Kaleidoscope (15 page)

He continued to trip over his words, running his fingers nervously through his hair and looking around with childlike apprehension, as his message finally spilled out. “I think I'm falling for you. And I hope that isn't weird, because I know we haven't known each other for too long, and I know you have your own stuff going on, but...the heart wants what the heart wants, and it didn't feel right not saying anything.”

Moments passed. Patrons filed out the door as the weekday evening waned on, anticipating their early rise for work the next morning. Marcus delivered our boxes and even helped me to contain the half of my remaining meal into it. Austin sputtered that he would pay, refusing to even let me leave a tip for the charming server, and we briskly walked back to the car as the temperate night air took on a bit of chilly wind. Austin started up the car, his every motion now seeming stunted and hurried.

I nearly let him slide the vehicle into 'drive,' but I placed my hand gently on his just as he moved to do so. As my shock wore off, I realized I had to say
something
.

I could feel his eyes boring into me, though mine remained focused on my lap for fear of losing my mind if I didn't. I hadn't meant to keep him waiting so long, but I thought until just then that I'd never get the nerve to respond.

“I...I feel the exact same way.”

              The tension I'd felt within the car's small, enclosed space immediately lifted, and the warmth returned to Austin's face. His whole being seemed to have taken a collective sigh of relief. He lifted his hand, and his fingers gently crept around to hold mine within, spreading like tendrils of fire over my skin.

We spent the remainder of the drive in a comfortable silence, wearing unbreakable smiles on our faces. The city lights faded behind us as the scenery began to whisper too, seemingly afraid to break our reverie. After what only seemed like a single minute, Austin had pulled the car into the driveway of my house, parking it and unbuckling his seatbelt to walk me to the door. We sat there for a moment with only the quiet purr of the engine between us and the hush of the night.

“I had an absolutely wonderful time,” I gushed, breaking the silence. “In all honesty, I've never had such a nice time with anyone before. I...oh, and thank you for dinner, also. Just the whole thing, it was all great.” I felt like I might burst and couldn't contain my gratitude any longer.

“You're more than welcome,” he laughed, turning his body in his seat to face me. “I can't thank you enough for going with me.”

The stars in my eyes and in my smile were something I hadn't experienced in a very, very long time. “Any time,” I replied smartly. “But really...I'd love to do this again sometime soon. Only you don't have to be so fancy...I'm a simple girl.”

“You and I both know you're anything but. You're one of a kind.” He glanced wistfully towards the door. We both knew that the night had come to an end.

“Well, until next time...want me to walk you up? We don't want you to get kidnapped or anything so close to the finish line. Your mother would never forgive me.”

I chuckled. “Yes, that would be lovely. How would I ever make it there otherwise?” I turned to get my box of leftover bliss, which had by now turned very lukewarm, and proceeded to step out of the car. Austin met me as I closed the door, offering his arm to me. I took it gratefully, carrying the small box under my opposite arm.

We stood under the glow of the porch light, and I got caught up in the way that it reflected off of the handsome man beside me, silhouetting his sharp features. Tearing myself away, I fumbled for the door handle until my fingers brushed against it. I knew that it would be unlocked, and that it was very likely my mom lurked somewhere on the other side, pretending to watch television but eagerly awaiting my entry to pounce with a thousand questions.
How much would I tell her?

“Well, goodnight Austin,” I said, turning towards him one more time before I resigned myself to my impending interrogation.

“Wait, aren't you forgetting something?”

I looked around, then down at myself. I had on my jacket, and my leftovers were securely in tow. “I don't think so--”

As I looked back up to him, the words died on my lips. My eyes widened with surprise as Austin's hand slid gently underneath my chin, turning my face to his as he stepped towards me, leaving only inches between us. Again, the inviting, comforting warmth of being so close to another person enveloped me. He tilted my head back and I closed my eyes as a rush of electricity zinged through my lips and down into the rest of my body. Austin had given me my first kiss.

“Goodnight Jade. I'll see you soon!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

November 13

Wow. I know this is supposed to be for memories, and Ms. Orowitz, I know you'll be reading this one day soon, but I just have to put it somewhere. This is the making of a very important new memory, and I hope to never, ever forget it.

Last night, Austin Fletcher kissed me. It was my first kiss, and I couldn't have asked for a better ending to an absolutely amazing dinner. The entire evening was surreal like a dream, it was that wonderful. He really planned this out. And all this time, here I was thinking that someone like him could never fall for someone like me—I'm still not convinced I'm worth the effort, but I guess that isn't for me to decide. At least that's what people say.

I've never had a good example of love to look up to, what with all of Mom's not-so-shiny knights in rusted armor, but I'm almost certain I'm experiencing it right now. For the first time in a while, this emotion is strong enough to push through my wall of numbness, and instead, I feel like I'm flying. It's absolutely terrifying, but it's so relieving to know that I'm capable of feeling
something
. And what a something! It's terrifying because it feels like holding a butterfly in my hand. If I hold on too tight, it might suffocate, but if I open them up, it might be gone forever. It feels so fragile and delicate, and yet overwhelmingly powerful. Maybe it's more like trying to hold a baby crocodile.

