Getting Dark Again

I debated about it for fifteen seconds.
It was on a Thursday late in the spring when Sam called me out of the blue. I mean we were friendly with each other in Sunday School, granted there were usually only eight people in the class and everyone knew our history but no one ever mentioned it and it didn’t sit on the table as the elephant in the room.
However, there were times when Sam or Keri would talk about some guy they spoke with at wherever it was they went to that week. Since I wasn’t an active part of her life it wasn’t like I was going to listen to everything she said or try to make small talk with her when I got the chance. In actuality, I found myself closeting my emotions when I was around her because I didn’t want to look like I still thought about her; when I did. I also didn’t want to look like I was too indifferent, so I had to find the “meh” area and for some reason decided to stay there.
So, when Sam called, I was surprised. I was even more surprised when she told me the story of how Keri was asked to go to a movie by a guy named Derek who she had met at Winter Camp and he wanted to take her to a movie. I said that I vaguely remembered him and Sam stated that Keri’s father would not allow her to go with Derek alone and so Keri suggested Sam call me so we could all meet and go together.
I agreed. It wasn’t a hard and fast “yes”, but I didn’t hem or haw about it or put in a “gee, I don’t know,” I just said yes and so at six-thirty that Saturday evening I met up with Derek, Keri and Sam. I thought of three things at that moment:
I didn’t like Derek, because when I saw his face I remembered his belligerent and juvenile attitude.
I wanted to run back to the parking lot, before my parent’s SUV had turned around, get in, and go back home.
I felt moved to walk up to the step below where Sam stood and lower myself to one knee and tell her how stupid, insensitive, and childish I had been for not asking her to help me, to let her in as I was scared at what she would find within my shamed soul. I would nit dare to look up at her and beg for her forgiveness in a manner no one had seen since Shakespeare.
But, instead, I waved to the group and we went into the theatre. Keri and Derek sat in seats in front us as we were to keep an eye on them. I had bought a popcorn to share along with some M&M’s and two cokes. Sam had stated that while it could be termed a “double-date” it’s was more like “Dereksitting”, still, I thought it would be a nice gesture.
The movie was “Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey”, a movie I had already seen but lied when asked if I had, as to make them feel that I would be keeping my eyes on them like an over-protective dad. I did think that the idea of going to a darkened place with my former girlfriend was not a good idea, too many misinterpreted signs; touching hands in the popcorn; whispering back and forth about the movie; or seeing small glances of the other person out of the corner of your eye and wondering how you ever let them go.
Three fourths into the movie, at a time where I thought I would have had a list of broken parental taboos to report back to Keri’s dad I felt a nudging to my left and Sam placed two M&M’s in my hand. I’m not sure why I looked at them but I did: they were red and green.
I looked at Sam at the same time a bright explosion occurred on the screen when she grabbed my arm and place it around her shoulder. I stared at her in awestruck wonder for a second. I did what I had to to: popped the M&M’s into my mouth and then took her hand.
I never thought if it was a bad idea at the time.

At lunch I ran up to the junior high but I admit, I had no idea where to find her and I also felt that there was something wrong with me. Yes, there was an age gap between us and the dark thoughts that I was too old rose up and I stopped short of opening the door.
“Maybe this is all wrong.” I whispered to myself. “It’s a crush thing. But who has the crush? Me or her?”
I turned away from the door and walked back to the high school in defeat.
Who was I kidding? It would never work out between the two of us. We went to different schools, our ages, we didn’t even know if we had anything in common.
In common,. I thought. Yeah, we had a lot in common. We both felt lost. We both felt like outsiders to our classmates and friends. She probably had more, but it was possible she felt that way sometimes. We both liked writing poetry that wasn’t about puppies and unicorns in “Lisa Frank” hues.
I opened the door into the high school and felt the same soul-crushing sense that affected me on Monday morning and for some reason I wanted Paul to show up and knock the crap out of me because I felt I had nothing left to live for. It was like when Sam left for the second time compounded by the first, times the memories of the movie theatre and every other missed chance that happened in my life.
I felt like breaking down at that moment, completely falling to my knees in self-imposed heartbreak over something I didn’t know would even occur but I seldom ever had things go the way I wanted them to so this would probably end in a similar way. Maybe at a train station instead of the airport.

And like earlier that week, my eyes tracked the various couples. It wasn’t our fault there was a slight difference in our schools. Our ages were within two years if anyone really asked. It wasn’t like I was in college or something. Jason’s words ripped through my head like a bullet—the ones that said everything bad about Sam and all of the ones about how I had to just back up on my feet, and I did, and this is how it felt. I felt at my ear and wondered if I would become like good ol’ Vincent spend the remainder of my life in a multi-concentric circle of Hell as I lived in an apartment by myself writing self-destructive poems about how much life sucks and have them rhyme in iambic pentameter.

I wanted to slam my hands and then my head into my locker but I felt back showing any emotions. If I was meant to be alone for a while longer, so be it, I mean I had handled it so well so far, so why not a few years more? Even there was still more than twenty minutes before firth period, I got my books, went to the classroom and walked over to my desk to sit down.
“Eric!” Jeannie yelled down the hallway. I wanted to hide from her most of all after what Jason had said the past few days. “Hey, we have to judge the posters and still have a meeting about the pep rally and tonight’s game.”
“Right,” I replied, hiding any form of negativity that I could.
“Did you forget?”
“A little, it’s been a day and Nick usually reminds me of things like this.”
“I think the sophomores and the seniors have the best poster designs. Sherry and Lisa have one that is decked out with fireworks. We’re hoping no one tries to light it up.”
“I trust our fire department to arrive as soon as possible,” I said as she accelerated her pace to the gym.

The gym was decorated all around with posters made from everything: card stock, poster board, butcher paper, and what looked like satin and gray lace on black vinyl. One of the posters looks like a folded note that screamed out something about defeating the Davenport Gorillas. The form reminded me of the folded poem from the other day, and of course it did and I could swear that I could see Rebekah’s hair move past me in my peripheral vision, but only to turn in that direction and see someone entirely different or no one at all.

