How To Get Your Heart Broken (6 page)

Your Lips Are Moving But I Don’t Hear Shit

Rachel came
home in the wee hours of the morning. Ash had been long asleep, thinking I was
too. But I was too lost in thought to sleep, and I was completely in my own
world until, like a hurricane that destroyed everything in its wake, Rachel
burst through the front door and slammed into me in the midst of her drunken
stumble.

She was a
mess. She couldn’t stand straight and her hair was stuck to her forehead with
sweat. She would have thrown up all over the couch if I hadn’t rushed to get a
trash can in front of her. I couldn’t understand any of her muttering, broken
up by deep sobs, like she was gasping for air. I could imagine she felt
something like the way I did; it was the only thing that drove me to comfort
her, despite the lingering feeling of betrayal.

I sat
there, meticulously pulling her hair from her eyes and lifting the trash can up
to her face whenever she needed it. I shushed her murmuring and let her cry
until she grew tired. Somehow, I managed to get her to bed before the sun came
up. I left water and Advil by her nightstand and shut the door, knowing she
probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning. I was glad for it.

---

We all
avoided each other for a while, navigating the house like we were in some
strange, twisted version of Pacman. For three days it remained eerily quiet,
the only notable sounds being the ones I normally ignored; the sound of the
shower, the creak of a step, the
ding
of
the microwave.

I wondered
how long it would go on, who would break the silence first. I would have bet on
Ashton, except she seemed angry with both Rachel
and
me. And so we kept to ourselves, three strangers that happened
to be living in the same house. I was struck by the humor of that, surely no
other set of strangers in the history of the Earth had had so much animosity
towards each other.
 

I thought
of the irony of the situation, the fact that when I’d left
Ryan
behind, I thought I was leaving behind the betrayals and
drama. He’d left me with a fear of weakness that I’d managed to control until
Rachel opened her mouth. So, facing Jessie was the last thing I wanted to do.
But, for so many reasons now, it was the only thing to do.

So here I
was once again at his doorstep, thinking that I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted
to take a restraining order out on me. But this visit had nothing to do with
our game. I wasn’t sure what the point was, exactly. Maybe I thought he needed
an explanation. For some reason
I
was
supposed to be the one to give it.

I knocked
quietly, a part of me hoping he wouldn’t answer. Still, I took a deep breath
and knocked again, more forcefully this time.
 

When he
opened the door, I noticed that his usual obnoxious smirk was gone, in its
place a fairly serious expression. Somehow this made me uncomfortable, and
oddly enough I found myself wishing that smirk would come back. I didn’t like
the way he looked at me, like he felt
sorry
for me.

“Hey?” It
sounded more like a question than a greeting, but I tried to smile anyway. He
closed the door behind him and motioned for me to join him on the porch swing.

Neither of
us knew what to say, and we sat in an uncomfortable silence for what felt like
an eternity.

“Eli?”

I turned to
look at him, feeling both anxious about what he was going to say next and
startled by the interruption of the silence.

“What are
you doing here?” I could hear that it was curiosity that drove him to the
question, rather than anything else, and the realization kept me from getting
too offended.

I sighed,
thinking about it. “I don’t know.”

He nodded.
It was silent again.

“I’m
sorry.”
 

I raised an
eyebrow in surprise, waiting for him to continue.

“Rachel,
she’s a real bi‒”

“Stop,” I
whispered sternly.

“Are you
serious? She‒”

“Don’t.
It’s complicated,” I sighed.

“Are you
really going to defend her? After everything she said?”

I could
sense curiosity being overtaken by frustration. He, just like many others
before him, could not understand the relationship Rachel and I had.

“It’s
really none of your business!” I felt myself getting angry. I could feel his
eyes on me for a long time. It seemed like there was something he wanted to
say, but he decided against it.

“You’re
right,” he said resignedly. “You don’t have to explain anything you don’t want
to.”

“No,” I
relented with a sigh. “It’s okay. You can ask.”

I could
hear his reluctance, even as he finally spoke. “Was it all true?”

I’d already
prepared myself for this conversation. I was amazed by how little a difference
it made.

“All of my
issues
?” I laughed humorlessly. I
avoided his eyes like my life depended on it. It felt as if it did.
  

“Yeah,” I
said quietly.

“Oh…okay,”
he said. I wondered if he felt as stupid as he sounded, having said the worst
thing he could have said.

“Well…I’m
sorry, about your…
issues
.”

“Um,
thanks?”

“You’re
welcome,” he replied.

He
scratched his head, his hair becoming increasingly more disheveled as he
continued.

I sighed,
standing up quickly, “You know what? I’m gonna go.”