It's worth the fear though. It's worth it even to just feel fear—to feel something. The best part is that this time, I'm not asleep, off dreaming in my own world. It's all real.

I had awakened that morning in a surreal haze. It felt like everything had been a dream, but I knew it wasn't. The dinner was real, my feelings were real, and the kiss was most definitely real. The blinking phone, which I'd kept next to my journal on my nightstand last night instead of on the desk on the opposite side of the room, alerted me to a text that confirmed the experience in case I was still having doubts.

>>
Good morning. =) I hope you have a good day beautiful, dont get 2 bored over there!

My heart lifted, and I felt almost as calm as I had staring into the eyes of a beautiful white tiger as I lay there on my bed, sprawled on my back and replaying last night's events over and over on my bedroom ceiling.

“Jade?”

My mother's voice echoed up the stairway, and I could hear her ascending to greet me in person. Boy, had she given me quite the grilling after I'd walked in through the door last evening. As I'd watched Austin's headlights fade into the night, Mom wanted to know everything. I hadn't planned on telling her much until I saw the beaming, inquiring look on her face; she'd seen the big finale. And so, I'd told her as much as I needed to for her to let me go to sleep, smiling inwardly as she giggled like a happy little schoolgirl at my summary.

Ugh, she couldn't possibly be back for more, can she?
I asked myself as her somewhat shorter form appeared in the doorway.

Mom was dressed more casually than normal, pairing her silky olive blouse with a pair of jeans instead of the black slacks or pencil skirts that she would normally wore for work, and her long hair had been left to fall around her shoulders. Today, she had taken the day off to attend to a doctor's appointment. She had only just remembered to remind me of this last night before I went to bed when she'd asked if I would go with her.

“I hate going to the doctor alone,” she complained last night. “Sorry about the short notice, I actually forgot until they called me this morning to confirm.”

I hadn't quite given her an answer, being as entangled as I was with my own personal events. Realizing this, I looked expectant as she entered. She was probably here to remind me again.

“Good morning honey,” Mom said in a voice just above a whisper. She looked me up and down. I was barely awake, let alone dressed. “Uhm...my appointment is in about an hour, did you think about coming with me?”

I stretched my arms above my head, stretching my stiff muscles. I hated doctors, too, but I figured that going with Mom to her appointment was the least I could do in exchange for all of the help and support she'd given to me. Plus, it would take much more than that to dim my bolstered spirits today—what better a time to try to be helpful? I sighed with mock inconvenience, twitching a smile at her.

“Fine,” I relented, standing up. Relief swept over her features as I made my way around her. I went on a mission to the closet to try finding something halfway decent to wear.

“Thanks honey. Well, I'll let you get ready then and meet you downstairs. I'm going to make a cup of coffee, do you want some?”

I pulled a face, grimacing at her. “Ew, you know I hate coffee. But,” I added as an afterthought, plucking a white t-shirt from a pile of half-folded clothes, “I guess I wouldn't mind some hot chocolate or something.” Something warm to drink before being dragged through the cold, unappealing halls of Mom's doctor's office just seemed like a good idea. She nodded, then made her way downstairs. I would follow shortly after, bouncing down the steps as if the weight of the world had seamlessly fallen off of my shoulders.

***

“So, how long is this going to take?” I asked, hurrying alongside my mother. She turned to look over her shoulder at her red hatchback car, no doubt to ask herself if she'd remember to lock it. I affectionately referred to it as the “clown car”--it was no larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, and from the outside, it was pretty miniscule. At least it was reliable, though—Mom's had it ever since I could remember, probably as long as she'd had the cat, Murray.

We approached the clinic's glass double doors, which swung open effortlessly. “Not long,” she replied, her gaze straight forward. I could tell that she wanted to get this over with just as badly as I did. “It's just a routine checkup--a flu shot and a refill on my medication.”

The refill was for her anti-anxiety medication; she'd been taking it ever since I'd started doing therapy. I stared down at my sneakers as they passed over tile upon tile of gray linoleum, overcome with guilt.

“You should get a flu shot too while we're here, hon. It's really cheap--”

“Uh, absolutely not,” I interrupted. Still staring at the floor, I cringed. “I hate needles. And the flu. I'm supposed to trust a doctor to inject me with a virus as a way to prevent me from getting it? What sense does that make?”

Mom smiled at me, launching into her speech about how uncommon it is to get sick from a flu shot, its rate of effectiveness, and all the other nonsense she tried to convince me of year after year. Her monologue continued all the way until we reached one of several lobby areas, designated with standard navy blue carpet and a few rows of light gray chairs situated around a plain wooden coffee table that sported an array of highly outdated magazines. We had only been sitting down for a few minutes before a portly, cheerful-looking nurse ascended upon us, her hands folded docilely in front of her.

“Ms. Lauderdale?” she asked. She had barely even waited for my mother's nod to extend her hand in greeting. “Hi there! My name's Becky, and I'm Dr. Rupp's nurse for today. How are you?”

