Elevated (7 page)

Her disheveled hair.

She might have been pretty in earlier years,

Before the unwanted son,

Before the string of dead-end jobs,

Before the drugs.

Trav’s mom dropped her bag,

Kicked off her shoes,

Shuffled down the hall into the bathroom.

She moved with exhaustion,

Like the world weighed her down.

I had the door open and one foot in the hall before Trav asked,

“Roof, midnight?”

MIDNIGHT DIDN’T CARE ABOUT MY NERVES,

My questions,

My guilt.

It came and went,

And I still hadn’t ducked through the window to the fire escape.

Should I?

I shouldn’t.

I knew I shouldn’t.

Why not?

When I asked myself that,

I decided.

Honesty was why not,

But she wasn’t here for Trav.

He needed someone.

AFTER WE MET,

After we viewed the night sky through tinted lenses,

After we talked about his mother,

Jesse,

My dad.

After he kissed me urgently,

Hungrily,

Like we might be able to make up for the kiss-less week apart,

I’d crawled through the window,

Shut and latched it.

Then Mom said,

“Eleanor Livingston, where have you been?”

I LOST MY FREEDOM

Because of a rooftop kiss.

I lost my freedom

Because Mom refused to let me stay home alone.

I lost my freedom

Because Mom suddenly knew all my grades,

Screened the phone calls,

Switched her shift to days so she could be home at night.

Then she scheduled

A Skype chat

With

Dad.

EVEN THEN, MOM WORE LINES ON HER FACE,

Trenches filled with worry for my dad,

Love for my little brothers,

Concern over me and whether or not I would turn out okay,

If we were safe while she saved lives at the hospital.

She looked so much like me.

Light features,

Thick hair,

Deep, blue pools for eyes.

Eyes that searched,

Watched,

Noticed every little thing,

Like mine.

“Mrs. Hostettler isn’t doing well,” Mom said,

Wiping the counter after dinner

While I put away the leftovers.

She talked about her patients

Like they were people I should know,

People I should care about,

People I should cry over.

She did those things.

She monitored more than their health,

Took them flowers,

Read to them if no one came to visit.

She knew if they were having a good day or not,

Just by looking.

I wondered what she saw when she looked at me.

Could she tell I’d changed after Travis kissed me?

She didn’t act like she could.

She sighed over Mrs. Hostettler,

Parked herself in front of the TV,

Patted the cushion for me to join her,

Fell asleep ten minutes later.

I turned the volume down low,

Watched reruns until it was time to put the twins to bed,

Snuck the phone into my room at midnight,

Whispered with Trav.

Mom,

Who could see every little change in her patients,

Slept on.

MAYBE MOM DID NOTICE.

She made me change if my shorts were too short,

Or my makeup too dark.

Working on the day shift,

She made dinner,

Checked backpacks,

Made sure we all bathed.

She questioned me about my grades,

My extra-curricular activities,

My job,

My boyfriend.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said,

Twirling the spaghetti around my fork,

Hoping she’d let it go.

“You snuck to the roof to meet him,” Mom said.

“What do you call him?”

“He’s…” I couldn’t finish.

I didn’t know what Travis was.

She squeezed my hand,

Like she knew the inner turmoil I felt

At not having a proper label for Travis.

She let the subject drop,

Bit her garlic bread,

Asked the twins about music class.

I caught her watching me during dinner,

Knew she saw the intake of breath when the phone rang,

The twitch of my hands when Trav left a message,

When I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply at the simple sound of his voice.

NOW THAT SAME VOICE FILLS THE ELEVATOR

With pleading,

With hurt,

With anger.

He must be so,

So angry.

I hear it in the silence,

See it in the accusation in his eyes,

Feel it in the way his breathing steadies without the pressure of my hand against his.

He’s found a way to exist without me,

Because I pushed him away,

Stopped answering his calls,

Refused to speak to him.

He’s found a way to exist without me,

Though he doesn’t fully understand why I’ve cut him off,

Why I avoid this elevator.

I hardly understand the things I’ve done.

He’s found a way to exist without me.

I wish I could say the same.

But I’m still trying to figure out how to survive one more class,

One more minute,

One more breath,

Without him.

California keeps me sane,

A promise of something new,

An escape from the past.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Trav packs the hurt into six words

The way my dad packed his concern into the Skype conversation.

“Sometimes we don’t get what we want.”
My words crowd the elevator,

Sting me as much as him.

Because I know their truth better than anyone.

After all, I’d had to see my father wearing his captain’s bars,

Had to tell him I wasn’t being responsible,

Helpful,

Brave.

Had to hear him say,

“Best friends with benefits.”

I’D NEVER BEEN ABLE TO LOOK AT DADDY

For more than fifteen seconds before my secrets spilled out.

During the Skype chat he said, “Elly,”

And the empty spaces in my heart tore,

Tears formed in my eyes,

Guilt cascaded through my stomach.

“Hey, Daddy.”

He wore his brown camouflage,

His hair cropped short,

A smile.

