Dear Jon (17 page)

“If I make it back, General Tso’s Chicken is on me. And if you ever come to New York, I’ll take you to the best hot dog cart in the city.”

“Perfect.” She faces me, arms stretched out for a hug. I put her blanket on the car and pull her into me tightly. “Thank you, Jon.”

“Thank you, Audrey. I’ll never forget you.”

“Ditto,” she says, patting my back twice before letting go. Her eyes glisten as she looks up at me. I lean in to kiss her cheek.

“Take care,” I whisper.

“I will.” She grabs the blanket and walks up to her front door, turning back once before going in to wave goodbye.

I love you, Jon.

I kick off my tennis shoes and push them into the closet before turning off the overhead light and lying down on my bed. The lamp on the desk illuminates just enough of the room for me to keep reading.

Valentine’s Day 2.0. Remember?

Livvy had been grounded on the romantic holiday after we had fallen asleep together in her bed, so we celebrated two days later. We renamed the day to commemorate that, as well as to signify it was our second Valentine’s Day together.

It worked out in our favor. It was much easier to get reservations to a decent restaurant, and it allowed us a full day to celebrate instead of just meeting together on a school night. It was insufferably cold that day, too, which kept a lot of people at home on a Saturday.

Not us, though.

I met her at her house around noon, where she greeted me with a thermos of hot chocolate. She was bundled up and ready to leave, dressed in a quilted black coat, a flared black skirt, black tights and black knee-high boots laced up with a black bow that tied mid-calf in the back. Around her neck was a dyed scarf with reds, oranges and pinks. Her lipstick matched it, as did two tiny barrettes that kept her hair off her face.

“Do you think you’ll be warm enough?” I had asked her, glancing down her body and stopping at her knee, where I could see the hint of a dark freckle through her leggings.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, then pointed at different articles of clothing. “Quilted and layered,” she said, “wool and leather.”

I kissed her even though her parents sat in the adjoining living room watching us. “Your legs are going to be cold,” I whispered.

“We’ll run.” And after walking for three blocks on the way to MoMA, we did run the rest of the way, even though there were plenty of cabs to take us to the exhibit we’d both wanted to see. She was happy to be ungrounded, feeling totally free.

I had so much fun with you, recreating the romantic works of art that were on display that weekend. ‘Couples in Love’ was the perfect collection for us, because I felt so in love that day.

The museum was featuring works of art that celebrated romantic love between two people. It was a brilliant marketing effort, and I’d heard that, on Valentine’s Day, they had offered candlelight dinners in various parts of the museum to elite members.

It was perfect that most people didn’t want to fight the bitter cold, because it gave us time to enjoy ourselves in public, privately. The only pictures snapped of us were taken with our cameras: selfies of us kissing, or silly pictures of us as we posed in front of outrageous works of art.

I printed out the one of you by the bronze sculpture, where you were whispering in the ear of the girl statue, talking her out of accepting the obvious proposal of the boy statue on one knee.

“He’s emotionless,” you’d told her, “and cold hearted.”

I smile, remembering what came next. “Let me show you how it’s done,” I’d said, then gestured for Olivia to join me by the sculpture. She posed next to it, mimicking the girl’s surprised expression. I kneeled down in front of her, and snapped a picture of her, wanting to remember what she’d look like when it came time to propose someday. I took her hand in mine as she propped up her oversized purse.

“Olivia?”

“Yes?” she’d said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Will you… give me another sip of hot chocolate? Please?” I’d begged. She laughed, handing me her bag. After glancing around to make sure we were alone, I got out the thermos and took a drink of the still-warm beverage. When I stood up, she had taken off her coat, and was wearing a beautiful flowered top that had the same colors of her scarf with black stripes. It was form fitting, and after she handed me her coat to carry, I admired her perfect figure momentarily before setting everything I’d been holding on the floor and pulling her into my body. I kissed her as I imagined the couple in the statue would have kissed after the girl said yes to her suitor.

“A chocolate kiss,” Livvy whispered as she pulled away, licking her lips. “Can I have another?”

“Gladly,” I had said with my lips already pressed against hers. We’d kissed deeply until we heard voices approaching.

I can’t help but wonder if that’s what’s happened to you. Have I caused you to shy away from your emotions? Did my actions harden your heart? Is that why you won’t write me back?

If you don’t love me anymore, Jon, please tell me so. I admittedly want your love. After what I did, though, I could accept your hatred. What I can’t deal with is your indifference to this situation. Do you feel nothing for me? Nothing at all?

