Chapter III: An Ode to No One

"Is this the spot?"
"Mmm-hmm"
"Is this your surprise?"
"Not all of it."

I slowly moved to kiss him. I wasn't thinking anymore. All of the health videos, magazines, books, gossip, all of these things that told you how to do everything...complete and utter shit. No one should have had to study how to lean over and kiss someone. We didn't take a class or have cards to study before a test--we just did what came natural.

During school or with others we sounded like we hated each other with our back and forth but, when it came to being alone with one another it was different...our guards were down. Josh didn't have to act like he didn't care about anything and I could feel that someone cared for me.
We usually took turns as to who would be the first to take off their shirts. On that particular day, it was my turn.
"What?"
"Nothing, just seeing how beautiful you look."
"Thank you."
I would usually look away from and try to hide myself from him. I wasn't embarrassed, only shy.
"Come here."
Josh would have to prod me a little to come near him. A pull or two was all it took before I would find us pressed together. I would close my eyes and just stand there with him holding me.
It was the ultimate daydream for me and I just stared into his eyes, lost in the moment.
"I love you Cherry."
"I love you too."
* * *

I looked at the traffic before crossing the street with Becky and Christy. We had to get just far enough away from the school but close enough to be on the lookout for Alex.
“I need to quit smoking,” Becky stated as she took a large drag.
“The best way would be to not start,” I replied.
“Yeah, eh, but too late for that, you know?”

She passed the cigarette and for a millisecond I pondered all of the pamphlets, all the commercials and the signs that "smoking can kill you". I wanted to tell the surgeon general: "You know what? Love can kill you too, asshole. So if you don't mind, maybe I'll accept death at my own hands. Yeah, suicide by cigarettes."
I tried to smoke and failed in an instant coughing fit. I passed it on to Christy.
“By the way, Cherr, when did you start?”
“Today, right now. Don't have any food at my house, so eating my misery away is out.”
“You want me to loan you some?”
“I'll steal some of Alex's.”
“You'll get used to it,” Christy replied as she blew out a small ring of smoke. It wasn't the best...Alex was able to exhale incredible rings...but required the use of a water bong.
“Choking?” I asked as I throat felt like I was ready to vomit my left lung.
“Yeah, that and turning green...goes away after a while.”
“We're all gonna die someday.”
“Yeah, see, now that's the Reardan underachiever mantra; you're getting there, Cherr.”
“Swell.”
We stood across the street from the school, a block away form Josh's house and from Josh, who was walking with Chastille and had his left hand deep in her rear pocket--at least I hoped it was just the pocket.
“Do you know what really pisses me off about all this?” I asked.
"That Chastille has an IQ below the current temperature?" Becky inquired.
"...or that Josh's going for it on the street corner?" Christy mused.
“We used to be friends and now he won't talk to me without spewing a big load of sh-" My soliloquy was interrupted by the start of another coughing fit and the squeal of the brakes of my brother's car.
“Get in, Cherry!”

Alexis barely moved an inch to allow me to climb into the back seat, I had to try and squeeze my way in and dive into the back. I hadn't even sat up and Alexis hadn't closed the door before Alex floored it.
“Where's Wednesday?” I asked as I looked back to Christy and Becky. They had already turned around to head home.
“Ask me if I care,” Alexis answered as she looked at her make-up in the mirror,
“Alex?”
“Paul's taking her home, I guess. I don't fucking know.”
“He's a prick,” Alexis said.
"Paul?
“Who else? It's easy to know what he wants. And you know that he's getting it.”

Alex nodded as he took out another cigarette. “Wednesday's brought up on the love and marriage shit. Happily ever after...oh yeah, like that's gonna ever happen.”

Alexis worked as a cashier at a grocery store in Airway Heights. She hated the work, the customers, and the reliance of her unreliable twin to get to work on time. Her scheduled time was usually at five but on some days they placed it at four. Instead of asking her bosses to change her shift time, she would make it a game for Alex...like a Death Race 2000 to get us from Reardan to Airway Heights in less than thirty minutes with bus traffic the entire stretch of highway two.

