Art & Soul (17 page)

S
ometimes I caught
my parents staring at me waiting for me to confess that the night I slept with James was an accident, that I’d had no say in the matter. But I had. I allowed him to touch me and keep touching me. As he kissed me I said yes, over and over again, feeling as if he was the only thing I needed and wanted.

And then he stopped kissing me. The memory of that night replayed in my mind every morning I woke up, stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and touched my stomach.

Sometimes I stared at myself waiting to confess that the night I slept with James was an accident, that I’d had no say in the matter. But I had. I wanted him.

And for a stupid few minutes, I could’ve sworn he wanted me, too.

D
r. Ward’s
candy choice today was Starbursts, which was much better than his black licorice days.

“What’s on your mind, Aria?”

“Salvador Dalí. Salvador was known for his melting clocks painting,
The Persistence of Memory
. Did you know he had a brother nine months older than him who died? His brother’s name was Salvador. His parents named Salvador after his dead brother Salvador. Isn’t that crazy? They believed that he was the reincarnation of his brother. He said, ‘
We resembled each other like two drops of water, but we had different reflections. He was probably a first version of myself, but conceived too much in the absolute.
’ Imagine that pressure. Never living up to what your parents dreamed you could be.”

“Do you feel pressure from your parents, Aria? Like you let them down?”

I blinked, thinking back to the argument my parents had had a few hours ago. “Is there a deal breaker?” I asked.

“For what?”

“For how much your parents love you. Are there different kinds of mistakes that can just make them stop loving you? Like, say a kid started using drugs, or fighting. Or failed a class. Or—”

“Got pregnant.”

“Yeah. Is that a deal breaker for love?”

“Your parents still care a lot about you,” Dr. Ward said.

“But it’s not the same. Before, Dad used to pop into my room each night and tell me something about sports that I didn’t care about. Then I would tell him something about art that he didn’t care about, and then he would kiss my forehead and leave.”

“And now?”

“Now all of those memories are just melting away.”

“You want to talk more about that?” he asked.

“No.”

He didn’t push me for more details. I was starting to like that about him.

W
hen we got home
, I looked down at my phone to see if Levi had texted me back.

Levi:
Sorry for any trouble I caused.

Aria:
It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.

He didn’t text back until dinnertime.

Levi:
It might be best if we don’t talk outside of art and music class. I don’t want to add stress to your family.

Aria:
What? That’s stupid.

Levi:
Sorry, Art.

Aria:
You can’t break off a friendship with an emotional girl who’s pregnant over a text message after telling her that you like her. That’s just mean. And stupid.

He didn’t reply until after KitKat’s bath.

Levi:
I know. Sorry.

That’s it? You’re sorry?

Aria:
Do you want the definition of asshole?

He didn’t reply.

T
he next morning
at the bus stop, Aria didn’t look at me, but she did define a word for me.

“Asshole: a stupid, mean, or contemptible person. Just in case you didn’t know.”

I definitely knew.

Right before lunch, Simon informed me that I should probably sit at a different lunch table, but he told me we could still talk in gym class. I sighed, taking my lunch and finding an abandoned table in the back corner of the cafeteria.

I sat and ate my nasty food.

“Are you okay?” Abigail asked, walking up to me. “I stopped by Aria and Simon’s table, and Aria said you weren’t sitting with them anymore.”

“Yeah.”

She sat down beside me. “I have a few extra minutes today if you want me to sit with you. And I will probably have some extra time tomorrow, too.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Abigail.”

“Welcome.” She paused, staring down at her hands. “Why haven’t you told Simon or Aria about my cancer?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you saw me at chemotherapy the day before you invited me to sit and eat with you guys.”

“Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think it was my right to share something like that.”

“But that’s why you invited me to eat with you three, right? Because you felt bad for me?”

“No. I invited you because when you smile, you make everyone else happy.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “The day you asked me to sit with you guys I was on my way to the bathroom to cry because it was one of my not-so-happy days. So thanks for that.”

“Anytime.”

She rubbed her shoulder and looked across to the table that we normally set at. “Is Simon mad at me or something? He won’t even talk to me, let alone look my way.”

She honestly appeared perplexed by Simon’s sudden distance from her. “He likes you, Abigail.”

“Oh, I know. I like him, too,” she said, eating her sandwich.

“No, I mean he
likes
you, likes you.”

“I know. I like him, like him, too.” She cocked an eyebrow. “I thought that was clear? I gave him extra cookies.”

“But you told him you didn’t want to go out with him.”