Her question is aptly placed, because I remember the conversation we’d had at the restaurant that night, two days after Valentine’s Day. After I’d told her where we were going for dinner earlier in the week, she had made further arrangements to make sure we had a private area. One had been set up on the second floor, where there was only room for a table for two on the side of the staircase. The area was hidden from the rest of the room by a stained glass wall that cast the most beautiful colors on her face as she ate.

She had told me she loved me as we ate dessert. It was a delicate chocolate mousse that I fed her from across the small table. The sweet decadence inspired countless more chocolate kisses that night. I told her that the words ‘I love you’ weren’t enough for me to express my feelings to her.

“I feel
everything
for you, Olivia,” I’d told her. “With every ounce of my being, with all my heart and soul, I am full of the greatest affections, passions, and emotions that any man has ever felt for any woman… any time in the history of the world.”

She stood up, putting her napkin in her chair, and held her hand out, palm up. I took it in mine and joined her next to the table. We kissed passionately, eventually releasing hands and innocently exploring one another’s bodies with them. I backed her against the wall, so thankful we’d had a little privacy in that moment because I needed it as much as I needed her.

Realizing where we were–still in a restaurant, even though the waiters had agreed to leave us after we’d paid the tab–we slowed down, eventually leaning against one another breathing heavily, trying to figure out where we could go to be truly alone.

It didn’t happen for us that night.

I’m losing hope. I’d thought I could make you see how I still feel about you through these letters. Everything. I feel everything.

Have I lost you? If so, I will always live with regret for what I did to you… but I hope I haven’t made you into that bronze statue. Cold. Emotionless. I hope you can love again. I hope it’s me that you love, but if not, I want you to have love, regardless.

Heart

Will and Ellen had planned to go on another date after their religion class on Wednesday night, and I’d told my brother I would drive him to the restaurant he’d chosen. After an exhausting day at work, a part of me wishes my mother could have driven them around, but another part of me wants to see how my brother is progressing in this relationship. It had only been a few weeks, but he was all in. He even took a couple of pink roses with him to class to give to her. It was his idea.

As I wait for their class to end, I decide to read Livvy’s latest work. There’s a warm breeze flitting through the open windows, so I hold onto the letter with both hands, making sure it doesn’t fly away. With one of the interior lamps broken in the car, it’s not easy to make out her words.

I love you, Jon.

While I was on Spring Break in Wyoming, I’d hoped every day you would find a way to visit me from Utah. Admittedly, I was high on Vicodin for a good part of my trip, but it didn’t seem like a complete impossibility. Eight hours kept us apart… if we had both driven, it would have only been four.

I should have found a way to make that happen. I never wanted to spend the week off from school away from you. It would be the second Spring Break without you.

We were broken up during the first one. I had begged my parents to let me stay behind while the rest of my family went on their annual vacation, but they instead decided to stay home with me. They were worried about me, but they wanted to support my healing, and my painting.

This year, I made the first of many mistakes by allowing Finn to kiss me. It was brief, but it changed us… and it made our friendship more comfortable as we shared a secret with one another that no one else knew about.

I remember how she’d admitted to
actually
kissing him in an earlier letter. Had I known he’d succeeded at his attempt back then, I think I would have punched him a lot harder in the airport that day when we all got back to Manhattan.

As it turns out, I guess Spring Break is really what lead up to the
real
break. You had a taste of a functional family life, and Finn and I grew closer after that. It makes me wonder if you already knew back then that you were leaving me for the summer. Had you already made arrangements? And why in the world wouldn’t you tell me sooner–as soon as you’d known?

Why did you make such a big decision without me? I’m beginning to see that you were having doubts long before I realized it. Maybe you really did want to break up. Maybe you just didn’t want to be the one to do it… and then I made it so easy for you to walk away.

Or was it already going to be easy for you?

I knew early on that a little separation would be good for us. After all, the week apart in the spring–regardless of what happened with Finn–seemed to create more intimacy and trust in our relationship. When I got home, one glimpse of her reminded me of just how deeply I loved her. I felt more committed at the time.

But walking away from her was never in the plans; had it been, I know it would not have been easy. Just telling her about the temporary split I was planning was horrifying to me. I knew she wouldn’t take it well. I didn’t want her to be angry with me, but I’d hoped we would stay in touch over the summer, exchanging daily affirmations of love while she continued painting and getting back to the place she belonged. I’d envisioned the sweet reunion when I got home. I’d even made arrangements with Fred before I left to have the dorm to myself for a night before school started up again.

