Authors: Lindy Zart
I cross the street between our houses, hunching my shoulders against the chilly air. Dark houses stand like sentinels along the street; stoic and unmoving. Lights flicker occasionally through the windows like eyes trained on me, watching me. The loose ground crunches under the soles of my shoes; the sound out of place in the quiet and stillness of night. Being the end of April, it isn’t cold enough that I need a winter jacket, but it isn’t warm enough to not wear any kind of jacket either; like I am.
Leaves rustle from the force of the wind, causing tree limbs to sway in the gray and black sky. The air smells like rain and earth; moist and sickly sweet.
I stop, looking up at the red two-story house with white trim, swallowing around a lump in my throat. My eyes go to the second-floor window on the right. She is in there, asleep in her bed, dreaming. I wonder if she ever dreams of me. It’s unlikely. Maybe I don’t have her dreams, but she has mine, and I have this moment, right now.
I walk across the yard, the damp grass bending under the weight of my shoes. When I’m almost to the house, I reach down and grab a handful of the small pebbles that line it. The coolness of the stones seeps into my palm as I lightly jiggle them. I toss one toward the window, a small
ping
sounding as it strikes the glass. Almost immediately the curtains flutter and the window slides up.
And there she is: Lily Jo Jacobs.
I love her. I think maybe I always have; possibly since the first day I met her when my family moved in across the street from hers and she approached the unhappy, frowning boy I was. I was eight at the time; she was seven. She asked my name. I wasn’t going to tell her. I wasn’t going to say anything at all to her. But then she smiled and she was missing one of her front teeth and I couldn’t help it; I smiled back and I told her my name.
Lily is my most needed and treasured appendage; the one I cannot live without. She is what makes me forget, makes me smile, makes me content; makes the hollowness inside me close.
She makes me whole. She has so much of me; she has
all
of me, and Lily doesn’t even know.
“Grayson,” she hisses, “
what are you
doing
?”
“I can’t sleep,” I whisper loudly.
“Did you even try?”
“Yes,” I lie.
“So try
harder
.”
I don’t say anything to that. I just look up at the pale glow of her face that’s partially shadowed by night. I can’t see her eyes, but I’ve studied them so often I don’t need to see the
m to know what they look like—wide; with long, thick eyelashes. Depending on the lighting or what she’s wearing or even her mood, the color of her eyes shifts, changes, adapts. I feel those eyes aimed at me; I feel them caressing me as only Lily’s eyes can. She sees me. Always. And that is why she closes the window without another word. And that is why a few minutes later the front door opens and she is striding toward me.
Her long dark hair fans out behind her as she approaches, flowing
like fingers of water are sliding through it. Her pale pink pajama pants and long-sleeved white top light up in the dark. I take stuttering breaths the nearer she comes. She’s beautiful. Her nose is wider and her chin is squarer than what is acceptable by society to be deemed faultless, but I disagree. They are hers and they fit. Anything else would be wrong; mismatched. She’s flawed and imperfect and that makes Lily even more beautiful.
She doesn’t
speak, she just looks at me with large dark eyes and slides her hands through the space between my arms and body, fitting hers to mine, her cheek to my chest. I wonder if she notices how my heart rate escalates. I close my eyes and inhale her sweet scent, slowly raising my arms to hold her close; almost scared she’ll pull away before I can get my arms completely around her. She doesn’t.
I don’t know how long we stand like this; our arms around each other, silent, breathing the same cold air, drawing strength and warmth from one another. I have to pull away while I can. I don’t want to. Just holding her and having her hold me
has made the other world—my reality—disappear. It’s just me and Lily and nothing else exists. I clench my jaw and take a step back, her arms falling away.
“Your hair is getting long,” she announces.
Lily doesn’t ask me what is wrong; she never does. That hug was the only indication she’ll give that she is aware of the problems at my home. We don’t talk about them. She knows usually when I show up this late it’s because something has happened. The one time she asked me about it, I blew up and she hasn’t asked since. I honestly don’t know why she puts up with me. Most days I feel like I’m holding her back from something, but I am too selfish to let her go. I can
not
let her go. I’d lose myself if I did; she’d take all of me with her and there would be nothing of me left.
I run a hand through my messy blond hair, feeling it flip up under my hand. “Tell my hairstylist.”
“Maybe your hairstylist
likes
it like that.”
I drop my hand. “Does she?”
A smile tugs at her lips, her teeth flashing white. Lily shrugs. “Maybe. Although, honestly, I think she should raise her rates. You’re kind of taking advantage of her.”
