Authors: Janice Hadden
After
school, I went straight home. The dreariness of the sky and the
return of the cold bite of the winter, made me just want to crawl
back in bed in my pajamas and cocoon myself away from my misery. But
as soon as I got home, I knew I couldn’t take that leisure. I
had so much work to do.
As
soon as I changed into my pajamas and turned my computer on, the sky
started tearing hard, weeping through the pane. I clicked on my
e-mails and it blinked to twenty five new messages—fifteen,
were store and ad e-mails, the other two looked suspicious, so I
deleted them.
I
opened Cash’s e-mail first. My friendship with him always made
me so grateful—grateful of the fact that he was a constant in
my life. I needed that. From the corner of my vision, Tristan’s
drawings caught my eye in the computer desk. His words popped in my
head…‘I can’t be with you…’
What
does that mean?
‘
I
always wanted to take you out.’
I
wasn’t the one chasing him around, so why does he feel the need
to tell me that. Why did he even bother giving me these?
I lifted the
several sketches, but couldn’t seem to find the courage to toss
them in the trash, rip it into pieces or hide it somewhere. I placed
it back on top of the desk and sighed.
I
can’t believe I let him mess with my head
.
I stared at my computer. Cash‘s e-mail blinked in front of me.
I clicked it open.
Hi
Sweetheart,
I
hope you're feeling better. I was so glad to see you. I promise I
will visit you soon. I miss you tons. Call me.
Please
always be careful!
Cash
I
missed Cash, too. Even though, up to this point, there was not a
week, where he didn’t e-mail, text or call me. I just love that
we’re still friends. The rest of my e-mails were notifications
from
my
friends book page.
Jen
had posted several photos of us from the recent California trip. Sam
also posted pictures of her and Al. I browsed
through
them, made comments on each box which appeared at the bottom of our
group photos.
I
clicked the sign out button and turned my computer off. I grabbed my
bag and took out my history book. Sitting on my computer desk, I
checked the time and it blinked to six o‘clock. I decided to
grab dinner. Coming down the stairs, I realized that Steve wasn’t
home yet. I quickly grabbed the concoctions to make two turkey
sandwiches—one for each of us. I also made salad with Sesame
dressing. I grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper, poured it into a glass and
filled it with crushed ice.
The
door creaked open. Steve.
“
Hey,
Dad…I made you a sandwich.”
“
Thanks.”
He walked to the sink, washed his hands and grabbed an ice cold beer
in the fridge. We talked about my day, the new employee that just got
hired, his day at work and the weather.
After
I cleared everything, I quickly went upstairs and continued studying.
But soon, I was cold enough to need something to keep me warm. Steve
and I seem to have different body temperatures, and I’m
normally cold below seventy degrees. I grabbed a fuchsia sweater from
my drawer and slipped myself easily into it, feeling the soft fuzzy
fabric, cuddle me warm.
After
another hour of worthless concentration on the book I was reading, I
decided to start on my English paper. I grabbed several pieces of
lined paper from my stack. Instead of writing my rough draft directly
on the word document, I sat down in bed and jotted down ideas for my
paper.
Half
an hour into my writing, my thoughts were intercepted by the buzzing
sound on my nightstand. It was a text from Lauren, a girl in my
history class. I texted her back…chap.1-5 will be on the test
as well as the notes. I hit send. I went back to my writing and after
another twenty minutes, I finally made enough progress. I was pleased
with the rough draft enough to start typing. The paper wasn’t
due until next week, but I wanted to make sure that I gave myself a
good start. After typing a whole page, I decided to gave it a rest
and leave the editing for another day. It had been a very long day
and I was beginning to feel an onset of a headache.
It
was after ten, but still, I felt restless
.
I couldn’t
find a way to fall asleep. I decided to turn the T.V. on. I hardly
watch anything anymore. Clicking the remote, I skipped all the news
report until I found one that highlighted the weather and lingered to
see how the week was going to be
.
Chilly—
no
surprise there.
I
flipped the channel again to look for something even remotely
interesting. Comedy shows were on which meant, it must be very late.
I decided to keep the sound low of murmured voices from my television
set until I fell asleep. I think it was about after one, when I lost
consciousness.
I
woke up with a heavy heart. It would seem that I had another
nightmare, most often, I didn't care anymore. The reason I knew was
because my eyes were still rundown by streaks of tears and my pillow
dampened by the moisture that had pooled. Looking out to the slit
outside the window, I realized the dreary weather shared how I felt
today.
As
the day progressed, the hours passed with agonizing minutes. Driving
home from school, I passed several small boutiques and coffee shops
and decided to park and stroll down for a while, hoping the happy
memories would cheer me up. I had walked these paths many times
before, but today felt different. It had been a relatively busy
afternoon with a good number of people bustling the narrow walkway. I
felt oddly lonely walking the familiar street; I was feeling somehow
lost and alone among the crowd.
As
the last sliver of light pushed their final goodbyes, I was left with
nothing but the
darkness
I felt. I came home to the usual quietness and parked the car
absentmindedly and apparently changed into my pajamas without
remembering the task.
Cuddling
in the warmth of my blanket, the silence made me realize that it was
way too early for bed. Steve wasn’t even home yet and I
suddenly felt glad that I had plenty of time to catch up on missed
chores. I collected half of my dirty clothes from the hamper and
tossed them in the washer. I vacuumed my room, the hallway, and
Steve’s room. I concentrated most of the work in the bathroom,
disinfecting and rearranging all the items in the drawers. I went
downstairs to prepare a quick dinner. All the while, still feeling
the ache in my heart tearing at me. I tried to control my emotions,
knowing that wallowing enough in it will lead me to nothing but more
heart aches, and I didn’t want to feel worse than I already do.