I usually took the drive to and from school, or wherever Alex would take us to read a book. I had a small library, made up mostly of books from the school library that I had yet to return: the standard greats of Christopher Pike and VC Andrews. I felt a kind of familiarity with the Dollenganger children...but I had no such feelings toward my brother and Alexis fought with him so much...and she already had a quasi-boyfriend.

Alexis hated to work at the store but she liked her paycheck and she loved a certain person who worked there: Wesley Callaghan. Wes used to go to Reardan before his parents moved to Cheney and while there, he always hung around Alexis.
Alex thought he was gay...since he was always with Alexis and her friends but he never made a move on any of them. Alex even point blank asked Wes what team he was batting for. Wes didn't make a big deal out of it...except that one day when he walked into one of Alexis' classes, stood her up and kissed her in front of the class...including Alex.

After that, Alex hated him...I'm not sure if Alex was attempting to live up to the "Brother code" or he just liked being an obnoxious asshole. The jury was always out on that.

Wes was collecting shopping carts in the lot when we arrived. I never fully understood his position at the store; I just knew that he was the one that was called to do everything else BUT running a register or bagging groceries. He seemed to enjoy it as he was always in a happy mood or maybe that was just a part of his job.
Alex pulled the car up to the first set of doors as Alexis got out and I moved to get into the front seat. Which implied I hadto do it all for myself as Alexis didn't even think to flip the switch so I could move the front seat forward.

"Be here at ten!" Alexis barked at her older sibling.
"Yessum, Miss Daisy."
At least she didn't slam the door in my face as I maneuvered around her.
"Knock it off!"
"I's pick you up at that time, Miss Daisy."
Alexis leaned back in and put her hands on the door, preventing me from closing it.
"Fuck. Off," she whispered in a sweet, low tone as a customer walked past the front of the car.
"Do you kiss Wes with that mouth?"
She moved away and went into the store.
Alex shifted gears and moved the car forward as I rolled the window up.
"That's what people become when they get a job, Cherr."
"What?"
"One becomes a bitch."
I didn't reply, I just went back to reading.

Twenty minutes or so later we arrived at our house that stood on the edge of nowhere or at least to the edge of Wellpinit, Washington. Our house was the last one before driving down a hill and onto the Spokane Indian Reservation. Sometimes it was wonderful to live out in the middle of nowhere: no gossiping neighbors, plenty of room to roam, hills to climb and when the snow fell, it was a blanket of white for miles.
The drawbacks...it was out in the middle of nowhere, no one I knew lived near me, weird characters would drive by at different times of the year...usually during the seasonal pow-wow and when the snow fell hard enough we were stuck inside the house with drifts blocking out the windows.

"Aww fuck...He's here."

I looked up to see Paul's car--a vehicle that was barely holding on--with enough spare parts on it only the steering wheel was original.
Alex got out of the car and ran into the house. I wasn't sure why, not like he ever wanted to talk to Paul and he seldom ever cared to talk to Alex. It was like they were at a Mason-Dixon Line and neither one would talk to each other and unless they had to. Paul sometimes tried to talk to me and I always felt uncomfortable with him...as if he had an idea that if everything went to Hell with Wednesday than he could try something with me.

I walked into the house and surveyed the damage that was to come: There were two additional bodies in the house beyond Alex, Wednesday, Paul and myself: friends of Paul I assumed; as they were mumbling to each other as Paul and Wednesday hovered around the stove.
Alex had left the door wide open-something he would do even in the colder than Hell winter--so, even though there were four other people in the kitchen, I had to close it.

"Hey, Cherr!" Wednesday piped as she stirred something in a frying pan.
“What are you making?” I asking, knowing full well but wanted to hear her reason.
“Uh, nothing really, trying a few things out with some of the steaks.”
“We're not supposed to do anything with those steaks. Mom said-“
“I'll buy some more, you want one or not?”
"No thanks," I replied as the three guys looked at me for a moment.

Paul was older than Wednesday. She was a sophomore and he was a junior who wore his hair long and had more earrings in his ears than I ever owned. His license was usually suspended but that never stopped him from coming out to our house almost every other day to be with Wednesday and eat all of the food in our house before they would leave--leaving the kitchen a mess--and come back at some late hour.