I snort. “All the times I drive her around because she doesn’t
feel
like driving? I think she’s taking advantage of
me
, personally.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“Would you?”
Lily tucks her hair behind her ears. “What are your plans this weekend?”
“I have to work tomorrow night and Saturday during the day. Why?”
“There’s a party I was thinking of going to Saturday night and I want you to come.” She bites her lip as she watches my face. Lily has no idea how hot she is when she does that.
“What party?” I ask with a frown.
“Garrett Adams is having a party and he invited me.”
Something inside me clenches at the name. “You. Not me. I’m not going to a party I’m not invited to.” I’m not going to
any
party Garrett Adams has, invited or not. Not that he ever would invite me anyway.
“Oh, come on, Grayson!
Like anyone cares if you were invited or not. I doubt he’ll be checking names off a list. You’re my friend. You can come.”
I grit my teeth. “Not invited.”
“Grayson.”
“Why do you want me to go anyway?” I explode. “I can’t
stand
Garrett Adams and he can’t stand me. You know it. I know it.
Everyone
knows it. You’re
my
friend, not his. So why do
you
want to go? And why would you expect
me
to go?”
Lily’s face falls and then almost immediately stiffens, her lips pressed together. I know that look. It’s her ‘I’m determined now and am going to be impossible just to spite you because you pissed me off’ look.
“I like him. And I’m going, with or without you. I just thought I’d be nice and ask you to come with.”
I fist my hands. She
likes
him? How can she like
Garrett Adams
? I glare at her. “Well,
don’t
.
Don’t
be nice.”
She makes a sound of frustration. “I don’t understand why you two don’t like each other.”
“Because we don’t,” I snap.
“That’s not a reason!”
The space between us has diminished with each toss of words back and forth until there are mere inches between us. It’s cold out and I’m on fire. I’m breathing hard and still I’m struggling for air. Tension and electricity zing between us. Lily’s chest rises and falls with the force of her breaths and I know she feels it too. Anger, passion—they’re not so different.
I loom over her and my jaw juts forward as I growl, “It’s
my
reason and as far as I’m concerned, it’s a fucking perfect reason and that’s all you need to know.”
“But it’s
not
a reason! And don’t swear at me! Because you don’t? Really? That’s so—so
childish
! Give me
one
good reason why you don’t like him.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “No.”
Lily narrows her eyes at me, doing her scowly face thing. “Fine. Then I guess I’m going and you’re not.”
“So you’re picking him over me.” I’m not being fair, I
know
I’m not, but I can’t stop.
Lily goes still, staring at me for a long time. “You sound like a baby, you know.”
“I do not.” Yeah. I kind of do.
“Yes. You do. I’m not
picking
anyone. Only someone with the maturity level of a toddler would think or say such a thing.”
I wince. She’s right. “I don’t—I’m not—
Like him how?” I ask in a low voice, cringing at how pathetic I sound. I have to know. I don’t want to know, but I
have
to know. Or I’ll go insane.
She blinks. “What?”
“You said you like him. How do you like him? Like a friend or…more.” My insides twist at the thought and I hold my breath as I wait for her response.
Lily shrugs and turns her head away. “He’s nice.”
I snort. “He’s
nice
? Wow. Impressive. What every guy wants to be called. I almost feel sorry for him, except I don’t because he’s a dick. And you didn’t answer me.” The fact that she didn’t answer me worries me. There’s a crushing pressure in my chest that worsens the longer she hedges. And she isn’t looking at me. Why isn’t she looking at me?
“Lily,” I say quietly, placing my hands on her shoulders. I turn her so she faces me, ignoring the impulse to pull her to me. “Look at me.” She does and her eyes are dark with secrets. “Is there something going on with you two?”
My heart pounds as I wait. There can’t be. I would know. I would
feel
it. Wouldn’t I? It would feel the same as if a blade was slashed into my heart, over and over.
She swallows. “Does it matter if there is?”
The stinging tone of her voice surprises me and my hands drop away from her shoulders. Of course it would matter, of
course
it would. But I can’t say that. She can’t know. Lily can never know how I feel about her.
“What do you mean?” I ask warily, the pressure becoming unbearable.
“Nothing.” Lily backs away. “We’re just friends. I have to go. It’s late.”