We made our decisions and nominated the fireworks poster as the best and then went to the library.
“This will be a quick meeting,” I said as we sat down. “And, for the record, I really don’t care about parliamentary-pro at the moment. Can someone make a motion?”
“I move that we suspends parliamentary procedure for this meeting,” Richard stated.
“Do I have second?”
“Second,” Molly replied.
Jeannie continued to write in her notebook, apparently she was still going to notate everything.
“Okay, its been properly moved and seconded that we’re going to ignore the rules. Okay, whatever, we’re wasting time so, what’s going on for the pep rally?”
“The air band competitions, we have an issue with the freshman class,” Molly said as she passed a note to me.
“What’s the problem?”
“They’re using a song by Two Live Crew.”
Richard laughed and snorted hysterically for a bit.
“The Who?” I asked,
“If only,” Molly replied.
I looked over the paper and at the song, ‘Oh, Me So Horny’. “I’m assuming this song has nothing to do with trumpets?”
“Well, they do have a brass section in the skit.”
“Minus the ‘BR’,” Richard stated.
“Seriously?” I asked to know one in particular as everyone looked at me. It was quite clear to them that I must have been extremely sheltered in life. “Okay, who is the Freshman class advisor?”
“Mrs Smith,” Jeannie stated as she continued to write.
“Okay, I will go and tell her about this song choice. What about the game?”
“The class with the most attendance wins the spirit stick.” Richard stated.
“Did we talk on how we were going to count people?”
“Yeah, we thought that everyone gets a ticket, color-coded by class, at the game and drops them in a box or-“
“A jar-“ Molly added.
“Yeah, a jar, and we count it up before halftime and the winner get the stick.”
“Do we have these tickets?”
“Yeah, Nick has them.” Richard said with a nod.
“Is he going to be coming tonight?”
Jeannie looked up at me with an expression that was half question and then other of sort of contempt.
“Don’t know.”
“Okay,” I asked as I looked away from Jeannie a bit and towards Molly and Richard. “Let’s say that we get the tickets. Who’s counting them?”
“We would have to.”
“Any volunteers?”
No one raised their hands. Not that I blamed anyone.
“Okay, I guess I will, anyone want to join me?”
Again, no one raised their hands.
“It’s okay. I think I can coordinate some help,” I replied as a switch in my brain flipped from my original idea: to maybe ask Rebekah to help me but then, why ask her for that? It was kind of clear that she was something in me too so why didn’t I try to pursue her? I had to just forgo the bad, the could of, should of, might have been. I had watched from the sidelines so long, like a lamppost and wondered why I never did anything. At that moment, I would do something. It may end of a fiery wreck, but, at least I would know for sure and could move on. “Anything else?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Okay, let’s find a way to get in touch with Nick or get some other form of ballot or token or whatever.”
I left the library before everyone else, ran down the hallway, and bolted out the door.

The multi-purpose room was dark but I could see that is was like it was a few years: the boys on one side of the room and the girls on the other with no one coming to meet in the middle to talk, much less dance. Maybe there was a couple or two or maybe a line dance song would come up and a few brave sounds would march to the battlefield.
That wasn’t me at the time, but here I was, with my eyes trying to adjust to the light and my hopes that a teacher wouldn’t ask what I was doing there for a few minutes.
“Are you looking for Becky?” Renee yelled in my ear as the music blasted through the speakers. I was partially glad she found me. I kind of wanted to walk up to her in surprise like the guy always does in the movies but I doubted that “Wild, Wild, West” was an appropriate song to dance to; that and I probably would not have been able to find her,
“Yes!”
“She’s over here.”
Renee led me through the dense crowd of students over to where Rebekah stood.
“Hey, Beck! Turn around!”
She turned to face us.
“Hello,” I replied with the best smile I could give without looking too happy.
“What are you doing here?”
“I missed coming up here during lunch, so, I’m here now.”
She walked over to me as the song changed to some slow dance song that’s was heavy on the piano. We held onto each other’s hands for a few seconds and took the assumed high school slow dance position: with our arms far apart from each other. We held this position for a few turns before moving closing the gap. We adjusted our hands and I lowered my head closer to her shoulders to be closer.
“I’m glad you came here, I was kind of thinking that-“
“That it wouldn’t work?”
“Renee told me that it’s a bad idea.”
“Someone told me the same thing. Maybe they should get together?”
“I know, right?”
We danced together for a few more seconds.
“Eric?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“No,” I replied as we faced each other, “thank you.”
At that moment, the fire alarm went off, causing the music to stop and the lights to come on.

VIII. To Say Goodbye To You

I planned a night for us, just the two us this time, with absolutely no Derek-sitting required. Keri had broken up with about a week after the movie double date. I did not know the reasons and I never asked Sam to tell me as it wasn’t my business.

I wanted us to go somewhere that we had never been to and just spend time together. Maybe dinner or perhaps going to the mall…but I didn’t have any money, at least not the amount to go out on the town; and I didn’t have a license and I didn’t want James or my parents to have to chauffeur us around. So, I decided to make it a picnic event in Medical Lake. Yes, my mom did drive us but Sam had a blindfold on; which she refused to do at first, until I played up on the surprise.

We arrived at the lake front and I led her out of the car while carrying two backpacks. I waved my mom that she could go which was a huge gamble. I didn’t know if she’d hate what I planned or saw it as ultra-cheap—but again, we were both too young to work for a lot of money so I was hopeful that she would find it lovely, romantic, or at the very least, quaint.

I removed the blindfold and she commented that she knew this Medical Lake when she got out of the car and that it was a cool idea. I so wanted to tell her everything that I was afraid to say so many months ago, the same things I didn’t say yet again even with a small radio playing a slow-dance song and with our faces millimeters apart. It breaks your heart in two, to wonder why you can’t be truthful and why your thoughts of that white picket fence and a small house on two teacher’s salaries would never happen.

The fire trucks left the school without dousing the gym in water but the pep rally was effectively cancelled due to the smoke and lingering stench of gunpowder. No one saw who lit the poster up but a few people claimed it was an awesome sight. I sat in my desk and looked at the clock during the class. Time never moved so slow for me than on that day. I had the plan to leave school, walk across the street and meet Rebekah off-grounds where we could maybe talk about everything and try to handle how to tell everyone who needed to know; which in my mind would only be her parents. We didn’t need the world’s permission. I didn’t need-but would prefer— to have Jeannie’s blessing, but in the end, her opinion was not needed.

I admit, I felt a bit of fear with talking to her parents. I hoped that—maybe—she would have mentioned to them what was going on. Maybe not saying exactly who I was but perhaps giving them some sort of allegory of our relationship. I could only hope.