The kitchen lead directly into the living room which had a large couch and a larger TV. Alex planted himself at the end of the couch with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Stupid bitch.”
A part of me wondered who he was referring to: Me, Wednesday, Alexis or mom. I looked to the television to see a lady missing a turn to guess a letter on "Wheel of Fortune".
“It's an easy puzzle. A song title: "Just Around the river bend". Anyone could guess that, you nimrod!”
“You're yelling at the TV, Alex,” I said with a slight sigh.
“Never hurts to vent frustrations. Plus it doesn't yell back.”
“You're frustrated at a pre-recorded game show contestant?”
“No, the fact that I'm not on it.”
“You couldn't win on that anyway!” Wednesday called from the kitchen
“Yeah, uh-huh, sure, Wednesday. Hey, spell: 'A'.”
Wednesday flipped Alex off, but he couldn't see her from his vantage point, Not that he cared anyway. "The bird" was our family pet.

“When's Mom getting home?”
“No clue but it won't be too hard to notice when she gets home though, right?” He pointed to the kitchen, I could only nod in agreement.

I walked to the ladder that lead to the upstairs. Wednesday, Alexis and myself had rooms upstairs while Alex's was on the ground floor, down the hall and across from Mom's room.

The ladder was old and scared me with every climb--as if, one day, it would fall out from under someone...likely me. Mom had plans to replace it with a staircase soon...one day...eventually...perhaps after I move out.

My room was off to the left of the upstairs. It was large enough to place a bed, a small bookshelf and a dresser. No door or walls--just opaque sheets between studs; a wood floor with a simple rug. It wasn't like my friends' rooms...but I never felt jealous about it. I had what was mine--sure, I could say that at times I dreamed of one day owning my own house: designed my own way, maybe in an octagon shape and with an indoor pool on the second floor. It wasn't likely to occur, but a girl could dream.

I dropped my backpack onto the floor and walked over to my dresser, to see the remains of a shattered picture frame that, twenty-four hours ago had a picture of me and Josh that had the words ""Friends, lovers, together eternal" on the back...or at least it did before I ripped the photo out and crumpled it.

I can't say it was all his fault but I can say that he was the one being the petty, low, prepubescent one. I mean we did things that most adults hadn't even tried...sometimes two of three times in a row! I have no idea why I'm saying this except to let you know that I gave myself to him and...a broken frame; broken heart, ashes and fractured memories of times where I'm not sure if he was my friend, my lover or a complete stranger who was using me.

No, I take it all back, it was all his fault. I mean a real man would-Ha, wow, listen to me attempting to label Josh as a real man. Wow, like that was going to ever happen again.

No, the only thing that bothered me was what he would say about me. The private moments, private places, and parts for that matter were all up for sale inside the locker room or wherever boys get together to try and one-up on the other guys and say they did such-and-such with what's-her-name. The only problem I had was that whatever Josh told them, it would be truthful and then everyone would know it and I'd be labelled something even though everything I did was with one person.

Assuming Josh would spill everything. I mean, he was with Chastille and...and I had to wonder how long they had eyes on each other? No one just simply hooks up with someone else the day after breaking up--someone's always waiting in the wings...and so on Monday, when we ditched lunch and fifth period and went to his house for what would be the last...was he thinking about her the whole time?

Was I so blinded by the thought that we were a couple, together, betrothed-ish....made me not think about things? I could rewind the entire year of our relationship and find a quibble or a tear here and there...but was I supposed to look back and see an issue with the entire thing?
Was I being used the whole time and if I was blinded to everything, why didn't Becky or Christy speak up and tell me something was amiss? Was Josh really that fucking good at holding secrets against me and my friends? I wanted to race downstairs and call Josh, but the only phone in the house was in the kitchen and I wasn't about to call him while an audience was around. I would have rather written a missive in blood and sent it to him by raven then have Wednesday, Paul and whoever the hell else was around to hear me talk, yell, or scream. I was definitely not going to cry.

At least not in front of them....it was better to scrunch myself up underneath my blanket, hold onto my pillow and try to not think about how much we talked or how we bared our souls and bodies...I would have taken a shower to feel clean...but that room had memories too.