I grinned at his image on the computer,

But it felt useless,

Useless,

Useless.

“You been bein’ good, Honeybee?”

“No, sir.”

The words just came out.

The tears weren’t far behind.

His eyebrows creased.

“Well, what’s been goin’ on?”

I blinked,

Tears ran in paths down my cheeks.

“I kissed Travis.”

My voice sounded tiny,

Childlike.

“Travis on the fourteenth floor?

Travis?”

I nodded,

Noted the surprise in his voice,

Burst into words.

“I like him, Daddy. And well, I’m not supposed to and I snuck out to meet him and I think he still has a girlfriend and Mom’s freaking out over nothing and I can’t do anything without her watching me breathe.”

I inhaled as if it were the first time in weeks,

My chest shuddering with the effort.

Dad let a few seconds pass in silence,

Leaned forward,

Looked straight into the camera

Half a world away.

“Elly, you listen real good.

Your Mama’s just tryin’ to protect you.”

I wished I could be the girl

Who told her mom everything,

Who went on girls’ shopping trips,

Had spa days,

Got along.

I wished I could fight with my dad instead of her.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So you look at me.

You tell me what I should be worried about.”

I swiped at my tears,

Looked at him,

Really looked.

“Nothing, Dad. Really.

Just a little kissing, I swear.”

He leaned back,

Wore a hint of disapproval around his mouth,

Folded his arms.

“Well, what does a little kissin’ lead to, Eleanor?”

I dropped my gaze to my hands,

Wilted under the use of my full name.

“A lot of kissing, sir.”

“Exactly. And that’s why your Mom’s worried.”

“Are you worried?”

“About you, Elly?

Always and forever.”

ALWAYS AND FOREVER

Is a big, fat lie.

Boys can tell you they love you

“Always and forever,”

When they don’t.

Just for that kiss,

That favor.

Best friends can claim it’s

“Forever,”

When really it’s just until they grow tired of putting up with you.

Parents can toss “always and forever” around

Like they mean it,

When really, they can’t guarantee anything.

I’d told Travis “always and forever” once,

And look at us now.

Caged in this elevator,

Secrets thick as cement,

Silence suffocating us both.

IN THREE WEEKS, I’LL BE LEAVING,

Forging a new path where no one knows me,

Where no one whispers about me,

Where I don’t have to eat lunch in the drama wing

Just so I won’t have to see Travis,

Won’t have to hear my dad’s voice claim

“Best friends with benefits.”

“IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, DAD,”

I’d said, fear clamping its iron grip around my heart.

“Well, has he taken you out on a date?” Dad asked,

Voice too low,

Eyebrows too high.

“Sir?”

“A date, Elly. Seems to me if the boy wanted

To be your boyfriend, he’d take you out on a date.

Otherwise…”

I CUT OFF THE MEMORY THERE,

Unwilling to hear Dad say the dirty words in my mind,

But they echo in my ears anyway.

Best friend with benefits.

He should be takin’ you out on dates before kissin’ you, Elly.

No more kissin’ unless it’s after a date, got it?

The thought of a real date with Travis had made my hands shake,

My head light,

My lips tingle.

Keep your lips to yourself for a while.

Back in my room, I’d hidden beside my bed,

Watched the shadows deepen across the carpet.

Couldn’t believe I’d just told Daddy about kissing Trav.

Couldn’t believe what he’d said about Trav.

What hurt the most: Daddy was right.

Mom never came to get me for dinner,

And I played “Tell him or Tell him not.”

The game decided:

Tell him.

I couldn’t kiss Travis unless he took me out on a date.

THE CORNER OF THE ELEVATOR

Traps my thoughts,

Circles them back to me,

A loop I can’t escape.

“Hey, come back over here.”

Travis’s words are thick with emotion.

“You should’ve broken up with her before she left for the summer,” I say,

Wishing I could leave Honesty out of the conversation,

Wishing everything didn’t come back to her,

Wishing I’d been as brave as Daddy had asked me to be.

“I know that. You have no idea how much I know that.”

I look at him,

Find him examining his hands,

Find the pea pod salad resting near his feet.

“Then why didn’t you?”

He exhales,

His body collapses as if he’s lost his bones along with the air inside his lungs.

“I tried so many times.”

He meets my gaze through the dim light,

Rubs his hands together as if cold.

“There never seemed to be a good time, you know?”

Laughter bubbles out of my throat,

The sound hollow,

Empty.

“Right. Never a good time.

But New Year’s was a good time?

You and Honesty had been broken up for months by then.”

“There never would’ve been a good time to tell her about us. But I figured—”

He stops suddenly,

Looks straight at me in that needful way of his,

Like he can see through my skin,

Under my muscles,

Straight to my soul.

“I figured you couldn’t wait anymore.”

Acknowledge when someone does something for you.

Dr. Tickson’s voice booms in my head.

Recognize when you’re not alone.

Dr. Tickson never understood that I
wanted
to be alone,

That I didn’t want to explain why I needed to eenie-meenie every decision,

That I locked my words deep inside on purpose.