I Heart You, You Haunt Me (3 page)

I Need Mr. Sandman

Sleep doesn’t come.

Night after night

I thrash around

like a fish

caught in a net

trying to escape.

And I cry

for what I’ve done

and who I’ve lost.

Four days after the funeral,

Mom shows me the phone messages

she’s taken for me.

I didn’t want to talk

to anyone.

Jackson’s brother, Daniel, called.

Jessa and Zoe called.

Nick called,

again.

I ball them up

and throw them away.

“You’re tired,” Mom says.

She calls the doctor.

He prescribes Ambien.

“That’s good,” Mom says.

“Sleep will help.”

Will anything
really
help?

When I wake up,

I remember.

It hurts

to remember.

Mom brings me a sandwich

and some juice.

I get up to pee

and sneak another pill.

“I need to sleep a little more,” I tell Mom.

She doesn’t argue.

Because sleep helps.

Company’s Coming

The phone rings.

It rings and rings.

I finally drag

my butt out of bed

and answer it.

“Ava?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to do something?” Cali asks.

“Maybe go to the pool?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna do something else?”

“Not really.”

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“Can I come over?”

“I guess.”

“You need anything?”

But before I can answer, she says, “Never mind.

Stupid question.”

Stupid.

But sweet.

Mirror, Mirror

I’m putting on makeup.

I’ll be like a clown

and no one will see

the real face

behind the mask.

I don’t want Cali to see

the sad me,

the depressed me,

the shamed me.

As I stand in the bathroom,

carefully lining my eyelids

bronze,

I feel a splash

of cool air.

I shiver.

I feel something.

Something behind me.

Something familiar.

Hauntingly familiar.

I glance behind me,

but I don’t see

anything.

Or anyone.

And then,

when I look in the mirror

again,

I see,

for a split second,

not just me,

but someone else.

Jackson.

Food for Thought

Cali’s knocking,

so I turn and run.

As I run down the stairs,

I’m thinking there must be such a thing

as too much sleep.

That wasn’t really him.

It couldn’t have been him.

Could it?

When I open the door,

she gives me her

best girlfriend hug

and I realize

how much I have missed

my Cali.

We go to the kitchen,

plop down at the table.

“Thanks for coming,” I say.

She looks at her watch.

“You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

I get up

and open the pantry door.

I don’t even know

if it’s time for breakfast

or lunch

or dinner.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“11:00.”

I stand there, staring at the boxes

of crackers

and cereal,

trying to focus

on food

and not

on what I just saw

in the mirror.

The cool air

surrounds me again.

I get goose bumps.

I feel him, standing there,

next to me,

like he’s hungry too,

looking for something to eat.

“Did you feel that?” I ask.

“What?” she says.

“Nothing.”

She’ll think I’m crazy.

Maybe she’d be right.

And then,

there’s the slightest hint of

something brushing

my cheek.

Not a touch,

less than a touch.

A whisper.

No, a feeling.

Just a feeling.

Or maybe,

just my imagination.

I shiver again.

Am
I going crazy?

“I think you need to get out,” Cali says.

“Let’s go to the mall.

For some yummy food court food,

and a little shopping, if you want.”

I shrug. “I guess.”

This is good.

I’m a normal girl

going to the mall.

Not
crazy.

Not a girl

who’s beginning to think

she’s being haunted

by her dead

boyfriend.

Okay or Not Okay?

Cali has a green VW bug.

Cute.

Fun.

Perfect.

Like Cali.

I was going to work

so I could buy a car

when I turn sixteen

on August 15th.

Oh well.

All the things that

used to be so important

aren’t important

anymore.

“We haven’t been to the mall together in a long time,” Cali says.

“Yeah.

The last time I was there, Jackson bought me-”

I stop.

I look out the window.

There’s an old man

with an old woman,

sitting on a bench,

waiting for the bus.

He’s looking at a newspaper.

She’s looking at him.

She says something.

He looks at her.

He smiles.

She smiles.

The scene is so simple,

so lovely,

so perfect.

“It’s okay to talk about him,” Cali says.

“I know.”

“What did he buy you?”

I don’t want to say.

But she asked.

“That black-and-pink bikini.

To wear to the School’s Out party.”

She nods.

She remembers.

If she had known

it would bring up

that tragic day,

she wouldn’t have asked.

She shakes her head.

Turns the radio up.

I guess sometimes

it’s not okay

to talk about

him.

Cali

As she fiddles with the radio,

Cali’s blue-and-purple bracelet

twists and slides

on her arm.

The summer

between fifth and sixth grades,

we rode our bikes

to the pool

almost every day.

Then we came home

and made necklaces and bracelets

out of beads.

We loved

sitting

and talking

and making

beautiful jewelry

together.

We sold our creations

to kids in the neighborhood.

My dad called us
little entrepreneurs.

I called us
best friends.

“You still wear the bracelet I made for you,” I say,

thinking how it’s so amazing

she’s kept it

all this time.

