Elevated (9 page)

Said, “You didn’t either.”

My heart pounded.

Did she know about me and Trav?

Suspect anything?

I felt like the buttons on every dress were watching,

Recording my every move.

The way I blinked too fast,

The way I wouldn’t look up from the floor.

My nervous energy was evident,

Plain for everyone to see.

“I just thought you were too busy.”

My words sounded like half-truths to my own ears,

Even if they were technically true.

“And with the time difference…”

“Next summer, you’ll have to come with me.”

Honesty held a white dress against her body,

Bit her lip.

“You’d love France.”

Just like that,

The months apart melted away.

If she suspected anything was going on between me and Trav,

I wouldn’t be invited to France.

We shopped,

Tried on clothes,

Gossiped,

Sat down in the food court for lunch.

My jumbled thoughts of Travis and Jesse lingered in the back of my mind,

Far from me and Honesty.

“Do you think I should go back and get that dress?”

She licked strawberry yogurt from a plastic spoon,

Locked her eyes on mine.

“The pink one?”

“No, the white one with the flowers along the bottom.

Travis has this thing for flowers.

I could wear it tonight.

Maybe then he’ll finally make it past first base.”

She twirled the spoon,

Didn’t react when I started choking on my Diet Pepsi.

I wasn’t sure if I was more shocked to learn that Trav had a “thing” for flowers,

Or that he and Honesty hadn’t made it past first base.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” I asked,

Examined my soda like carbonation fascinated me,

Glanced at her.

The tiniest of frowns creased her mouth.

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked much since I got back.”

She gazed straight at me with those blue eyes,

So clear,

So trusting.

“I’m super excited for tonight. How’s he been?”

“Fine, I guess. I don’t see him all that much.”

With that lie,

A pure,

Blatant,

Outright lie,

I imagined the weight the words carried.

In my head, I saw her head snap back

With the punch she hadn’t seen coming.

My punch.

Tears filled those lovely eyes,

Blood dripped from her nose,

Ruined the white flowered dress Travis would never see.

“So what about the dress?”

Honesty didn’t think anything was wrong,

At least not with me,

At least not then.

I blinked,

Erased the bleeding image of her,

Cleared my throat.

“Yeah, you should get it.”

I followed her through the mall,

Smiled when I felt like I should,

Oohed and ahhed over the white dress with stitched sunflowers along the hem,

Agreed that Trav wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself,

Said she should definitely wear the push-up bra.

But I couldn’t wait to get away from Honesty.

Because all I could see was her blood coating

Her face,

Her dress,

That bra,

His hands,

With crimson,

Red,

Bleeding,

Weeping,

Smears of guilt.

THE ELEVATOR RELEASES MY SOBS,

Which quieted a while ago.

But Trav still holds me to his chest as if I’m his heart,

And he’ll die without his most vital part.

Funny,
I think.

That’s how I felt about him.

How I still do.

“Do you have a thing for flowers?”

I’ve known him since he moved into the building when he was five.

Our birthdays are four days apart.

He has no idea who his dad is,

And his mom’s worked at least ten jobs over the years,

An off-again, on-again junkie for as long as I can remember.

Our shared bond came because I live in the shadow of the twins,

And he exists in streaks of complete darkness.

He makes my life worth living.

I’m a source of light when he has none.

“Flowers?” he asks,

A slight waver of uncertainty in his tone.

“Yeah,” I sniffle.

“Flowers.

Someone told me you had a thing for flowers.

I didn’t know that about you.”

The unsaid words hover in the air between us.

Trav blinks,

Frowns.

“I, yeah, I guess I like flowers.”

He follows a tear down my cheek with his thumb.

“But you knew that, Elly.

I brought you flowers a bunch of times last summer.”

“But I never thought it was because you liked them. I thought—”

I pause, not really sure what Trav’s flowers meant to me.

I guess I just thought that’s what boys did when they liked a girl.

Because girls like flowers,

Not the other way around.

“I liked the way they made you smile at me with that edge in your eyes.”

“Edge?” I ask.

“The one that said, ‘Thank you, love you, can’t wait to kiss you.’”

Travis settles back onto the floor next to me,

Not touching,

But close enough to kiss.

TRAV SLOWLY SLIDES HIS FINGERS BETWEEN MINE.

“I’m sorry,” he says,

Real soft,

Like he’s afraid loud noises and sudden movements will startle me.

“I made a lot of mistakes with you,

A lot.”

With his free hand,

He gently turns my face until we’re eye to eye.

“But Elly, I don’t regret it.

I wish it had happened differently,

But I’m still glad it happened.”

“Everything?” I ask.

“You’re glad everything happened?”

He gazes at me steadily.

“Every single thing.

I am so in love with you,

And if you’ll let me,

I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to—”

“Prove it,” we say together.