After
I ate, I went to my room and pulled my history book again. But
despite my effort of concentration, I was unable to focus on
retaining any information. After half an hour into another worthless
reading, I heard a knock on my bedroom door a few seconds before my
consciousness understood it. I slid myself on the side of the bed and
planted my feet on the floor and yanked the door open.
“
Hey...dad,”
my voice sounded sad—sadder than I have ever heard it in a long
time. I knew Steve would caught on. Steve had always been good at
detecting my mood and usually, I try to make great effort not to
burden him with any of my problems. But today, I didn‘t care.
“
You
seem upset,” he questioned.
“
I
just had a bad day…and a little tired.” I scratched my
head, hoping it will disguise my pain.
“
Do
you want to talk about it?”
“
Not
really,” I admitted.
“
Okay…thanks
for dinner.” Steve left me alone and headed downstairs. Steve
and I never had a talk when it came to boy problems. Even when Cash
and I broke up, I didn‘t really dwell on it too much. It was
hard for me to let go of my best friend but it wasn’t like we
wouldn’t be speaking to each other. But this time, it was
harder than I imagined. I wasn‘t sure when I have allowed
myself to care deeply enough to be this upset…I mean, I really
didn‘t even know Tristan that long. I wasn‘t even really
dating him, but yet for some unfathomable reason, the thought of his
absence in my life, felt so much harder than logic can justify—and
everyday seemed harder than the day before.
I
sat on my desk. I have been in my computer for an hour. I
straightened and finally got up, trying to get the flow of blood back
into my lower limbs. I decided to turn it off and read a non academic
book instead. I wanted to escape my world, even for a little while.
After five chapters of reading, I bookmarked it and placed it on my
nightstand.
Lying
down, I scanned my room, trying to divert my emotions—my lids
feeling heavy now, but my thoughts still racing. The phone rang and
was somehow glad at the distraction. It was Becca. I picked it up
immediately. “Hey, Kat. Do you want to come to
Club
Sunset
?”
her words floated in my head for a brief moment. I knew I didn’t
feel like going out. I didn’t feel like doing anything,
period—besides staying in bed. But going out is exactly what I
needed. I needed to get out of this mood that I trapped myself into,
take a break and maybe have a little fun to direct my misguided
emotions. I suddenly felt a trace of excitement descending upon me.
There was something thrilling about deciding to do something
unplanned last minute—so on a whim of the moment, I decided to
take Becca on her offer.
“
Okay,”
I blurted, sounding excited more than I felt. Though, I was really
glad she called.
“
I
can pick you up if you want?” she suggested.
“
Yeah,
that’s a good idea.” I was glad she offered. I didn’t
feel like driving.
“
Great!
I’ll pick you up at 10:30.” After I hung up the phone, I
quickly threw on something from my closet. I wasn’t sure if my
outfit coordinated, but I didn’t bother thinking about it for
too long. I was already overwhelmed by the jumbled mismatch in my
head to worry about fashion coordination. Becca was at my house half
an hour later.
My
drab ensemble seemed to look whitewashed, next to her mini dress,
red-hot-fitted-but-flattering-on-all-the-right-places outfit, paired
with black high heels. She looked great. Her hair pinned to the sides
in large wavy curls. I felt a trace of regret for not putting any
effort into what I was wearing, but decided it was too late to put on
something different.
After
she assessed me, her face slightly wrinkled into a frown, but seemed
to have processed my dull mood, and looked like she withheld a
negative comment. I decided to take advantage of that and grabbed my
purse before she could volunteer to do a make-over on me like she had
done in the past.
As
we stepped out of the house and into the moonless night, I hopped in
Becca’s car still feeling the heavy ache in my heart. The
melodramatic,
ooey-gooey
love song was sickening in the
background. A sudden flow of traffic sandwiched us and my mind
drifted away.
“
Katheryna…we’re
here!” Becca was out of the car and was leaning inside to see
what was holding me. I hoped I wasn’t too rude. Becca is a
chatter and I’d bet she’d told me a whole novel on the
way here. After Becca and I handed our
‘
I.D.’s’
to a tall and very
intimidating bouncer, which happened to be, Jeremy’s cousin, we
proceeded to the dark, narrow hallway that led us to the location of
the flickering lights and ear popping noise.
As
soon as we entered the room, a fog of nausea crowded my vision and my
stomach twisted, like my whole dinner was being stirred inside me. I
felt a little light headed and quickly tried to find the closest,
open seat. As soon as I spotted an empty bar stool, I waded my hands
to get to it. Becca followed me, a little worried.
“
Are
you okay?…you look pale.” She sat next to me and
anchored her arms around my shoulders. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
I had managed to pull out a smile. She shrugged her shoulders. “If
you need to go home. We‘ll go. I’ll call Jeremy and tell
him you got sick.”
“
No…no…let’s
stay… It‘ll pass,” I assured her.
“
Hello,
ladies…what would It be?” A friendly bartender wearing a
black vest and
black
eye liner came over. He gave us the biggest smile.
“
Cherry
coke,” I quickly said, turning halfway to look at Becca,
reassuring her that I was feeling much better—and I did feel
better.
“
I’ll
have the same…for now,” she smirked as she emphasized
the last words. “Sure…coming up.” It didn’t
take long
before
two glasses appeared in front of us.