“What happened this afternoon?”
“A poster caught on fire.”
“A poster?’ She asked as I took her hair right hand and we walked away from the school.
“Yeah, kind off killed the pep rally.”
“And the dance.”
“Well, there’s another one tomorrow. If you want to go.”
“Homecoming?” Rebekah stopped walking, dropped my hand, and looked at me. “You want to take me to homecoming?”
“Yes, and you have no idea how hard I thought it was going to be to ask you.”
“I can imagine. Wow, first high school dance a year early.”
“You’re ahead of the game.”
“Seriously? You want to go with me?”
“If you don’t want to, then we can spend the entire night on a porch swing or the school swing set. I’ll bring a few CD’s of music and maybe we can try to do some type of line dance that’s popular here for some reason.”
“We’ll need more people for a line dance,” she replied as she grabbed my hand again as we continued walking and my hand continued getting sweaty.

I was actually holding her hand for longer than I ever thought was possible. I almost felt like swinging our hands high and then sweeping her off of her feet and holding her high up, like what you see in the movies, but I figured I’d trip and we would both fall to the street. It was best to just smile.
“I’m kind of glad you had your break-up.”

“Me too,” I truthfully replied. Five days earlier I was distraught, disturbed and distressed and though the world had ended but at that moment I almost took in Jason’s words of not remembering ‘old what’s her name’.
“So, you’re really serious about homecoming?”
“Yes, but I’m for whatever you would want to do instead.”
“I’d have to ask my parents and I doubt they’d let you drive me.”
“I will gladly let them drive us there,” I replied with a nod.
“Can they drop us off a few miles away?”
“Of course. We’ll just wear tennis shoes and walk a bit up the road.”
“I’ll ask them tonight before the game.”
“Great,” I replied as I pondered whether I wanted to meet her parents first or just let her work with them.
We turned down the street her house was on when Rebekah stopped short.
“Paul’s there.”
Paul?” I hid any iota that I knew anyone by that name, as there were probably fifty or so people named in Paul in town or the country. What were the odds that it would be THAT one.
“Jeannie’s boyfriend. I don’t really like him. There’s something fake about him, like he wants me to like him so much but then he talks about others. Sorry, here I am doing that to him.”
I couldn’t argue with her. “Maybe Jeannie can rub off on him.”
“As her sister, I’m a bit divided on that.”
“Only child. I can’t relate.”
Rebekah nodded. “Well, ready?”
“To face our first exposure to the real world?”
“Yeah, because our friends don’t count.”
“Ready if you are.”
“Yep,” she said with a nod and we walked on. However, Jeannie walked out of the house and into Paul’s car. The car backed out of the driveway and drove the other way down the street. I felt a bit of relief.
“I guess mom and dad aren’t at home.”
“Then, my dear, this is where I must leave you.”
“You’re right.”
“Can you meet me at the school?”
“How about six at the swings?” I asked.
“Great.”
We didn’t break hands and just looked at each other, something I thought I could do forever—if we weren’t standing in the middle of the street.
She let go of my hand and took a step backwards.
“I’ll see you later, Eric.”
“I’ll be waiting there for you.” I didn’t dare say ‘goodbye’. “Later.”
I walked away and looked back, but she was already at her door.

“You mean you just left her?” Jason asked as we stepped into the “R-Store”, the only grocery store in Reardan.
“I’m not going into her house with just the two of us.”
“Yeah, if her parents came home you’d have to spend the night in her closet. Actually, depending on certain things, that may be a good thing. You could cross it off your bucket list.”
“Is that on yours?”
“If it was Cynthia Crawford’s closet? Oh yeah.”
We walked past the counters and to the candy aisle.
“Hey, Eric, there’s a ring pop--you could give it to your girlfriend-- call it your engagement.
“Not a bad idea,” I replied as Jason tossed the cherry-colored candy to me.
“Its a terrible idea.”
“I’ve thought about getting married, someday.” I replied as I held onto the lollipop.
“Like when, next week?”
“Haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
Jason had grabbed a large bag of Twizzlers, a box of Twix bars and some gum.
“Then, there’s the honeymoon.”
I wold have to ask him how many of miles of dental he used each week.
“Why does it always have to go there?”
“Because, it happens.”
“What, love? Marriage?”
“Teenage pregnancy,”
“Well, yeah, that happens to some,” I replied as I followed Jason to the soda and chip aisle.
“Why would you want to be married?”
“It’s called love.”
“You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means. Let’s note facts: You commit a crime, you’re arrested, you get an attorney, set before a judge, verdict is rendered, you’re sentenced, and you’re given a number and life without parole.”
“So, marriage is like a prison sentence?”
“Yes, without the metal toilet. You meet somebody, you fall in love, you buy a ring, you go before a judge and the verdict is rendered. You’re sentenced and given a number and life without parole.”
“And I once wondered why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“A girlfriend is one thing, a bride to be is another; AND, you’ve only known her for a week. Granted, sometimes weird things happens and people get so close they get married in no time...but usually they’re older and--geez why are we talking about this? I feel like I should go rent a tux.”
“One day, you just might.”
“The day you get married, or when I hear that you‘re going to get married, I’ll buy you one. Hell, I’ll buy her friggin dress too.”.
“Do you remember reading Romeo and Juliet?”
“You’re making me think back to the ninth grade, but yeah”
“Then you see what I mean?”
“Getting married, she drinking hemlock and you stabbing yourself? Let me inform you about the laws in this state--”
“In the state of Washington you have to have parental consent if you’re under seventeen.”
“I don’t really want to know why you know that. You’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you?”
“I’m not thinking anything like that, I, we--Jason, I think I love her.”
“Did you tell her that? You kind of have a habit of talking about things to everyone else but the particular person. Also, you have a habit of gigantic delusions of grandeur. ”
“It’s too early to say that to her. I think it would frighten her away.”
“Have you given her any of your poems?”
“One.”
“And she didn’t run away then?”
Jason opened one of the drink case and pulled out three Mountain Dew bottles.
“No.”
“Look, Eric,” Jason handed the bottles to me and then closed the case, “I will regret saying this, but, if she ,makes you happy, then I’m happy.”
“Thank you.”
“But, if you say or do anything stupid, I will be there to laugh at you like Jim Carrey.”
“Couldn’t stop you if I tried.”
“Damn straight,” Jason replied as we went to check-out.

I waited until we left the R-Store and before Jason took a drink of his soda to say anything else.
“I asked her to homecoming.”
“Oh my God! Strad, what in the hell is wrong with you?” Jason asked as he fumbled with nearly opened Mountain Dew. “Am I on ‘Totally Hidden Video’? Seriously? Where did they hide the freaking camera on you?”