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because girls like me don’t get the boyfriends.” She frowned. She sat with me for the longest she had ever sat in one place. “After next week, though, things will be different,” she muttered to herself before saying, “Should I make him brownies this time?”

“
S
tay
the hell out of my life!” I whisper-shouted toward James, walking up to his locker. I couldn’t believe that not only did he have the nerve to threaten Levi at the party, but to also tell my dad lies about Levi as if he knew him. “And stay out of Levi’s life. He has done nothing to you.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he whispered back, glancing down the hallways, making sure no one was watching us. “I’m sorry that I care about the kinds of people who are messing with you.”

“Stop it, James. You have nothing to do with this. You have no say in who talks to me and who doesn’t. Your girlfriend is Nadine. Not me. And you are seconds away from really pissing off a pregnant girl.”

He reached to touch my shoulder, and I stepped back. “And really? I’m like a sister to you? Because that’s not really disturbing and awkward,” I sarcastically remarked.

“I’m not in love with her anymore,” he blurted out, making my stomach twist.

“James…”

He stepped toward me.

I stepped away.

“You’re always on my mind. I find myself thinking about you when I shouldn’t. When I’m with her, you’re crossing my mind.”

“Probably because you feel guilty about lying to her.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Well, yes. But that’s not it. I just think her and me—

“Let me guess, you two are growing apart? If I had a dime for every time I heard that.”

“Aria, I want to help you. I want to help take some of the pressure off of you. It’s not fair that you’re going through this all on your own and I just want to help.”

“Fine. Then tell everyone at school that you’re the father,” I said.

His mouth tightened. His shoulders dropped.

That’s what I thought.

“Just leave me alone, okay?”

He nodded. “But it’s true. I’m not in love with her anymore.”

“Who you’re not in love with is none of my business. Just like Levi is none of yours.”

I left him standing there dumbfounded. I wished the father of the baby was a stranger. Seeing James on a daily basis was a complete mess.

I
wondered
how people fell out of love. James made it sound as if falling out of love was so simple. Was it one big event that changed the way their hearts beat or was it the little annoyances that built up over time? Mom and Dad fought every day lately, but I tried my best to not overthink it. People in love fought sometimes.

Whenever one of us kids walked in on them arguing, they went mute. Then they would talk about some mundane thing like the weather or politics. They were professionals at pretending to be happy, even though we all knew they weren’t. Once we left the room, the screaming would start up again.

Then, one day everything changed. The fighting stopped. They both grew tired. Sometimes they would whisper things to one another, other times they moved right past each other as if neither one of them existed.

I missed the fighting.

“
I
read something interesting
,” Dr. Ward said, leaning back in his chair. I was confused by the sudden change to the start of this meeting.

“Where’s the candy bowl?” I asked.

“Oh. No candy today.”

I didn’t like that. I didn’t like the change. The pens on his desks weren’t blue anymore. They were red. I didn’t like that, either. The couch had new yellow throw pillows. His office was the same, but…different.

“As I was saying,” he continued.
No. You’re only supposed to say two things.
“I researched some more on Salvador after last week’s conversation. He had a painting called
My Dead Brother
. He used pop art to create it actually, did you know that?”

Of course I knew that.

“Of course you know that. Anyway, Salvador said something that struck me. He said,
‘Every day, I kill the image of my poor brother…I assassinate him regularly, for the ‘Divine Dali’ cannot have anything in common with this former terrestrial being.’
Interesting, huh?”

I wiggled in my seat, uncomfortable with the quote. “Ask me what’s on my mind,” I ordered.

He shook his head. “Not today.”

Why? Why did he have to be so difficult today? Why did he have to break the normality that we’d fallen into?

Why did things have to change?

“You’re about sixteen weeks pregnant now, right?”

My eyes welled up with tears because he was seeing me, even when all I wanted to be was invisible. “Seventeen weeks.”

“You’re not the same person you were a few months ago, are you? That girl’s gone now, isn’t she?”

I nodded again.

“But maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s okay to no longer be the person we thought we were meant to be. Maybe it’s okay to just be who we are now and accept that.”

“But I messed up. I messed up my family’s future.”

“That’s the thing about the future, and the past even. They don’t exist in this moment. We only have the here and now. If we focus too much on the past or too heavily on the future, we miss out on our present desires, the things we want right now.”

I cried in his office for the first time, breaking down because I was no longer the person I used to be. I was someone new, someone that my father didn’t love and my mother pitied; I worried too much about what that meant for our future.

