I nod toward him, confirming that I heard his words, but I don’t say anything back. I haven’t said those words in five years…to anyone. Even though I love Mr. C as if he was my father, he’ll never hear me say those words. Every time I’ve ever spoken them to someone, they’ve left me.
Mr. C walks out the door one way, and I head off in the direction of the reception area, shaking my head. You would think someone who has had his heart ripped out and stomped on would have a different perspective on love.
I know the path through the winding one-way roads like the back of my hand. Before I turned sixteen and got my license, Brady and I would ride our bikes up here. We would always stop by the convenient store and pick up sodas, candy, and a bouquet of flowers. Brady would sit under the large maple tree that rested by the road, and I would go talk to my mom. He knew I wanted the space, but also made sure he was only a few steps away in case I needed him. A twinge of sadness hits me when I think about the first time I came here alone.
After my dad left, Brady never looked at me the same and I didn’t blame him. That first time, I cried on my mother’s tombstone for half the day, only leaving when the groundskeeper told me that I had to go because they were closing the cemetery. When I grabbed my bike that was resting against the tree, I remember feeling lost and alone with nowhere to go. It was the first time I realized that I had no one. No family, no friends, but most of all, no one to love and no one that loved me.
The grey tombstone is more noticeable than the others with its large, heart-shaped form. ‘Mindy Sue Bishop’ is engraved on it, along with the words ‘loving wife and mother’. I remember the day my dad picked it out like it was yesterday. I sat in the adjacent room, brewing with hatred for her, as he talked with the funeral director about options and expenses. How could she leave me? Why did this happen to my family? These questions and others, all of which were borne out of grief, traveled through my mind for the entire first year after her death.
When I found her first letter on my bed the day we buried her, I wept while reading it.
My Dearest Grant,
I imagine this was a hard day for you. Please remember, I am with you…always. When you miss me, talk to me. I will be listening, no matter the time of day. I live within you now, son. Put your hand over your heart and you will find that mine now beats with yours.
I love you, Grant. I lived my life for you, something you will understand someday when you have your own children. You and your dad take care of each other and be thankful that you have one another to love.
Talk to you soon.
Love,
Mom
XOXO
I read that letter over and over again that night. By midnight, the anger swept over me again and I ripped it to shreds, tossing the small pieces into the toilet and flushing it before collapsing on the cold tile floor in a panic, desperately trying to get it back. For years I regretted that day, but I was thankful that I had embedded the words into my head.
I brush off the snow that has accumulated in the crevice of the heart and place the flowers that I picked up from the florist down on the ground.
“Hi, Mom.” I know I don’t have to come here to talk to her, but this is where I feel the closest to her. “I got your letter at Christmas. Thank you. They’re ending soon, you know. I only have five or so left. I saw Mr. C today and he’s doing better. Oh, and my classes have started off okay.”
Suddenly, I have the urge to tell her who has been on mind. It couldn’t possibly hurt, I tell myself. “I met someone, Mom. Her name is Jessa Harrison and she’s from Colorado. She’s a senior, too. There’s something about her I can’t shake. Like a part of me wants to save her, but she’s independent, Mom. She doesn’t need my help with anything. She’s tough and strong-willed. I’ve never met anyone like her before. Not that it matters because she’s got a boyfriend. So I guess it’s a moot point. I just wish I could stop thinking about her. She consumes my whole day, either frustrating me to bench press my weight or causing me to wake up smiling from the most amazing dream of her. I think she likes me, too, but she loves her boyfriend. And I refuse to put myself out there, only to get my heart broken, or worse, break hers. Just a few months and I’ll be onto my real life anyways, but she does make me second guess my whole life plan.” I finish speaking and pick up some bare tree branches around the headstone. Kissing my fingers, I place it on the grey stone. “Bye, Mom, talk to you soon.”
Jessa
“Come on, it will be fun,” Rob tells me, leading me into the nightclub. I still haven’t figured out why he’s brought us all here. Usually we hang out at the bars rather than hit the dance club scene. Since he somehow swindled us in with only a shared look between him and the overly muscular bouncer, I think it’s safe to assume that he’s been here before. I can’t help but wonder when and why, since he’s always made his dislike of the people that hang out at places like this clear.
The music blares when we enter. It’s not the usual live music we are used to, but instead is a fast techno beat meant for dancing. I spot the DJ in the back corner with his headphones hanging off one ear, talking to someone down below. It makes me think of my time in Boulder; it seemed like I was always up there requesting something.
Rob shuttles us over to the bar through the throngs of people. By the time we get there, Rob is the only one who can get the bartender’s attention. After he gives the cute brunette our orders, he points out a circular table top that’s open in the far corner. Trey stays behind with Rob while the rest of us make our way to the now vacant table.
It’s funny how catchy the music still is to me. My body feels like it could start moving at any moment, but I stay still in my seat. Dex, aka “Hulk”, pulls out the stool for me and I sit down next to Sadie. We all silently check out our surroundings, which for the guys in our group means gawking at all of the barely-dressed girls who are rubbing their asses into guys’ crotches.
“Let’s go dance,” Rob whispers in my ear.
“I’d rather not,” I say and he takes my hand and pulls me from the chair.
“Do it anyway, it’ll be fun,” he tells me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
He winds me through the groups of people to the large dance floor by the DJ booth. Things between us have continued to be strained and forced recently. I know I haven’t been giving Rob my full attention because I can’t seem to stop these feelings for Grant, even though he has kept his distance from me like he said he would. Even in class he doesn’t sit next to me, but remains a few rows back. As much as I wish things were different, they’re not. Grant has set goals for himself and things he wants to achieve. If my past was to ever come out, it would kill those chances and I won’t do that to him.
By the time we get to the dance floor, we are packed in like sardines, barely able to move, let alone dance. Rob places his hands on my hips and tugs me to him while placing his leg between mine. This whole dirty dancing thing is throwing me for a loop. What exactly are we doing here and dancing like this? I stare up at him with confusion and he gives me a cat-that-ate-the-canary look before pointing to the corner.
I stop dancing and turn my body around but Rob grabs me again and brings me against his crotch. Trying to search where he was looking, my eyes scan the crowd but I don’t see anything except a sea of drunken people making out with each other.
“Right there, Jessa,” he whispers in my ear and I follow his finger. My stomach drops when my eyes find Grant pressing some girl against the wall. He has her cornered while his lips devours her neck and his hands hike up her dress.