IX. Out of the Woods

It all came to an end in July of 1992, or at least it seemed that way to me as that was it when I tried to call her and she never picked up the phone. Her mom did, and James did, but she didn’t and no one would tell me why. They just said they would tell her I called. I stopped calling for the rest of the day and instead I called the local radio station and dedicated a song to her. I had forgotten that she didn’t listen to that radio station so she never heard the dedication or the song, which was a tune that I associated our relationship with, not fully aware that by doing that, I would hate a particular song by Chicago for all eternity.
I played my Nintendo, I worked on a few models, I even tried to write a poem or two for her, since I had ever only given one to her, why not a new one?

The writing took forever, or just felt that way and when I looked at it I wanted to say it was the best thing since Yates but deep down I knew it was more on the lines of Poe: while it talked of deviation and emotion it also screamed of desperation and confusion. I gave it to her on Wednesday night, in the few seconds I saw of her as she avoided me. I was sure that it wasn’t because of something I had done, it was because of something I had not: I was not there emotionally and, like before, the mask on my face fell and I was so despondent but unable to tell her why and what do all teenagers do in the face of confusion?
We do two things: collapse in sorrow, or we try to avoid it.
Or, maybe that’s just me.

I sat on one of the swings in front of the grade school and waited for Rebekah to arrive. Sure, I could have hung out in the pit—a recessed area of the hall across from the library—or I could have gone up to the fields in the meantime but I was fine with sitting on the swing.
It was cool and quiet with the crisp, fall air that was a reminder that colder days were on the way. I shuffled my feet back and forth, not really swinging but kind of like a sway. I kind of thought that she wouldn’t show though. Maybe she had told her parents and they instantly nixed everything sight unseen of me. That was understandable. Perhaps Jeannie had told that it wasn’t a good idea and as her younger sister, she took the advice. Lastly, Paul might have told her a few lies. I was being paranoid because I expected it to crash and burn: it had been what always happened when I got hopes up but didn’t know how to proceed.

I took a deep breath and again thought that if it wasn’t meant to be then it was okay, I mean our ages weren’t an issue, but our grade levels were to everyone else. Jason was right, people would stare. Students would gossip. The school administrators would have us called onto the carpet as some strange case of what not to do. We had broken the unwritten rule and, somehow, the genie would have to be stuffed back into the bottle.
“May be for the best,” I lamented to myself, “do I really want to put her through everything?”
“Hi.”
I looked up to see Rebekah walking up to the swings.
“Hello,” I replied as I got up from the swing.
“Been waiting long?”
“No.”
“I would have come up earlier, but I had to wait to let my parents know I was going to the game.”
“Not a problem.” I took a few steps towards her and held my hands out. “Thanks for coming early. We have some ASB activities to do before the game.”
“Counting the attendance per class?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Jeannie said she wasn’t looking forward to it.”
“Neither am I, as I have no idea who’s in the freshman and sophomore classes.”
“Well, you could always look at someone, and if you don’t recognize them, give a point to each of those classes. It’s bound to come out even, somehow.”
“Great idea.”
Rebekah took a step towards the swings and sat on the one I was on earlier.
“Of course, you could just say the seniors won, right?”
I walked behind her and lightly pushed at her back.
“True, not like anyone would want or could do a recount. It all depends if Nick brings the tickets to give out.”
“Jeannie said there was going to be a raffle too.”
“Yeah, that’s what the tickets are supposed to be for, they place them in the jars.”
“What’s the prize?”
““We never got that far,” I said with a slight sigh.
“There’s no prize?” Rebekah asked as she leaned her head back a little.
“Besides points going towards winning the spirit stick?”
“Yes.”
“The winner gets four jars of tickets.”
“You could bronze them.” She replied with a quick look and a grin to me.
“Maybe some gold plating around the top?”
“Even better.”

We stayed on the swings, talking, until I noticed members of the Pep Band and other students walking past us. We made the trek towards the football field. I used my ASB card and paid for Rebekah to get into the game.
We walked around, kind of aimlessly, as I admit I had no idea where everything was.
“Eric!”
I looked all over for the voice calling me.
“He’s over there,” Rebekah pointed to Nick who was next to a parked car.
We walked over as Nick opened the hatchback of the car.
“I brought the jars and tickets. We’re going to need a table. Richard should have it procured in the concessions stand.”
“They’re not open just yet,” I replied.
“Just knock on the side door.”
“How are you doing?” I asked as he handed two jars to me and then lunged deep into the trunk.
“I’ve been better, but thanks for asking. Just don’t want to see that asshole tonight.”
“He’ll probably avoid you.”
“He better,” Nick replied. “Can I ask you to take these?” He handed over four rolls of colored tickets to Rebekah. She nodded in reply. Nick then grabbed two more jars.
“Let’s get the table.”
“I think we should set up near the concessions stand.” I advised as we lugged everything pas the concession stand and placed them on the ground.
“I thought so too. Have Richard and Molly worked on the poster?”
“I’m not sure. The pep rally was cancelled this afternoon, so I didn’t get to see them.”
“Cancelled?”
“A poster caught on fire,” Rebekah stated.
“Cool. I wish I could have seen that.”
“You and everyone else,” I replied.
We acquired the table from the concessions stand and set up our “ticket table” a few feet away—maybe a little close, but perhaps just enough to help each other: students in line for concessions would see the table, and if they came to us first, maybe they would get a coffee.
Eventually, Molly and Jeannie came up with the posters, clipboards and the class information.
“Becky, what are you doing here?” Jeannie asked.
Nick attempted to ignore the conversation as he briefly looked at me and then walked towards the concessions stand. “I’m going to grab some chairs.”
“Just trying to get a few pointers on how to win an election next year.”
“Have a president who likes whiskey,” Molly replied as she handed me one of the clipboards. “Juniors on the left, seniors on the right.”
“Did we ever decide what the price for winning was?” I asked as I picked up the other clipboard with the freshman and sophomore lists.
“Besides winning the spirit stick and bragging rights?”
“Yes.”
“Nope,” Molly replied.
“They get the four jars,” Jeannie responded as she taped one of the posters to the table.
Rebekah shrugged her shoulders.
“Can we at least gold plate them?” I asked as I looked back at the football field.
The game started an hour later and by the middle of the first quarter the jars were pretty much empty—maybe it was a bad spot to be at, perhaps because we never really got to announce it due to to the lack of a pep rally or maybe because we were going against Davenport, our county rival, that everyone was too busy cheering on the team. I thought that was okay. We had, maybe, thirty tickets, most of them from the senior class.
“Remember what I said earlier? Rebekah asked as she stood up and shivered due to the cold.
“About what?”
“The tickets? That you should just award it to the seniors?”
“I am slowly thinking that. I’ll have to announce it during halftime.”
“Out on the field?” She looked toward the game and then sat back down.
“Yep.”
I was not really looking forward to announcing who would win. I mean, the award would be honest, but this like the third year in a row that my class had won Spirit Week. We usually won during the pep rally air band competition. I had no idea what we had planned for that year. The present spirit week tally was the juniors, seniors, freshman, and the sophomores taking fourth place. The difference between first and second was dependent on how many juniors came over and dropped a ticket in, and only seven had.
“If they do this next year, it’s going to need to be done earlier in the week.”
“No one would hold onto their ticket. Well, I would. I’d have it my purse.”
“I’d laminate mine, maybe put it on a piece of yarn with some macaroni.”
“Like a grade art class necklace?”
I stood up and pantomimed placing a long necklace over my head,
“Then spray paint some tortellini shells to go around it.”
“They have to be in gold.”
“Of course. We could also use some gold foil around the ticket.
“Mrs. Wollweber would approve,” Rebekah replied with a smile.
“We’ll make it a fashion statement.”