As she walks away, I feel like I’m losing her. I know it’s ridiculous. She is only going to bed. I’ll see
her tomorrow. We’ll pretend the awkward pauses and innuendoes of this conversation never took place. We will be okay. We always are. Only it doesn’t matter. The space from her to me is growing as fast as the invisible distance between us and it’s churning me up inside. I can’t let her go, not like this, not ever.
I cross the dewy grass in long strides, reaching out to grab her arm. “Lily, wait.”
She immediately stops with her back to me, like she was waiting for me to stop her, like she wanted me to.
Not true. Don’t think it.
My pulse races as my hand slides down her arm to her wrist. It’s thin, bony. The crown of her head is close enough that the strawberry scent of it is seeping into me, drugging me. Lily is perfectly still; quiet, but I feel her pulse jumping in her wrist beneath the light pressure of my fingers. Desire, potent and agonizing, swiftly slams into me, taking my breath with it. I want her. I want her so bad.
My other hand trembles as it lifts to gently sweep her hair away from her neck and over her shoulder. She shivers, a small gasp leaving her. My head lowers and just as I’m about to place my lips to the soft skin on the nape of her neck, logic shouts at me.
What are you doing? You’re going to ruin everything. Stop it!
I inhale sharply, closing my eyes as I step away.
Fucking idiot
, I think.
Lily doesn’t look at me, doesn’t turn around. She stands frozen for an indefinite amount of time and then forcefully propels herself forward. She hurries to the safety of the house, away from me, and I watch her go, everything inside me pulsating with need for her, aching for her. Not just her body, but
her
. I want to be surrounded by her; her scent, her touch, her voice, her fury, her desire, her love.
Everything.
I want all of her and I can have none of her.
I fist my hands and clamp my teeth together, swinging away so I don’t chase after her yet again. This is the way it has to be. I am her friend, nothing else. I will forever be her friend. That is all I can be. That is all I will ever allow myself to be. It’s better this way, better for Lily. And everythi
ng I do, I do with her in mind.
“Get in, Aidan,” I tell my brother quietly, eyes on Lily as she crosses the street. I parked the car in front of her house even though she could have crossed the street to mine. I didn’t want to take the chance of her seeing my dad’s makeshift bed or have her running into my hung-over mom. It’s not as if she hasn’t seen both scenarios before, but I still refuse to meet her at my house before school.
I vaguely hear the door of the beat-up white 2000 Ford Escort creak open and know Aidan listened. I sigh, feeling like an ass for being short with him because of
my
problems. The kid’s too quiet, too obedient. Sometimes I want to grab him and shake him and tell him to be a kid, to yell and argue with people and just…
be a
kid
. There’s a fragile quality to Aidan I don’t understand and I don’t know how to take it away and that makes me overprotective. Not that I wouldn’t have been anyway, given the circumstances of our everyday life.
I lean down and peer through the
window at him, sticking my tongue out and crossing my eyes when he looks up. Aidan’s face lights up as he grins and he goes back to reading his Star Wars book, his posture not as slumped as it was a moment ago. I turn away from the door and resume my slouched stance against the car.
I didn’t get much sleep last night, and although that’s nothing new, the direction of my thoughts was. After school is over—that’s what I was agonizing about. Too soon high school will be done for me, and then what? Only a little l
ess than two months to go and I am finished. I’m surprised I don’t have an ulcer from all the worrying I do about shit I have no control over—my brother, my parents, Lily, the future.
I loaded up on coffee this morning, but I’m still not fully awake and
I’m cranky as hell. My eyes are on fire, my lids continually want to close, and there is a fog surrounding my brain. The chilly air and slight breeze is doing nothing to wake me up.
The insomnia started out about school, but ended up about Lily, and really, subconsciously it had been about her anyway. It always is. She’ll still have a year of school left to go when I graduate. We’re only a year apart in age, but we’ll be worlds apart once I graduate. We’ll have the summer, but what about after that? She’ll go back to school and I’ll do what? I want to leave this life, but I can’t leave her. I refuse to. If I’m not around Lily, I might as well not exist. It’s as simple as that. I’m shit without her.
I force the thoughts away and instead focus on Lily. Only that doesn’t really make me feel any better. I feel sick and happy at the same time, something the sight of Lily Jacobs has always induced in me. Things between us aren’t exactly ideal and it’s been like this more than it should be recently. And it’s all my fucking fault. I want more and I can’t have more and it’s making me act like a dick.