Dr. Ward handed me a Kleenex, and I blew my nose in it.

He crossed his arms, studying my every broken down movement. “What do you want, Aria?” he asked.

“What?”

“What do you want?” He repeated himself like it was the easiest question ever.

I cried some more, because I knew what I wanted, but I thought it made me an awful kind of person.

I wanted to have the baby.

But I didn’t want to keep it.

“
H
ow was the meeting
?” Mom asked me, driving away from Dr. Ward’s office.

“Awful,” I sobbed. “He’s really awful. I never want to go back again.”

“Good.” She smiled, nodding. “Good, good, good. I’m glad you have someone to talk to.”

Me too.

I
hadn’t spoken
to Aria or Simon in a week. When Aria and I worked on our project, she used as few words as possible to get her points across. She was cold, distant. It wasn’t until Friday that she actually took notice of me.

“What’s going on?” I asked, walking up to Simon, Abigail, and Aria.

“It’s Abigail,” Aria whispered, her eyes wide. “She’s not…moving.”

My eyes locked in on the girl, and a part of me didn’t believe it was Abigail. She was wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt that hugged her body. No high heels—just tennis shoes.

“Abigail?” I asked, waving my hand in front of her face. Her crystal blue eyes were wide, but I couldn’t read her thoughts. “What’s going on?”

“She’s not talking, either. No movements, no words,” Simon explained. “She’s officially broken.”

We stood in front of her as the hallways cleared and everyone hurried to their first hour class after the bell rang. The hallways went silent, and Abigail didn’t budge.

“She’s never been late to class.” Aria frowned. “Hell is freezing over right now as we speak.”

Abigail blinked.

Our eyes widened as if shocked by the small movement of her eyes.

“I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re all invited,” Abigail said before walking off.

Slowly.

Without haste.

At a normal walking pace.

What. The. Hell?

W
e showed
up to Abigail’s house at the same time, and when I asked Aria if she was still upset with me, she told me not to speak to her, so I took that as a yes.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m still pretty annoyed with Abigail after she flatly rejected me with no reason,” Simon said, fixing his tie. The fact that he was wearing a tie made me realize that even though he said he was still mad, he still cared what this girl thought of him. “But I just had to know what an Abigail party would be like. It just seems—weird.”

Aria rang the doorbell to Abigail’s house while Simon kept un-tucking and re-tucking his plaid button-down shirt into his belted jeans.

When the door opened, an older woman with blonde hair and blue eyes matching Abigail’s appeared. “Hi! You must be Abbi’s friends. I’ve heard so much about you three!” She smiled bright, inviting us inside. “I’m her mom, Nancy. Come on in! We are just getting everything going with the games and things. It means the world to us that you came!”

We followed her into their huge living room where balloons covered the ceiling and a bunch of people who looked exactly like Abigail were sitting around, laughing, eating appetizers, and dancing around the room. The energy of the place was explosive. Over the fireplace was a huge banner that read, “
Abbi’s CF Party!”

Abigail walked up to us, still doing that weird normal walking pace thing and still wearing normal clothes. She smiled big. “Hey! Thanks for coming. Follow me and you can put your coats in my bedroom, come on.”

We all eyed one another, but did as she said and followed her toward her room. Abigail’s bedroom walls were covered in the same positive quotes that she spouted off to us daily.

“You can toss your coats onto my bed. Then we can go—”

“Time out,” Simon cut in. “What’s a CF party exactly?”

Abigail’s eyes fell to Simon’s, and she shrugged, nonchalant. “A cancer-free party.”

“Why the heck would you have a—” Simon lowered his brows and shook his head back and forth. “Wait, what?”

“Abigail, you have cancer?” Aria blurted out, her eyes wide with confusion.

I was the only one who knew this already, but the shock that filled Simon’s and Aria’s faces made my stomach flip.

“Had. As of a few days ago, we just found out that it’s all—”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Simon shouted, his body tense, his fists tightened. “WHAT IN THE GODDAMN HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU HAD CANCER?!”

He was fuming, moments away from falling apart.

“What does it matter?” Abigail asked, raising a brow. “Why are you so upset? It’s gone.”

Simon huffed and puffed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Right. So that just makes it okay? So the way we find out that you had cancer is at a freaking cancer-free party with yellow and purple effing balloons?!”

“They’re my favorite colors,” Abigail explained, blinking rapidly. “I don’t understand why you’re so mad. I invited you to the party.”

He pounded his fist against his mouth and shouted, “How fucking considerate!” He hurried out of the room, kicking the few yellow and purple balloons that were floating around the ground.