As halftime approached, there were a few who approached the table but only one came and placed a ticket in the jar and that person was a sophomore, I think. We did a final count with the senior class winning the vote tally.
“Now to make it official and announce it.”
Nick ran up to us as we dumped all of the tickets into one of the jars.
“How did it go?”
“We won.”
“No one’s going to accept that,” he replied.
“I know, I remember last yeas decision too.”
“What happened last year?” Rebekah asked,
“Some say it was ballot-stuffing,” Nick said as he ripped the posters off of the table.
“What was it really?”
“Someone lost the lists and just made up a number,” he replied as Rebekah remove the jars from the table.
“Is that why there was a fight after the game last year?”
“There was a fight?” I asked. “I always seem to miss those.”
Nick raised his eyebrows as we picked the table up and quickly transported it to the concessions stand.

The three of us then ran to the center of the football in time to meet up with Molly who had a microphone ready.
“You’re live.”
The issue at that moment was that the team and most of the crowd were gone for halftime. There were also people darting around to prepare the for the announcement and procession of the homecoming royalty. Like most Presidents, my announcement would fall on a lot of deaf ears.

“I’d like to take this time to announce the winners of the 1992 Spirt Week competition, winning it by a margin of five points: The Seniors!” I raised my hands high, but felt a tug right arm, like it wouldn’t raise high enough for a moment. I looked to my right to see I was holding onto Rebekah’s hand and she was on her tiptoes.
“The Senior class has won the Spirit Stick!”
There was more clapping and a few boos as I turned the microphone off and handed it to Molly.
I turned to Rebekah to apologize for yanking her hand high, “Sorry about that,” and that’s when I realized that I was holding onto her hand in the middle of the football field. In front of the whole school.
“Shhh,” Rebekah whispered as she reached up and kissed me.

Rebekah slowly broke the kiss and my my mind was still looking up at the sky in a stupor. One could have thrown a football at my head and then tackle me to the ground and I wouldn’t have cared a bit.
“Eric!” Molly hissed.
My face turned beet red as the four of us ran off the field and onto the sidelines. Molly ran further area to rejoin the pep band, Nick turned way, presumably to go back to his car. Rebekah and I ran in the opposite direction, toward the other side of the football field, far enough away from the crowds, but close enough that if one was to try to see us they would.
“Maybe that wasn’t such a good.”
“I wouldn’t have traded it for anything, “I replied.
“If only we had some music and fireworks,” Rebekah replied as she looked back to the field. “I’ve never done something like that before.”
“Well, we did say we would let people know. Go big, or go home, they say.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be sorry,” I said as I felt like lifting her high into the air while laughing in extreme happiness but I couldn’t bring myself to that as I felt I’d probably drop her and that would have really ruined the moment.
I took her hands and looked at her.
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she replied.
“We’re very complimenting to each other, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Rebekah Anne Bettencourt!” We both looked to see Jeannie and Paul running to our location and the thought of taking Rebekah’s hand and running away was front and center in my mind. However, she broke her hands away and stood in front of me.
“What did I see you doing?” Jeannie’s voice toned down a bit but she made a direct path to her sister.
“You know what you saw,” Rebekah replied with the upmost clam, “and I don’t understand why it matters.”
“Eric? Was this your idea?”
“We thought it would be a good ice-breaker,” I replied as I avoided eye contact, for fear of getting the death stare. Her sister was apparently immune to it.
“Ice breaker?” Jeannie asked. Paul said nothing as he stood a few steps behinds Jeannie. “You might as well have had a make-out session in front of the whole school!”
“It was a kiss.”
“Yes, everyone saw it,” Jeannie’s voice elevated a bit. Apparently, she expected Rebekah to feel regretful and ashamed about what had occurred.
“Good.”
“I’m telling mom and dad,” Jeannie replied with no emotion.
“Good.”
“Come here, I want to to talk to you.”
Rebekah turned to me, “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here,” I replied as I kept my eyes away from Jeannie.

The sisters walked away in silence. I was sure there was going to be a lot of terse words in a few seconds, assuming they didn’t walk all the way back to the field.