That would no longer be necessary.

We’d spent Spring Break apart. I broke your trust. You broke up with me. We are so broken right now.

We… aren’t finished, are we?

A sudden pang emanates from my gut as I read her line. It’s changed. Her confidence in us is shaken.

But what
are
we now? If we aren’t finished, what are we?

Break

We aren’t what we used to be. We would never be
that
again.

“Let me in,” my brother says, trying the handle from outside the car. Before I can unlock the door, he reaches in through window and opens it himself, slumping into the seat next to me. I look at the building’s door to see other kids his age streaming outside, and I see Ellen walking with another guy. “Can you go?”

“Aren’t we waiting for–”

“No, we’re not,” he says, tossing the two flowers he’d brought with him out the window. “Just drive, okay?” he instructs me angrily.

“Home?” I ask.

“I don’t want to go home yet.”

I start the car and roll up the windows, giving him a few minutes to cool off. I decide to drive up to the worksite where I’d spent most of my summer days, always wanting to see it at night, where there’s no ambient light to wash out the stars. I stop on the way to grab a couple of sodas and a bag of Will’s favorite chips. He hasn’t eaten… he was too nervous before his class tonight to even have a little snack, and his dinner plans have obviously been canceled.

I park the car near the large, etched rock, leaving the parking lights on. “Come on, let’s go check out the moon.” I hand him the bag of snacks and reach in the back seat to grab something for us to sit on. “Towels are very important things,” I say to him as I toss one his way. He catches it with ease, even with one arm full, and I see a glimpse of a smile on his face in the dim light.

After we settle in on a hillside, he munches on his chips while I consume nearly my entire soda in one drink. I lie back, adjusting my glasses and looking at the sky above us.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks me.

“Anything. You know that.”

“Max wanted to know that since there is no known life on the planets in our solar system, who is there to turn on the lights at night.”

I laugh a little. Ever since our trip to the zoo, Max has been obsessed with extraterrestrials… and he was asking very silly questions.

“What’d you tell him?”

“I corrected him and said that–while there may be no life like we know it on the other planets–there could still be some kind of life that we don’t understand. I mean, what is the unknown, but things we don’t yet know? Right?”

I’m impressed by my brother’s line of thinking. “Right. Did you tell Max that?”

“Yeah.”

“What was his reaction?”

“He couldn’t grasp that concept.”

“Didn’t think so,” I tell Will. “But how did you explain the light?”

“I told him that the planets don’t emit light, but what we see is just what is reflected from the sun.”

“Good answer.” I smile at him proudly. He finishes his chips and takes a drink, then lies down on his towel a few feet away from me. “Know how to tell a planet from a star?”

“Yeah,” he says, but doesn’t answer.

“Yeah? Point out a planet,” I challenge him.

“There are so many stars here,” he says in awe. “It’s weird to think the same stars are above us in New York. You’d never know that, from what we can see from the streets…”

“What is the unknown, but things we don’t yet know?” I respond to him with his own statement.

“Exactly,” he says. “It’s beautiful. Oh, and there’s Mars, to the left of the moon.” He points at the planet that I’d already been focusing on. It’s the most obvious one in the sky tonight with its close proximity to our satellite. “Stars twinkle,” he finally answers. “Planets don’t.”

“Can you spot Jupiter?”

“I don’t think it’s visible tonight.”

“Sure it is… it’s in Gemini. Up there?” I point to the western sky at the brightest planet. “See it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Will says, and I can hear him smiling.

“If you’re still here next year when you turn sixteen and decide to get your license, you need to bring Max out and show him this sometime. In fact, you should get Mom to take you both,” I suggest.

“Yeah… okay.”

“Cool.”

“Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“If there is life like we know it on other planets in another part of the universe, do you think they have one without girls on it?”

“Uhhh… if there is such a planet, I don’t think I would want to go there,” I tell him with a slight chuckle. “Why would you wonder that?”

“Girls suck.”

“What’d Ellen do?” I ask him. “Why aren’t you at Philmont’s right now?”

“She thinks this idiot wrestler at her school who never paid attention to her before we started hanging out is
the one
.”

“The one, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s a dumb concept anyway,” he says bitterly.

“I’m not sure I’d call it dumb. It’s a romantic concept.”

“Romance is dumb,” he responds. “I really liked Ellen. She was cool… and I thought she was smart, too, but if she likes that guy, then… maybe I was wrong about her.