After Simon stormed out of Abigail’s room, I followed him to make sure he was all right.

He wasn’t. He stood in the living room with her family, popping and kicking as many balloons as possible. I gave Abigail’s family a tight smile, grabbed Simon’s arm, and pulled him out of the house.

Simon stood on the front porch, pacing, shouting as if he were still fighting with Abigail. “How could you be so fucking selfish?!” he screamed. “A cancer-free party when no one knew you had
cancer
?!”

“Si,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. He hastily turned to face me.

“Can you believe that?! Who would do that to someone?!” His nostrils flared as he went back to his quick pacing.

“She’s okay, though. The cancer’s gone.”

“
But what if she wasn’t?!
” he cried, slamming his body down to sit on the top step of the porch. The palms of his hands brushed against his brow before he stared forward. “What if she wasn’t okay? You don’t understand. One day my sister was there, and then she wasn’t. Would it have been like that with Abigail? Would we have just walked into school, expecting to hear her quote some random old guy at our table but then she would’ve never shown up? And then would the principal get on the loud speaker and tell us that one of our classmates met an untimely death due to her battle with cancer? Gah! That girl pisses me off so damn much!”

I sat down beside him, staring forward also. We sat there until his breathing slowed, and his anger subsided. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with his T-shirt, then said, “It’s weird the way you can walk by people every single day of your life and never truly know their story.”

“I wasn’t supposed to stop,” Abigail said, standing in her doorway. “Nobody really messes with you when you’re the weird girl who dresses funny. I was supposed to keep moving nonstop, finding my way through day after day, never taking a break, never stopping to notice things. Because when you notice things, you start realizing how much you’re missing out on and when you realize how much you’re missing out on, you’ll get sad that you’re dying because you are going to miss so much. And once you’re sad, you get depressed, and you have to do everything you can to stay positive during cancer because your parents already cry enough and you already feel bad daily, so you remind yourself to keep moving, keep busy, keep fighting, but you can’t allow anyone else into your tiny bubble because you don’t need anyone else to feel bad for you.

“But then I made a mistake on my way to the bathroom, and I saw Aria taking things off of her locker, and she looked so sad. So I stopped. Even though I shouldn’t have.” Her eyes fell to Simon and she softly spoke, “And then I saw you, too.”

Simon hadn’t looked at Abigail once since she started speaking. He was staring at his tennis shoes, tapping his feet repeatedly.

“Simon,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I know.”

He stood up, loosened his shoulders, and walked toward Abigail. She parted her lips to speak again, but was stopped when Simon pressed his lips against hers. At first, Abigail was thrown off by Simon’s sudden embrace, but it only took a few seconds before she started kissing him back.

Way to go, Simon.

There was a freedom that washed over Abigail after she realized she’d cheated death. Life shone through her. She laughed differently. She smiled differently. She
was
different.

That night we all danced around the living room, tossing balloons, eating too much cake, and laughing too hard. We were all small parts of Abigail’s soundtrack that night, adding to the vibrant feel of joy, happiness, and the idea of tomorrow.

As I watched Aria spin with Abigail, giggling like fools, my chest tightened when I locked eyes with Aria. Her smile faded.

Her lips parted as her eyes filled with guilt.

It wasn’t fair of me to somewhat feel pity for myself and Dad’s situation while Abigail was so happy. I shouldn’t have been so selfish.

But truthfully, I felt awful.

So I hurried away to the bathroom for a breather.

“
I
’m fine
,” I said, turning to see Aria in the doorway of the bathroom. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“I’m happy for her,” I said, nodding once. “I really am, it’s just…a part of me wishes it was my Dad’s party.” I clasped my hands behind my neck. “We shouldn’t be talking.”

“Just one minute, Levi.”

We stood still for sixty seconds.

I counted each and every second.

Time traveled way faster than I wanted it to.

One minute was up and we had to go back to the place where we didn’t talk, where we pretended that we didn’t feel the things we knew we felt. She turned away and left the room, giving me the few moments that I needed to feel a little disappointed.

The world didn’t make sense and it was far from fair. It tipped in favor of some, while others struggled daily to keep their heads above water. I’d watched a family fall apart over a new life being brought into the world, while another couldn’t have children. I’d seen one family celebrate their victory against cancer while I watched illness sweep away the chance of a future with my dad. The world was often ugly and painful, filled with hate, sadness, and despair. But Aria? She made sense in a senseless world.

She was the rainbow to my everlasting thunderstorms.