“Like them young there, huh?” Paul asked as he pointed back towards the girls.
I should have kept my mouth shut, but, “I’m not even going to respond to that.”
“Wow. I mean, has she gone through puberty yet?”
“Why does this even matter to you?” I asked.
“I think it’s kind of weird to see a senior Frenching an eighth grader.”
I wanted to step up to him and tell him that he needed glasses as that didn’t happen.
“I mean that’s disgusting.”
“What’s disgusting is you telling lies about people.”
“What?”
“Nick never threatened you,” I said with a little disdain and almost regret as I instantly knew that I was throwing gas on a bonfire; and as cool as a real one would be, the figurative one in front of me was about to cause some serious burns.
“Oh he does.”
“How?”
“He’s talked to me.”
“Wow, what a crime,” I replied.
“Stradlin!”
We both turned to see Nick running in our direction.
“What’s your problem?” Nick yelled.
“Mind your business, twinkle toes.”
Nick was immediately up against Paul—mere inches from his face.
“Just talking with Eric here, about his liking of little girls.”
Nick’s face turned three shads of amber—I wasn’t exactly sure what color my facial expression was, most likely white as a ghost.
“Great argument.”
“Whatever, man.”
“No, we’re not, ‘whatever man’ here. We’re past that. You want to debate? Fine. You don’t like me. You’ve been here for, maybe, two weeks; spoke to me for maybe thirty seconds and then you make it a point to try and make my life a Hell by making up crap.”
“It’s what I’ve heard.”
“Name your straw men.”
“What?”
Nick took a step back and I looked in the distance, in hopes that I could see Rebekah and Jeannie.
“What did they tell you? What evil and diabolical things am I guilty of?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“I know. You’d prefer to throw your fists instead. So you rile the crowd and throw some ad hominem attacks about things and people you don’t even know about. I’d fight you, but you’re not worth it.”
“Don’t want to get your nails broken, do you?” Paul asked.
“You see, that’s what I mean,” Nick replied as he looked at me. “Paul here just likes to goad people and. Make. Crap. Up.”
The doomsday clock advanced another minute to midnight.
“You know nothing about me. You know nothing about Eric. You’re not making assumptions. You know damn well what you’re doing. I know your kind, Paul. You’re bullies. You’re bile-spewing little bullies.” Nick bowed his head down and clapped his hands. “You know what, I take it back. I will make a motion to dismiss this debate and kick your ass!”
“Nick, no!” I shouted but his fist already connected with Paul’s abdomen.
There was no fake-outs or shoving this time around as Nick shoved Paul to the ground and the two of them grunted and swore as their hands grappled at each other. I admit, I looked like a monkey with my arms out and my face red with fear and anger at the situation.

Jeannie and Rebekah, along with several other people, tragically not one of them someone with a position of authority, ran up to witness the fight. Nick and Paul continued to slam each other around until the stood up and took up the classic school hallway fight pose. I couldn’t hear what the crowd was yelling but I saw the look on the girls’ face in the low light and thought that there was someone in a position of authority: myself.
Like before, I stepped in-between the two of them. “Stop it!” However, unlike last time, they didn’t stop as Nick reached around my shoulder, causing me to flinch toward. Paul took that as an attack and slammed his fist into my face.
Yes, it hurt.
Yes, one does see weird lights and sounds become muffled, well, maybe except for a fringing noise.
And no, I didn’t go down but I staggered a bit, only to be shoved out of the way by Nick.

I felt like throwing up while the two of them continued fighting. It was worse than that summer day inside the minivan. I wanted to crash to the ground but I also wanted to deck Paul in the face or place him in a chokehold. I tried to focus on Paul and Nick but my eyes went back to Rebekah and Jeannie, who looked like they were trying to get to me. I heard my name several times but I had no idea at the time who it was. Paul lunged towards me at about the same time Rebekah did. I moved between them and blocked him from approaching; and in the process wrapped my arms around his neck. He shoved at me and in his attempts to twist away I had him in a headlock and I squeezed at his neck.

I felt disconnected from what I was doing but I knew I was holding him ad he kicked at my feet and tried to move his arms back. Nick had several opportunities to hit Paul, but he refused. I maneuvered Paul away from the crowd and away from the girls all while hearing him shout words that would have made George Carlin say “I missed that one.”
“You haven’t changed!” Nick yelled.
“Neither have you!” Paul yelled back
“What did I ever see you in you?” Nick yelled as he stomped away.
There was an abrupt silence from everyone and I wasn’t exactly sure I heard what I thought I did.
That can’t be right. I thought to myself but then I saw Jeannie’s shocked expression so I guess I heard Paul correctly.
Paul pushed his body back and tried to slam his head into my face so I tightened my grip on his neck. I had no idea on how I was going to be able to let go of him without him wanting to kill me but maybe if I let him go he would just walk away, since everyone heard what was revealed.
However, I heard Rebekah’s voice through the crowd and Paul’s barrage of threats. “Let him go, Eric.”
“Yeah, Eric, listen to your little woman.” Paul grunted.
I released my grip and I could feel my senses return as I pushed him away. My vision was still a little blurry and I had an extreme pain in my face. “Glad that’s over” I thought to myself as I thought about falling to my knees and then laying down but Paul turned around and punched me in the gut. So much for the rules of The Geneva Conventions.