“I’M GOING TO FLORIDA,” JESSE SAID LAST AUGUST,

Flopped onto the couch,

Flipped through the gaming menu on the Xbox.

“Florida?” I asked,

My voice too squeaky.

Trav wasn’t there;

Him mom had taken him for a bonding moment.

“A trip for ice cream can’t buy me,” he’d muttered just before leaving.

But he’d gone,

Just like he’d gone to the mall with her to buy jeans,

Just like they’d gone to the baseball game last week.

Jesse claimed she was trying,

She’d gone to work every day for weeks,

She’d paid the rent, the utilities,

She’d questioned Trav about his upcoming senior year.

Gaming with only Jesse had become natural,

Easy,

The way it was with Trav,

But without the possibility of kissing.

“I don’t want you to go to Florida,” I said.

“I need to get out of here,” he said.

“It’s not healthy.”

I frowned,

Put my controller down so I could study him,

Asked, “Baseball?”

“Baseball,” he said,

Looking at me,

Somehow saying more than that one word.

I wasn’t sure what he meant,

But my heart heard,

I need to get out of here,

Spoken in my own voice.

“Your mom?” I asked,

“When’s she out of rehab?”

“Just after Labor Day,” he said,

“That’s why I have to go soon.

I have to get out of here before

She has a chance to drag me down again.”

I thought of Travis,

The way he snapped to attention when his mother came around,

The way he disappeared inside himself when she left.

I wanted to talk to Jesse,

Ask him if he acted the same with his mom.

I didn’t.

“Let’s game,” he said,

Picked up his controller again.

I punched buttons,

Thought about what he’d said.

I need to get out of here.

At least he had somewhere to go,

A destination with promise,

An activity he loved.

As Jesse’s departure grew closer and closer,

I tried to find something for myself,

Something besides Travis.

I hadn’t been able to,

And when Jesse showed up on the roof that last night,

Alone,

Distraught,

He’d said, “Tell me straight.

Tell me he’s worth it.”

I knew he meant Travis,

But I didn’t know what he had to do with

Jesse leaving.

“Is that why you’re leaving?” I asked.

“I’m leaving because there’s nothing for me here.”

Jesse filled the space next to me,

Radiated friendship,

Safety,

Fear.

“And I don’t think there’s anything here for you either.”

“Travis—”

“Will never leave Chicago,” Jesse said.

“I asked him.”

The sky seemed to spin too fast,

The stars blurred into streaks of light.

Jesse said so many things,

All of them swirling into the night.

There’s nothing in Chicago for you, Elly.

Find something—anything—you can do,

And get out.

I love Trav;

He’s my cousin;

But he’ll never leave this city.

He’ll never leave his mom.

He hugged me hard,

Fierce.

He left me standing on the roof

Without saying good-bye.

I thought I had another chance,

Another morning to see him,

Another moment to hold him close to my heart

So he’d know how much his friendship meant to me,

That I’d never forget this summer with him.

The next morning,

Before the sun rose,

He was gone.

His departure provided me with an example

Of how to get out,

How to move on,

How to grow up and be your own person,

No matter who your mom was,

Or if your dad didn’t know you.

I couldn’t help envisioning Trav doing that,

Leaving,

Moving on,

Moving out.

With me.

“I MISS JESSE,”

I say into the empty space of the elevator.

“Me too,” Trav whispers back.

“I heard he made the minors.”

“I heard that too.”

I heard it from Jesse,

Who texts me sometimes,

When he isn’t busy at practice,

Or work,

Or with his online classes.

I heard it from my mom,

Who found out from Trav’s mom,

Who had been in the hospital last week.

Potential drug overdose.

I want to bring that up,

Want to apologize that I hadn’t been there for him,

Want to talk through everything,

But this silence is too peaceful to shatter.

THE DAY FOLLOWING OUR SHOPPING TRIP

Honesty called,

Screamed,

Sobbed.

The day following our shopping trip

Travis broke up with her;

She refused to come to my building;

I walked to hers.

The day following our shopping trip

I took a roll of paper towels,

A box of ice cream sandwiches,

My best consoling voice.

Inside, I rejoiced,

Sang praises to the sky,

Couldn’t wait to get back to the roof.

“He didn’t even l—look at the dr—dress,” Honesty said,

Tears pouring down her face,

Hair spilling out of its ponytail,

Hiccups echoing against the words.

“Did he say why?” I asked,

Though I already knew.

If Trav had told her about us,

She wouldn’t have called crying.

She’d have called screaming,

Ranting,

Cursing.

Or she wouldn’t have called at all.

Honesty shook her head,

Settled on her bed facedown,

Cried for hours.

When her parents got home,

I escaped.

I went straight to Trav’s,

But heard the shouting before I knocked.

I couldn’t make out the words,

Couldn’t tell if Trav was angry or just frustrated,

Couldn’t tell if his mom was wasted or not.

Before I could leave,