“Wait…Eli,”
I heard him call when I was already halfway back to our island.

I turned
around. I could tell he had already changed his mind again on whatever he was
going to say.

“Bye.” He
waved.

I rushed
back to the house, trying to make sense of his useless words. I hadn’t expected
our conversation to go the way it did. But there was this nagging voice in my
head asking; “What
did
you expect
Eli? What did you want?”

---

Some days
are made for confrontation. Well, that was the conclusion I came to when I
found Ash sitting on my bed.

“We need to
talk,” she said when I walked in. I smiled and joined her, wanting to forget
the encounter I had just had.

“You
first,” I said.

“Okay…are
you okay?”

“I’m fine,”
I nodded in surprise.

She
hesitated.

“I’m
okay…really,” I tried to smile.

“Okay,” she
said again, sighing.

“I’m sorry
I didn’t tell you, Ash,” I said quietly. I knew I couldn’t blame her for being
angry, but the only reason I was actually sorry was because I’d hurt her.

She nodded,
“Okay, but why…?”

“Didn’t I
tell you?”
 

She nodded
again.

“I didn’t
tell anyone really, Rachel kind of just… found out.”

“Okay, I
guess…” She added, “Are you, o
kay?
”

I raised an
eyebrow.

“I mean,
with eating…” She rambled awkwardly.

“Ash that
was a really long time ago. I’m fine now.”
 

She nodded
again.
 
She was silent for a while.

“Is it
true…you felt sorry for me?” She asked hesitantly, adhering to her unfortunate
habit of asking questions she didn’t really want the answer to.

I sighed,
“What do you want me to say Ash? Of course I felt bad…”

I thought
of all the days she ate lunch alone. The way no one seemed to notice her in the
halls, as if they could just walk through her. And she seemed to buy into the
idea of her own invisibility, trying to make herself as small as possible,
apologizing for her own existence with every move she made and every word she
spoke.

I looked up
to see the tears threatening to spill.
 
“But…” I tried to say quickly, “You’re not some charity case…you’re my
best friend…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not
mad,” she said, wiping the tears from her face. “I…I just wonder how I ended up
being
that
girl. Like there’s
something wrong with me…”

I couldn’t
understand what she said after that, but I hugged her anyway, nodding
periodically to give her the impression that I understood. I hugged her until
she finally stopped sobbing. She pulled away, delicately brushing droplets from
her eyelashes, “I’m sorry. I feel so stupid, you have more important things to
deal with.”
  

That
was why I never told Ashton. I mean, I
didn’t tell anyone, but
especially
not
her. From now on she would probably watch me every time I ate; she would make
that face whenever I said I wasn’t hungry. She would be like an overbearing
mother and the fact that I knew she meant well wouldn’t make it any less
frustrating. I didn’t mind so much when only Rachel knew, she never talked
about it, not even in the beginning. Of course this tended to be how Rachel
coped with things, the same way she was dealing with what Ashton had brought
up.

I smiled
reassuringly, “It’s okay.”

“If there’s
anything I can do to help‒.” She stopped when I shook my head at her.

“Actually,”
a thought struck me, “There
is
something
you could do to help me.”

She waited
eagerly.

“You could
apologize to Rachel,” I said quickly, hoping she’d agree before registering my
words.

She
frowned, “I’m sorry, can’t do that.” She was out the door before I could say
anything else.
 

I groaned.
I’d never heard Ash say no to anyone before. I knew already this was going to
be a summer of firsts. I was still hoping some of them would be for the better.

It’s Always the Quiet Ones

I looked up
anxiously at the sound of a knock on my door. Ironically, Ash had stopped
talking to me when I’d tried to restore peace by asking her to apologize to
Rachel. And the only contact I actually had with Rachel was when I would
occasionally check her room at night to make sure she had come home. Needless
to say, I was a bit anxious at the prospect of having a visitor.

"Come
in," I said curiously. "Rachel?" I questioned, more in surprise
than anger as I watched her walk in.

Her arms
were locked behind her back and she was biting her lip. She looked almost
nervous, except that Rachel was never nervous.

I sat up
from my bed and waited for her to break the silence.

Her hand
shifted. I realized she was holding something behind her back.

I raised an
eyebrow at her, “What is it?”

She led out
a loud sigh, and then stepped forward as if she might change her mind if she
waited any longer. She dumped the package in front of me, and I waited a minute
before looking down at it.

I couldn’t
stop the smile that came to my face as I stared down at it. Rachel was the best
at apologizing without using words.

It was a
red and white Christmas stocking that said my name on the front of it. It was
stuffed full with cherry-flavored candy canes, which were peeking out from the
top.