“I love it.

Where’s the one I made for you?”

“I lost it.”

“I’ll make you another one,” she says.

“We can buy some beads at the mall.”

That’s Cali.

The one who will do

anything for me.

Thank God for Cali.

Wondering

I shop,

but I don’t buy.

I eat,

but I don’t taste.

Cali talks,

but I don’t listen.

My mind’s drifting,

thinking about him.

Wondering if I’ll feel that cool air,

feel that brush against my cheek,

feel Jackson again,

when I go home.

It couldn’t have been him.

I’m being ridiculous.

Still,

it’s not long before

I want to go home

and find out

for sure.

The Way My Life Changed

I lean my head back

on the car seat

as we drive home.

With my eyes closed,

I search for a memory

that will make me

smile.

And then,

I remember the night

my life changed

forever.

The silver bleachers

filled with kids

in black and red,

cheering the football team

to victory.

It was a warm September night.

The best kind of Friday night.

My favorite kind of high school night.

He was two rows up.

Behind me.

Watching me.

Or so he told me later.

Cali, Jessa, and Zoe

went to get us food.

I stayed

to save our seats.

And that’s when

he made his move.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I’m Jackson.”

“I know.

Everyone knows who you are.”

His cheeks turned

the color of watermelon.

His eyes greener

than the rind.

He was
so
cute,

from the top of his sexy bald head

to the tips of his PacSun shoes.

The way he looked at me

made me quiver

and quake.

It was a good thing

I was sitting down.

My legs wouldn’t have

held me up.

Who Are You?

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

“No. But I’d like to.”

“Ava Bender.”

“Ava,”

he said.

“I like that name.

Ava.”

I
loved
the way

he said my name.

He talked about the game,

and about his old school.

He talked about how moving sucked,

and about being the new kid,

which sucked even more.

I talked about living in the same house

my whole life

with a mom who works a lot

and a dad who travels a lot.

“Tell me something about Ava no one else knows,” he said.

“No one?”

I had to think hard

on that one.

“I really hate being alone,” I finally said.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here.”

That made me smile.

“Now it’s your turn,” I told him.

“I want to go out with you.”

That
made me smile

even more.

I couldn’t say anything

because my friends came back.

Jackson didn’t move.

They squeezed in

on the other side of me.

I introduced them.

They looked at me

like I’d just won

the lottery.

But it was
way
better

than that.

The Other Side

The green bug

backs away.

I wave

and smile

like everything’s fine,

while inside

I’m freaking out

because I don’t know

if he’s waiting for me

on the other side

of that door.

Awake

I move from one room

to the next.

Downstairs.

Upstairs.

I whisper his name.

“Jackson?

How do I find you?”

I go to the bathroom

and stare into the mirror.

I look more awake

than I’ve been

in weeks.

Like a kid

who wakes up
really
early

on Christmas day

and can’t wait

to see what’s under

the tree.

I stand in front of the mirror

for minutes.

Maybe hours.

“Ava, I’m home,” Mom calls from downstairs.

“Are you awake?”

Suddenly,

the air temperature drops,

and this time

there’s no confusion.

Jackson’s face

flashes

next to mine.

I’d say

awake

is an

understatement.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Mom makes spaghetti.

She makes it

because I love it.

And because she’s happy

I’m awake.

“Feeling better?” she asks.

“Yeah.

Cali took me to the mall.”

“Good.

I was starting to worry.”

“Mom, it’s Thursday, right?”

“Yes.”

“Dad comes home tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she says. “Should we go to the beach this weekend?”

No.

NO!

I don’t want to go anywhere.

If Jackson’s here,

I have to stay here.

“Can we just stay home?

Watch some movies?”

She smiles.

“That sounds nice.”

“Thanks for the spaghetti.

It was good.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

It’s nick Again

Nick calls Thursday night,

to express

his concern for me

one more time.

I tell him I’m okay,

and there’s nothing he can do

because I just buried my boyfriend

and of course I’m really not

that

okay.

“I just want you to know I’m here for you, Ava.

If you need me.”

It’s weird.

Does he want a second chance?

Does he want to be the rebound guy?

Or maybe

he is loving

every minute

of my grief

and unhappiness.

Maybe he’s thinking

I had it coming.

And maybe,

just maybe,

I did.

What Did It Mean?

Dare:

a challenge

to do something dangerous

or foolhardy.

I dare you.

Three

stupid

words.

I dared him to order octopus at a restaurant and to eat it
all.

He dared me to write a love letter, sign it Secret Admirer, and

sneak it to a teacher.

I dared him to pretend he was blind in the crystal section of

the department store.

This game,

or whatever it was,

became our little

thing.

Jackson,

the rock climber,

the white-water rafter,

the extreme skier guy,

loved the feel of adrenaline

ROARING

through his veins.

For me,

it was scary,

and exhilarating,

all at the same time.

But I could have lived

without it.

All I needed

was Jackson.

I wish all he’d needed

was me.