“Oh, I'm fine, thanks,” Mom said, forcing her best smile. It was times like these, when she was placed in an uncomfortable situation, that I could see the resemblance between us. Her entire body language had changed to reflect her dislike of seeing a doctor, and it was just like mine was on a daily basis. Her shoulders hunched, she brought her limbs closer into her body, and her eyes were shrouded with uncertainty.
It's interesting how that works.

“Great! Well, the doctor's almost ready for you, he's just finishing up with someone—why don't you go ahead and come with me to fill out some paperwork while we wait?”

Mom stood up, looking back at me. She looked so helpless.

“I'll be here,” I said, giving her a comforting wave. Becky waddled ahead of her as they entered a room a bit further down and closed the door after them.

I sat there for a moment taking in the unnaturally clean environment around me. As my mind wandered, I remember Austin had texted me. I decided it would be a good time to message him back—maybe it would distract me a little while I waited for Mom. I reached into my back right pocket, the one that didn't contain my ever-present little journal, and slid my cell phone out from it to tap out a message:

>>
Haha, I'll do my best. Waiting at the doc for Mom's checkup, she hates going alone...

I placed it on the empty chair beside me. I crossed my legs and fiddled my thumbs, having nothing better to do than wait for him to reply. I hated waiting.

Glancing at the magazines out on the tables, I casually fanned them out and perused over them. I wondered if any of them would be suitable to bring to the recreation center to add to Mr. Pearson's collection of outdated reference material. I scanned the dates printed in the corners of the various brands of magazines: July 2011, August 2011, January 2010...
Yep. Any of these would be perfect.

I sighed and tilted my head back as I slumped in the short chair.   I closed my eyes, listening to the quiet drone of noises around me. Two nurses conversed with each other at one of the check-in desks. Somewhere, a phone rang in the background four times before someone finally answered it. Occasional footsteps clicked down the immaculate hallways. Every sound echoed in the wide, agoraphobic space of the medical facility, and the sterile smell of hospital equipment drifted uneasily into my nostrils.

Without warning, a strange numbing sensation overcame me; it reached from my fingers and travelled into my brain like tendrils of ice.
What was happening?
My mind drifted, and the darkness behind my closed lids transformed into a movie, played out from somewhere deep in my memory.

***

The one-story building was large, sprawling even, especially for its purpose. I didn't know the name of the facility, but I knew it was for people who had mental issues. It was for people whose families had brought them here either because they were too difficult to handle, too broken to fix without extensive help, or people who couldn't be trusted alone without causing harm to themselves. People like me.

The windows were all barred to prevent escape and harm, and their view was only of the dirty city buildings and concrete parking lots surrounding it. I was told there were no sharp edges inside the facility, just in case. Cafeteria tables were rounded, bed corners were rounded—I couldn't be sure, but I was willing to bet that even the door edges were rounded.

I looked around as I straggled along on a tour of the facilities behind a very thin, plain-looking woman with loose, graying brown hair. She must be one of the attendants. She smiled halfheartedly at me, pointing and narrating as we journeyed from the cafeteria down what seemed like an endless hallway.

“This is the recreation room,” she said, pointing to a smaller, glass-encased room to my right, its door shut. Her voice was as bland as the rest of her. The décor in the 'recreation room' had much more personality; it was bright and colorful in contrast to the stark whiteness that dominated most of what I'd seen so far. Inside was a television anchored high on the wall, a few bean bag chairs (God forbid someone try to use a real chair as a weapon), a bolted-down shelf full of books with board games, and a corner of stuffed animals for the hospital's younger patients. While on the smaller side, the floorspace in this room was ample to allow for the supervised activities of the patients.

Someone acting as a guard stood just outside the room, watching through the glass panes to make sure no one got hurt—currently, he was supervising a young man watching television in one of the bean bag chairs, and a girl who looked to be about fourteen or fifteen—the same age as me—sitting cross-legged on the floor playing Sudoku.

“As I said before, each mealtime consists of a half hour period. But, you'll also have an hour a day to use whatever facilities you want. In addition to the recreation room, we have a library, an enclosed outside space with a running track, and an arts and crafts room.”

It sounds a lot like prison
, I thought.

As we continued walking, the nurse prattled on about my schedule with various doctors who would be checking up on me and giving me brief therapy sessions. I listened vaguely, but mostly tuned her droning voice out in favor of looking around at the other patients that occupied this building with me.

It was safe to say that many, many of them were worse off than me, even though they were all under the age of eighteen. I'd only tried to commit suicide—peacefully I might add, by numbing the fear and overwhelming human instinct to live with a half a bottle of pills that I'd found in Mom's medicine cabinet. They didn't belong to her...they belonged to
him.
I thought it was only fitting.

But these people seemed to have much more serious problems going on, if you could imagine. I'd overheard one of the girls here, who was probably only thirteen judging by her size and her demeanor, telling another patient that she'd used her abusive father's power drill to put holes through her arms and her feet. The scars visible on her arms were something out of a movie; I could only imagine what she'd been trying to accomplish.