Her dark hair is in a high ponytail and sways back and forth behind her shoulders as she walks. I swallow; my mouth dry. There is nothing
significant about her clothes—dark blue jeans and a white form-fitting hooded jacket, but still my eyes are locked on her. I can clearly make out her small breasts and tiny waist in the way the jacket molds to her frame and my body uncomfortably responds.
Fuck.
When did I start thinking about sex every time I look at my best friend? I shift my weight and try to think of something repulsive. A naked old lady with sagging, wrinkly flesh does the trick. I shudder.
Lily is small, petite; everything about her is compact. Her red backpack is slung over one shoulder and she’s wearing pink and lime green tennis shoes. She dresses pretty plain, but her shoes are her one
claim to flamboyance. The more outrageous, bright-colored, and unique the shoes, the more she loves them.
Her lips are full, but small, and heart-shaped. They’re glossed apple red and shiny, making her eyes—dark blue today—an intense, brilliant sapphire. I blink as she turns those eyes on me. She doesn’t wear makeup except for lip gloss and mascara, but she doesn’t need any. Her skin is pale and unblemished; her eyes naturally long-lashed and large.
Lily smiles hesitantly, silently asking me if we’re good. I smile back and straighten from the side of the car, my hands in the pockets of my dark green jacket. Of course we’re good. Nothing could keep me mad at Lily, not even Garrett fucking Adams.
“Morning,” I say when she stops beside me, her fruity scent cocooning me.
“Hey. Rough night?” Her eyes are on mine and concern tightens her features. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine,” I answer shortly and open the car door. What I want to do is open her door for her, but friends don’t do things like that, so I don’t.
She gives me a look over the hood of the car. “Somebody’s a grumpy bear this morning.”
“Grumpy bear?”
“Would unprovoked asshole work better?”
I fight a grin. “Grumpy bear it is.”
“Hi, Aidan,” she says as she scoots into the seat, turning to gift my brother with a smile. I’m hit with gratitude and jealousy simultaneously and want to bang my head against the steering wheel at the idiocy of my emotions. I want all her smiles. How selfish is that?
“Hi,” his quiet voice replies, but it doesn’t sound as sad as it normally does, so the gratitude overrides the jealousy.
The drive to Fennimore Elementary School takes less than five minutes. Aidan jumps out of the car as soon as I park it, quickly waving as he walks up the sidewalk to the brown brick building. The wind blows his dark hair so it sticks up in front and his white skin stands out against the gray morning sky. He seems so small, so alone, as he hefts his black backpack up his shoulders and ambles for the door. Kids are clustered in groups and walking into the school, but he is a solitary figure as he makes his way toward the front doors and the beginning of his school day.
“He’ll be okay,” Lily says quietly.
I glance at her, but she is facing the school. How does she always seem to know what I’m thinking when I don’t even say anything, when we’re not even looking at each other? I don’t know if what she said is true or not, but hearing the quiet conviction in Lily’s voice tells me it is. The tension I wasn’t aware was stiffening my shoulders releases a small amount, but it is enough. I put the car in drive.
Fennimore, Wisconsin has a population under three thousand and boasts to being the last stop of the Little Dinky train; part of its caboo
se is set up across from Hardees and periodically offers rides. Lots of trees, green lawns, a large park, and a decent library make up the town. It’s naturally windy in Fennimore due to its elevated location. There’s a doll museum my mom and dad made me go to when I was a kid that has made me scared of dolls ever since. I can’t even watch the ‘Child’s Play’ movies without getting creeped out—not that the movies aren’t creepy enough without a predisposed phobia. I mean, really? Who comes up with stuff like that?
Home of the Fennimore Golden Eagles with school colors of maroon and gold, Fennimore is a safe, sports-oriented town. There are less than a hundred kids in each grade, making it easy to know who everyone is, which can be good or bad, depending on who you are.
Parking the car near the public swimming pool, I turn the key off, the engine sputtering into silence. I don’t lock the car doors because there’s nothing inside the car anyone would want, let alone the actual car. Working as a bartender on nights and weekends pays for a car and car insurance, but it doesn’t make me able to buy a
nice
car.
I dig into the pocket of my jacket and wordlessly hand Lily a miniature Dove dark chocolate. Her eyes light up and she laughs as she takes it, quickly leaning up and kissing my cheek. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for one of these for
forever
. You’ve been slacking big time. Thank you.”
I enjoyed that kiss too much. “I found that one, like, three months ago. I was holding out until you really annoyed me to give it to you.”
Lily gasps. “Jerk!” She lightly punches my shoulder.
“
Ow. What’s it say?”