This was
the same apology gift Rachel had given me in the 7
^th
grade, after
she’d kissed my first boyfriend (also, ironically named Ryan) during the last
slow dance of the Winter Formal. It was the same gift she’d given me after my
dog died freshman year (that one was actually
not
her fault, but she felt guilty that I’d been sleeping over at
her house when it happened). It had become this silly tradition between us, and
even though it didn’t change any of the horrible things she’d said, it still made
me smile.

“How’d you
find candy canes in July?”

“Believe
me, it was harder than you’d think. I would have apologized sooner, but I
didn’t want to show up empty handed and it took a while to get that stocking
monogrammed.”

I nodded
absently.

She eyed the
edge of my bed awkwardly, for once waiting for my permission to sit.

“You can
sit down. I’m not going to bite you.”

“Promise?”

“You know I
don’t make promises,” I said teasingly.

She looked
down at the stocking of overflowing candy canes between us, and then sat down
on the other side of it.

“I’ve never
regretted anything I’ve said more.”

“Wow,” I
snorted, “You’ve said some pretty awful things.”

“I know…”
she paused. “I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you…I’m sorry.”

Now it was
my turn to sigh. “I know you are, Rachel.”

“That
doesn’t sound like you accepting my apology.”

When
provoked, Rachel could, at a moment’s notice turn into this monster that seemed
to know exactly what to say to make someone feel infinitely small.

I'd seen
her do it numerous times, to me, Ash, her parents, anyone. But revealing my
deepest secret, to perhaps the last two people I ever wanted to know was a new
low, even for her.

Still, I
knew she really was sorry. I also knew it wouldn’t be the last time she would
do something like this. But I certainly wasn’t a saint, and I’d had my fair
share of screw ups too. And though Rachel was slow to apologize, she had always
been quick to forgive.

There was
no explaining it to anyone else, but Rachel and I could forgive each other for
anything. After all, wasn’t that what it meant to love someone unconditionally?

“Fine,” I
said abruptly. “I’ll forgive you, on one condition.”

I took a
breath, anticipating her resistance. "Apologize to Ashton," I
finished.

It was
amazing how quickly her face reverted back to the hard mask she normally wore
when she wasn’t feeling guilty or apologetic.

I sighed,
"Rachel, you know she wouldn’t have said that if she knew... if you would
tell her..."

"I’m
not telling her a damned thing. And why should I bother apologizing? I’ve never
liked her, and I don’t see the point in pretending."

"Well,
fine then,” I looked away, “Forget it."

"Eli,"
she sighed. "
Seriously
?"

I shook my
head, "If you’re not going to be friends the least you can do is be civil.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask for."

"It is
a
lot
to ask for."

I shrugged.
She pouted at me, like I was one of those boys that lusted after her, as if I
could ever be swayed by her ridiculous expression.
 
I raised an eyebrow.

"I
can't believe I'm doing this," she finally sighed, shaking her head.

"Thanks,"
I smiled, taking her comment as a surrender.

"Why
does it matter to you anyway? We’re not going to become BFFs and braid each
other’s hair if that’s what you’re hoping for," she said, rolling her
eyes.

When I
first met Ash, Rachel had told me that I “had a thing for charity cases” and
needed to know it wasn't my duty to “save the world.” I wasn't naive enough to
think they would hit it off, but their relationship was starting to feel
reminiscent of my parents’, and I refused to let them stoop to that level.
 
I was still convinced that one day they would
bond over their one shared interest: me.

"Read
my lips Elle." She said slowly, as if she was saying something very
difficult to grasp, "Never. Going. To. Happen."

I pretended
I hadn’t heard her.

"Seriously,
come on! Me and Ashton?" She laughed, as if the idea was the most absurd
thing she’d ever heard.

Sure they
were different, but they would be good for each other, a healthy balance.
"Never say never! I’m the pessimist, and I actually do believe that
someday you and Ash can be, dare I say it," I paused for dramatic effect,
"BFFs!"

She rolled
her eyes at me, but I noticed the smile she was trying to hide.

Then a
thought struck me, “Does this mean I have to start going running with you
again?”

Our fight
had evidently brought this newfound tradition to a halt. I couldn’t say I was
sad about it.

“It does,”
she nodded, “Bet you wish you’d thought about that before you forgave me.”

“Yep, I
certainly do,” I said regretfully.

“Don’t
pretend you don’t love our bonding time,” Rachel said cheerily, wrapping her
arms around me in a move that felt more like a chokehold than a hug.

I let out a
strained laugh.

And just
like that we were Rachel and Eli again. It didn’t mean I wasn’t hurt, in fact I
would probably never forget that night, but we needed each other and we both
knew it, even if neither of us would ever admit it.
 