I had to wonder who was watching the fight and why they chose to not do anything.
A few hits later and I was lying on the ground with Paul towering over me.
I tried to look at his face but I could barely make out his features. He was just a faceless fighting machine. I waited for him to kick at me.
“Coming through!” I heard Jason’s voice. “Hold him!”
I laid my head back as I heard hat sounded like several people run up and slam into Paul.
“So, what have we learned?” Jason asked me.
“To call for back-up before attempting to get in the way of two freight trains?”
“Close enough. Seriously, though, are you okay?”
“No, he’s not,” Rebekah yelled.
“I know that,” Jason stated, “But he doesn’t.”
“I know my nose is bloody.”
“Your nose, Strad, looks broken.”
I gave Jason a thumbs up. I kind of wanted to give him the finger, but thought against it.
“Come on, you can’t just lie there, get up.”
I opened my eyes, or at least tried to, but they were pretty swollen. Jason grabbed at one of my hands and Rebekah took the other. I looked like a broken marionette, barely being held up by tattered strings as I leaned on Jason.
“Whats happening?” I asked as I heard multiple shouts.
“Oh, just a a few guys holding Paul down. It helps to know people all over.”
Jason had found a few of the cowboys, a group of students who wore wranglers, boots and a RC can as a spit cup every day. Somehow he got a few of them to back him up.
“You owe them six packs of Skol, each,” Jason whispered as we limped away.
“I’ll make sure they’re gold-plated,” I replied as we walked to the fence on the other side of the baseball field. The football game continued in the background.
“I’m going to get someone to come look at you…and maybe Paul after Eddie’s through with him.”
I sat down against a metal fence pole.
“Thank you,” I replied as Jason walked away.
“Is he the friend you told me about?”
“Yep.”
“What happened?”
“Paul said a few things about, well, us and Nick heard him. To be honest, I’m not sure why he was there, but when they started fighting I thought I had to break it up, again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“About making you stop trying to choke him.”
I had to smile at that, and I could almost see a small grin on her face.
“It’s okay. I can knock this off my to do list.”
“A fight?”
“Something for the yearbook. Are we still up for homecoming?”
“Are you sure you’ll be up for it?”
“If you are.”
“Let’s see how you are in the morning.”
I gave a thumbs-up at that.
“Strad!”
“It’s Jason,” Rebekah said as she squeezed my hand, “ along with a few adults.”
“Brought some help for you,” Jason said as I felt a shadow fall over me.
“Eric?” The voice of someone I didn’t know asked. “Can you see me?”
“Nope,” I replied.
Several adults, some I recognized as teachers came and went, along with a lot of shouting and cheering, which I assumed was for the the football game and not for me, not that I wanted it as I didn’t think what I did was extraordinary. The fact that I made it out alive? That was miraculous.
I was informed that I wasn’t going to die but I should hav my nose looked at so they placed an ice pack on my face and someone called my parents. They said they would come and get me.
They moved me down to the high school and so I waited in the pit with Rebekah sitting next to me.
“So, I get to meet your parents? So soon?”
“I’ll let you explain what happened,” I said as I shifted the pack form one side of my face to the other. I could see her a little, mostly her eyes and some of her freckles but everything else was a blur.
“Why?”
“It will sound better coming from you. They won’t do the parental tag team thing.”
“You’re parents do that too?”
“Doesn’t everyone’s?” I asked.
“That was incredibly stupid!” Jeannie yelled form the middle of the hallway.
I didn’t say anything but I was thankful that I couldn’t see her so she couldn’t use the death stare, which I assumed she had trained on me for some time now.
“He was trying to stop them,” Rebekah calmly replied to her sister. Their sisterly dynamic was incredible—they didn’t scream at each other. It made me wonder if they as calm at home as they were with each other when they disagreed in public.
“I meant me,” she replied, much to my surprise.
“Sorry. I’m sure he was a nice guy,” I said quietly.
“Yeah, was, or maybe just the guy I wanted him to be.”
I didn’t reply to that.
“So, you’re him then? The one I’ve had to hear about for the past week?”
“Jeannie,” Rebekah hissed.
“Okay, okay. I won’t say anything. Yet.” She walked back to Rebekah. “They’re going to ask about his face when he comes by tomorrow.”
“We know,” Rebekah replied.
“You’re going to get grilled, Eric, you know that, right?”
“By your parents?” I asked.
“Yes, and by me.”
“I’m willing to face the music,” I saiid with a confident smile. Sure, my face looked like I had called Mike Tyson, but I felt like a winner at that moment.

I am confident of the future, no matter how it turns out. I made plans that were impossible to carry out, or at least at the times I was thinking about them. I wanted a nice house, maybe made with some advanced materials with a pool, a game room and perhaps a quaint little study. Failing at that, a small dwelling for two, only to have to move to something larger as two became three or more. Sure, I thought of that.
I also thought only the happy moments while I was with Sam. Yes, the great divide of living eight miles away from her and going to different schools got to me. I tried to let it go but I was young with my head in the clouds, my heart right on my sleeve and my self-doubt taking front and center in the limelight. He was so good at his performance that I allowed everything to fail. I wished for her to move away from me, again. The feeling that she could be saved from the catastrophe that could be my life. In my bitterness of how I felt about myself, I justified letting her go as a way of saving her from me.
I had forgotten about that on the day I read her letter. I had disregarded what I did and read her note as some way of her wanting to reconnect to me at the last moment. Perhaps it was just a way for her to tell me that the least I could do was to see her off, as a friend and not have some longing for her. Which is a bit strange, as I had almost two months to talk to her about everything that was on my mind. I had close to sixty days to call her up or ask her to stay behind at Sunday School. There were about 5,184,000 seconds to hash over what had occurred during our relationship if I had not given up and forced her out of my life until that day in September.
Endings create beginnings, so they say, but I was not willing to accept that it was just so simple as that. Yes, I had to look at a friendly face with mistrust. I wanted to doubt her feelings for me, as I assumed there weren’t any, or at least not the ones I thought of. I had a vision of our lives together twenty-six years beyond that fall day that started spirit week. It didn’t matter what the circumstance was; who I had to battle or where I had to go. If I had to run to the top of the butte? Fine. If I had to risk life and limb? Okay, did that. If I had to go out onto the stage and sucker-punch self-doubt in face? I would do it.
The only problem I had, was that I didn’t know if I could tell Rebekah that I loved her.

To Say Goodbye to You
I woke up around eleven the next day due to being at the ER and being told, after several tugs, that my nose wasn’t broken. My face was still a little swollen and I could still fell a dull pain in my chest. I tired not to think about what would happen on Monday and how many times I would have to put the record straight on everything from who won the ticket contest, the kiss, and my fight to the death.
Jason came over and forced me to sit on the porch swing in the near-noon day sun.
“You look better,” he commented, “your face still looks like a chipmunk.”
“As long as it’s not Theodore,” I replied as I slowly shuffled the swing back and forth. “I’m still trying to figure out exactly what happened, Jason.”
“Besides the fact that Paul’s a,” Jason looked toward the house to see if my parents were near, “butthole?”
“I thought he was the day I met him.”
“That anniversary’s coming up.”
“Please.” I said as I raised my legs up and laid down on the swing.
“So, are you still going to the dance tonight.”
“Yes.”
“With Rebekah?”
“Yes.”
“But not with Jeannie and Paul?”
I turned my head and looked back at Jason with a say what? face .
“Yeah, right. Sorry, I never saw that coming.”
“Neither did Jeannie. Kind of hit her hard.” I said as I rolled off of the swing, stood up and stretched.
“So she didn’t want to kill you about Becky?”
“Maybe she did earlier, maybe still. I guess I’ll find out when I meet the family tonight.”
“She wants you to meet her parents?”
“Yes, I felt it was the right thing to do.”
“It’s not a good idea to get acquainted with your girlfriend’s parents.”
“Okay, Virgil, why is that?
“Because when you break up with her—”
“When?” I asked with a hint of annoyance as I tapped my foot.
“When that happens, and you’re not involved with the family then you fade into Boyfriends of Christmas Past ether and no one really mentions you. But, if you go and eat with the family, go on camping trips or sit with them in the living room then they get to remember you and rip you a new one in the form of anecdotal stories to future boyfriends or fiancé’s”
“Where do you come up with these things?” I asked as I opened the front door.
“I am a fountain of wisdom.”
“Yes, yes, you are,” I replied.