“I have to eat it now?”
“Um,
yeah
.”
She sighs like she doesn’t really want to eat it even though I know she does. Lily is a chocolate addict and I feed her addiction weekly—but only with Dove chocolates because they have somewhat lame, but also cool sayings on the inside of the wrappers. It’s a tradition, I guess. I’ve been sharing chocolates with her since I moved here. Probably a good thing, as I used to eat a whole bag by myself.
Daily. Not an exaggeration. Well, maybe a slight one. It could have been half a bag.
“Stay away from boys with the initials ‘G’ and ‘L’,” she says as we walk down the street.
“Funny. What’s it really say?”
Lily glances at the wrapper, blinking as she reads, “
’Love without rules.’
”
I tense, but immediately force my body to relax. “Huh.”
A beat of strained silence ensues, each of us not looking at each other. It’s weird and out of place and I don’t understand it. I mean, on my part I do, but not on Lily’s.
Lily bites off half the chocolate and holds the rest out to me, easing the unknown tension. Sharing chocolate—another tradition. We’re kind of mutually dork-
ish. I open my mouth and she drops it in. It’s slightly sweet and smooth, coating my tongue and throat as it dissolves.
“My mom and dad want to go on a summer trip this year,” Lily says. “Scott isn’t going. He’s so in love with Cindy he can’t bear to be away from her for a few weeks. He is such a dweeb.”
I inwardly wince, knowing the feeling well.
Houses line the sidewalk to the left of us and the empty pool is to the right. The wind picks up, bitingly cold, and I long for summer heat. I’m a warm weather person and I can’t understand why anyone who knew what the weather was like around here would knowingly live in Wisconsin. I had no choice: I was born here. I can’t fathom anyone else’s reason for being here, especially if it’s by free will.
“And?” I prompt.
She waves as a group of girls and boys call out a greeting to her. I absently nod at the girls who say hi to me without even looking at them. My attention is somewhere else. Garrett Adams is in the group, his brown eyes lingering on Lily.
Jock prick. Doesn’t matter that
I
used to be one myself. I scowl and kick at a loose piece of gravel, my mood turning dark. Today, I feel, is going to be a catastrophic fail.
Lily is popular. She’s friendly and nice. She’s also pretty, and active in sports and other school activities. I’m more of a loner, although I have my own small fan base of simpering females. Annoying is what it is. I did the sports thing the first two years of high school, but last year I had to work to save up for a car and there was no time for sports, same as this year, deflating my popularity in an unredeemable nosedive to nonexistent. Not that I care. That kind of thing isn’t important to me. Lily isn’t shallow enough for it to matter to her either, but it’s easy to be that way when people naturally like you.
“And that’s it. We’re going on a summer trip. Minus Scott”
“You go on a summer trip every year, only with Scott. I don’t understand the significance of that comment.”
Lily shoots me an irritated look and bumps her arm against mine. “You’re crabby.”
“We already came to this conclusion, and anyway, I’m crabby every morning.”
“Not
every
morning, but most of them, yes. They have pills for that. You should look into it.”
“Do they have a pill for people much too happy in the morning? Because they should make one and help the rest of us out. You know—the
normal
people.”
Lily snorts. “You are
so
not normal.”
“You flatter me.”
“Anyway, the significance of my comment is that this year they said you could come along.”
I stumble over the curb, my eyes shooting to her face. “What?”
Lily hikes her backpack up the arm it’s sliding down, avoiding my eyes. Her face is red. “Okay, so maybe I asked if you could come. Well…
told
them, actually.”
“Why?” My heart is thundering and I have to stop walking because if I don’t, I’ll run into something.
She hurries toward the school. “Because.”
I jog after her. “Because
why
?” Lily ducks inside the door, not answering, and I follow. “
Lily
.”
She whirls around, her lower lip caught between her teeth. I tear my eyes away from the motion before my body does something embarrassing, swallowing with difficulty.
“Because I don’t know what’s going to happen after this summer,” she admits in a small voice.
I narrow my eyes, bumped and jostled as kids hustle past us as they try to get into the school hallway. I don’t care if we’re blocking the doorway. None of them matter.
This, and Lily, matter.
“What are you talking about?” I ask slowly. It’s dark in the hallway, but her eyes are bright, even shadowed by emotions as they are. Her words scared the hell out of me and a sense of foreboding chills me. The body odor and old food smell of the hallway is making me nauseous, or maybe it’s a combination of everything that’s making me feel sick.