it all.”
Fat, hot tears stream down my face.
My voice cracks,
My throat aches,
My stomach threatens to empty its contents.
I look at him,
See him clearly for the first time,
Stand up so I’m more powerful that he is.
“You said you were sorry,
Over and over and over.
You said everything would be fine,
You said we could tell her we’d started dating after she calmed down,
And I was stupid enough to believe you.”
I ball my fists,
Let the anger course through me,
Slump against the wall and slide down it.
He kneels in front of me,
Takes me by the shoulders.
“I know, I know,
I knowIknowIknowIknowIknow.”
But he’s not angry,
He’s not trying to make anything better,
He just knows.
The tether between us is still there,
Torn in two ragged pieces.
MY BODY HEAVES WITH SOBS,
The words I want to scream at him barely more than hiccups.
He holds me tight in his strong arms,
The way he has before, once,
The way I’ve needed him to again—and he didn’t—
But this time it’s different.
This time,
He can’t make it all better with his brilliant smile,
His throaty voice,
A kiss,
A promise of always and forever.
I see him differently now.
I see him with clear edges,
Faults.
I blame him for so many things,
Too many things,
Some things I have no right to blame him for.
With Travis and me, there are very few comforts left.
HONESTY WENT TO EUROPE FOR THE SUMMER,
Left me and Travis alone,
Left me a pre-paid cell phone because my mom still wouldn’t let me have my own.
The day after she returned to Chicago,
I met her at the mall,
Both of us having arrived on separate buses.
Mom couldn’t drive me because she had to take the twins to their karate match,
And Travis didn’t come anywhere near us when we went shopping.
Honesty pulled me toward Macy’s,
Asked, “So how was your summer?”
Going right for the jugular whether she knew it or not.
“Just fine,” I answered,
Tried to keep my voice as dull as possible.
How could I tell her about the past two months without mentioning Travis?
About the way we sometimes took a blanket to the roof,
Watched the clouds drift over the city?
Or listening to him whisper in our midnight phone calls,
Hearing the pain in his voice,
The way it wavered when his mom didn’t come home over the Fourth of July.
I couldn’t say those things.
So I talked about the dozens of hours I spent playing video games,
Laughing with Jesse,
Working at the Cineplex,
Making dinner,
Cleaning Trav’s apartment.
Safe things,
Things she already k
new.
How could I tell Honesty about driving to the beaches of Lake Michigan
With the windows down,
The radio loud,
Trav’s hand resting on my thigh?
I certainly couldn’t tell her about the make-out session that followed.
How could I tell her that I’d become the person both Trav and Jesse needed?
That they called me in their lowest moments?
That the three of us started moonlighting on the roof in sunglasses?
How could I tell her how Trav and I worked the same shift at the Cineplex,
Took our breaks together,
Snuck into the late showings,
Giggled and held hands through the previews?
How could she understand the holes he filled in me,
The dams I plugged for him,
The way he’d ask about my dad,
The way I filled his apartment when his mom didn’t come home?
I couldn’t,
Wouldn’t,
Didn’t.
LAST SUMMER HELD SO MANY WORDS,
So many things I didn’t say,
Trav didn’t say.
Jesse did, though.
He seemed to be the only one
Who could.
I interrupted them once after work.
I just wanted to check in on them,