“But, like… she kissed me last weekend.
She
kissed
me
! A lot!”

“At the movies?” I ask, remembering back to the many dates I’d been on with Livvy that ended with us making out in an empty auditorium. I’d even mentioned a few of the dates to my brother when I’d come home from them, still high on
her
.

“Yeah. It was awesome,” he laments. “Like
foreplay
,” he adds.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I tell him. “Did you have sex with her?”

“No…”

“Then it wasn’t foreplay,” I whisper. “You were making out.”

“Same difference,” he says.

“Sure,” I agree, not wanting to split hairs.

“How could she do that with me, and then be someone else’s girlfriend a few days later?
Why
would she do that to me?”

“First of all, she’s not as smart as you thought she was, because I have no doubt she could do no better than you. Secondly, Will… girls will break your heart. Ellen may be the first, but she won’t be the last.”

“It hurts,” he says, and I can hear something catch in his throat. “Why would anyone subject themselves to this?”

“Oh, man,” I say with reverence. “Because people can make you love in such extraordinary ways that the feelings they evoke in you can last for years… maybe even a lifetime. After wading through the pain, if the love was pure and good, that will be the thing you remember most.”

“Why does it hurt like this, though? It’s not fair! I’m so mad at her!”

“I know, Will, believe me, I know. It hurts because you allowed yourself to care for her… maybe it was the beginnings of love. You put down your guard. You became vulnerable. It’s part of trusting another human being with your affections.

“I like to equate it to Newton’s Third Law… do you know what that is?”

“No,” he says after a quiet sniffle. I don’t look over at him.

“
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
It may not sound like it relates to this, but think about it… if you’re allowed to love someone so much… for the pendulum to swing so far in the direction of another person… if they let go, something has to fill that space that once carried that love. It can be pain… anger… hatred… just something that’s in opposition to love.

“But it won’t stay forever. Because what does a pendulum do?”

“It swings.”

“Right. Love returns. Whether you let the pendulum swing as far next time, well… that’s up to you. If you don’t allow yourself to love someone with all your heart, it won’t hurt so bad if it ends. But the good times won’t be as fulfilling, either.”

“Will you hold your pendulum back next time?” he asks me.

I’d loved Olivia as deeply as I could… and even after all the pain and anger, I want that again. Maybe I’m a masochist, I don’t know.

“No,” I answer. “For me, I’ve had a taste of the best of everything… and I don’t want anything less for myself.”

“Do you think you can find that with another girl? With someone other than Livvy?”

I think about his question for a minute before sitting up and taking off my glasses, allowing the lights in the distance to blur. I wipe my eyes and sigh.

“No, Will. I don’t.”

“Are you going to take her back?” he asks excitedly.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I need a fresh start… but I only want that fresh start to be with her. I don’t know how to make that happen.”

“I hope you
do
take her back.”

I smile, thinking of having her back in my life and back in my arms, my bed. I want those things more than anything.

“Hey,” I say, changing the subject. “Before you met this girl, Ellen, didn’t you say there was someone else you liked? Someone at your school?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Laila. She’s the one who wrote her number in my yearbook.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“She’s a pretty girl,” he says. “And she was the only person to get a better grade than I did in English. Plus, we were the last two standing in dodge ball.”

“Why didn’t you call her?” I ask him.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I was scared I wouldn’t know what to say…”

“Well, now you have a whole summer of experiences to talk about. Don’t let this Ellen girl get you down for too long. So you weren't
the one
for her… so what? You know what she
did
do for you?”

“What?”

“She gave you confidence to approach a girl, to ask her out on a date, to go out on a few dates with her, to make out with her… so look at all that you have to bring into your next relationship. It may hurt now, but she’s helped to prepare you for the next one… maybe the
right
one… although not
the
one because that’s a dumb concept.”

“Do you believe in that?” he asks me.

“I don’t think I did when Livvy and I started dating… but somewhere along the line, yeah. I started to believe.”

“So is she the one?”

“The girl I left behind at the beginning of summer isn’t… but I haven’t really met this woman she’s becoming. Her letters tell me she’s changed. She seems different to me.

“And I think, yeah, she has the potential to be the one. But we have a lot of ground to cover before we get there.”

We both lie back once more, quietly observing the vastness of the world around us. I think about how great it is, and begin to think the concept may be silly after all, like Will says it is. What are the chances of
my one
being this person I met by chance when I was only a child in my small but diverse city? When there are so many other options on this planet, and likely beyond…