We spent the afternoon with me praying, wishing and hoping that the swelling in my face would go down before six o’clock, when I was expected to be at Rebekah’s home. Jason insisted that I let him drive me out to Reardan. I didn’t want him to have to chauffeur me back and forth, since he was not going to homecoming and instead stated he was saving everything up for Prom—as he was going to ride with Jenny and the others in a limousine.
“Are you going to wear a dress to Prom?”
“It depends if I find something in my color. I haven’t burned Leslie’s stuff yet so maybe if we combine everything. Hey! I could get someone in the Home Ec to sew something for me. Can you talk to Mr. Jantz about that?”
“Do I tell her the backstory and everything?”
“Sell it anyway you can, Strad.”
At five o’clock, I looked at myself in my mirror and I was okay with how I looked. Black slacks, a solid green dress shirt and a tie. My face was still bloated, but I had to accept it. I wanted to think that if we got pictures, they should only be of her.
I opened the fridge and retrieved the white corsage we purchased on the way back from the ER—I insisted we but it then, even though I was in a state of agony and delusion.
I still felt that way as I sat in the front seat of Jason’s car.
“What’s the problem, Strad?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Jason.”
“Wow, the truth comes out now,” Jason replied as he shifted gears and we peeled out of the driveway.
“I mean, I said I hadn’t told her that I love her.”
“Good man.”
“But I do.”
“Has she said it to you?”
“No.”
“You do not pay me enough to go over these things with you. I noticed you were missing your necklace. Did they cut if off at the hospital?”
“I broke it yesterday.”
“You broke the I-will-never-take-this-off-even-if-it-kills-me necklace?”
I nodded.
“Cue the Handel!” Jason yelled as he took both hands off of the wheel while accelerating.
“That’s funny,” I replied as I tried to not show the fear in my eyes.
“This is a sign, Strad. A sign.”
“A sign? That I broke a necklace wile I was having a shirt mental breakdown about whether or not to go see Rebekah at the dance they were having? That kind of sign?”
“Wait, you went to the seventh and eighth grade dance?”
“Until the fire alarm went off, yes.”
Jason shook his head and then took a deep breath. “Okay, if we look deeply into this, then we can say that when you went Incredible Sulk.”
“You mean hulk?”
“No, I meant sulk. Please, try to keep up.”
It was then my turn to take a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“The necklace was like one of those mythological things that ties someone’s souls. You were able to let go of Sam at that moment and risk a lot of, therapy, maybe, by going to a junior high school dance.”
“Jason, it’s not like—”
“And then. Then! She probably had a similar epiphany at the football game and decided to place her stamp on you in front to the entire community. I mean, come on, everyone’s going to talk about that.”
I nodded.
“And so, you need to embrace that.”
“Twenty-four hours ago you said.”
“I said I’d call you out if you did something stupid. You do stupid stuff each day, so this is like, normal.”
“What about the unwritten rules and all that?”
“What rules?”
“You are confusing me.” I said as Jason turned onto highway two with eleven miles to go until we arrived in Reardan.
“Eric, I have seen and heard enough this entire week dealing with you and the people around you, myself included, to say we’re all in need of a shrink .”
“Okay,” I replied as I turned the corsage box over in my hands.
“I don’t hate to say it, but I need to say goodbye to you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sad Sack Stradlin has left the building. Here he is, Super Strad!”
“If you ever say that again—”
“Dude, I was like, this close to making sure it would be on your yearbook page.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Of course, I still think you should have chosen Jeannie. You could try again, you know: since her and Paul are no longer a thing?”
If he wasn’t driving, I would have punched him.

We arrived at the Bettencourt house and I stepped out of the car.
“Good luck,” Jason said. “If I don’t hear from you by midnight, I’ll call the police and have them look for your body up on the butte.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I closed the door.
Jason drove away and I stood in the middle of the road, debating whether or not I could walk up to their door after everything that happened. Surely her parents heard everything. Hopefully it was from Rebekah and Jeannie and not someone else. Would they slam the door in my face or scream at me first and then slam the door in my face? I walked up to the house and knocked on the front door.
Rebekah answered the door. She was wearing a green, velvet-looking dress with black edges at the top.
“Good evening,” I said with a slight bow and handed the corsage to her.
“Thank you. Come in.”
The front of the house was dark with small lights and candles. There was a quiet song playing from a large stereo system on the far wall.
“I have good and bad news,” she said as she opened the corsage and looked at the flower.
“What’s the bad news?” I asked as Jason’s words from earlier echoed in my mind. It was happening, just as he said it would: the when. I wanted to close my eyes and take a step back, so I could remember the way she looked before everything apart.
“I can’t go to homecoming, not this year,” she said as I took the flower and placed it on her wrist.
“What’s the good news?”
“We can still dance. Right here.”
“That’s perfect,” I replied as I took her hands.
“You’re not disappointed?” She asked as we slowly moved across what felt like a hardwood floor.
“You’re here, I’m here. You’re family’s here. It’s a perfect evening.”
There was a moment of silence as I looked at her face, a face that wasn’t hidden by her hair as she had it pulled back in brads. She seemed to glow in the candle light.
“I never shared a poem with you. The one you read doesn’t count.”
“I’m all ears.”
“It’s not ready yet,” she whispered. “I was so nervous that you weren’t going to come tonight.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I mean, two freight trains couldn’t keep me from being here with you.”
We danced for a few more minutes. It was the calmest dance I had ever been to. There were no lines, crowds or people staring because I wore something completely crazy like a sweater vest with black slacks, and a turtleneck along with a crystal pendant. Not that it looked bad, but I had the feeling that I was being stared at the entire time that night, which ruined the mood I wanted for that evening.
I closed my eyes as I felt the crushing pressure of the ghost of relationships past trying to rush over me. I wouldn’t lets it come back to me. Yes, I would remember it, it would be a part of me forever, but I refused to let it rip everything to pieces. It would not be a poltergeist to my present time.
“Rebekah, I have something I have to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“I’m bad at relationships. I don’t really know what to do.”
“I thought it was just me,” she replied as she laid her head my shoulder.
“I’m going to make mistakes.”
“I hope so.”
“I’m going to disappoint you.”
“I know.”
She looked up at me. “I’m going to make you mad, like crazy mad, I mean.”
“Okay.”
“We’re going to go all over the place on how to do stuff.”
“We’ve got a head start on that,” I replied.
“We’ll always be here for each other.”
“Thank you,” I said as I hugged her. “I love you.”