---

"Ashton!
Fancy meeting you here!" I said dramatically as she opened the door to her
room.

She let out
a loud gasp, eyeing me suspiciously as she closed the door behind her.
"Wha-… what are you doing in my room?"

I shrugged.
She kept her hand on the doorknob, like she was preparing to run.

"Ash,
relax. I just wanted to know if Rachel apologized."

"Oh,"
she said. Then she snorted, "Yeah, I guess."

"What
do you mean?" I asked.

"Well,"
she said, finally walking towards me, "It was the lousiest apology I've
ever heard. She never actually said the word
sorry
. But this is
Rachel
we're talking about."

I sighed.

"What'd
you do, blackmail her into it?"

"No,"
I said defensively.

She shook
her head. I knew she knew I had something to do with it because Rachel would
never apologize to Ash on her own accord. But I wanted to pretend anyway, to
instill some doubt in her mind, so she could start to rethink her answer on the
question of whether or not Rachel had a soul. That was the first step, I’d
decided.

"Well,
thanks for trying anyway," she smiled.

I shrugged.

"Huh!"
she gasped suddenly. "Fudge!"

"What?"
I asked, amused by her fake curse.

"Nothing,"
she said quickly. I eyed her suspiciously as she added; "I think I dropped...something."

"A
book? I know how vital those are to your survival," I teased.

"Yeah,"
she nodded, "That's it...a book."

Now I knew
something was up. "How about I help you look for it?" I smiled.

Her face
morphed into a mask of horror. "No!" she exclaimed, shaking her head
and waving her hands in front of me.

"Okay..."

"I'm
gonna go look for it outside...you stay here! Don't move," she added
forcefully, walking backwards towards the door so she could keep an eye on me.

I could
hear heavy, rapid footsteps on the stairs as soon as she left the room. I took
them as my cue. As soon as I was sure she was gone I started searching through
her bag.
Could you blame me?
I'd
never seen her act so suspiciously before. She was
obviously
trying to hide something. What if she was in trouble? It
was my duty as her best friend to find out what she was hiding so that I could
save her…At least that was how I justified it.

I rummaged
through her bag twice and found nothing. I closed the door, and started
perusing her room. I checked under the bed, behind the bedframe, under the
mattress, I checked her shoes, in her pant pockets, between the flowers on the
vase, ran my fingers over the blades of the ceiling fan, I moved paintings
hoping to find secret passageways...And that's when I stopped, because that's
when I realized the absurdity of the situation. Plus I was tired, and I’d
gotten a bruise from falling off the bed when I was checking the fan.

Besides, I
wasn't even sure what I was looking for. I collapsed on her bed, accepting
defeat, staring at the bookshelf that stood across the room. Then I found it.
All those late nights watching too many action movies did pay off! I. Was.
Ecstatic. I had to remind myself to stop doing my happy dance so I could get to
the bottom of this case before Ash came back. Sneakily, I glided my way to the
bookcase. I stared at it like it was priceless treasure.

I happened
to know that Ashton organized her books by favorites, so that the order made no
sense to anyone but her. I also remembered that Sylvia Plath was her favorite
poet. So why was
Ariel
in the middle
of the shelf? The only explanation was that it had been moved to make room for
something else.

 
I stood on my toes, looking at the top of the
bookshelf. And...bingo! I found a book with no title or author. I pulled it
out, looking back at the door like I was a spy in enemy territory.

Ashton
Willis

March
14th, 2009

I
promise to document the exciting and awful moments of my life, so that I may
share them with you, wherever you are. All the things I find I can't share with
anyone else shall be written here.

                                                                
With
Love,

                
Your favorite (and only)
granddaughter

I sat down.
So this was her diary. I was certain it was what she’d been looking for. But
why would she be so adamant on hiding it today?
‘Maybe I shouldn’t read it,’
I started to think. ‘
But she’s just learned my deepest secret, so
maybe this will just bring us closer?...Yeah! Open it, open it, open it…’

I flipped
the page carefully. The journal was beautiful, its black leather cover
embellished by vine-like designs in gold print that made it resemble the sort
of books

collectors
sought after, the kind that sold for thousands of dollars at old book stores,
except the pages were starting to fall out. Though the table of contents proved
the diary to be almost as ancient as the books it resembled, the journal was
large enough that I could understand why she hadn’t filled it up after all
these years.
 

I skimped
through the titles.

November 15th, 2009
  
“A Bad Day “

April 29th, 2011 “The Day I Met Eliza/
"Elle"

September 4th, 2012
     
“I Miss You”

March 10th, 2013
          
“An Epiphany”

June 20th, 2015
 
“The
Day I Met Julian”