Mark My Words (6 page)

The couple in the upstairs apartment were fighting again. It was a symphony of raised voices, accusations being tossed back and forth like a game of catch. I sat on the couch flipping through the channels attempting to find a show that would capture my attention. But it was a losing battle. Between the fighting upstairs and my thoughts about Lennie, I couldn’t focus. Finally, I gave up, shutting off the TV and tossing the remote on the couch near my leg. Stretching out my legs, I rested my head on the cushions and let my mind wander to my conversations with Lennie today.

The sadness in her eyes and the hopelessness of her words plagued me. I couldn’t shake it. No one should be that unhappy. It’s not that I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through. But I didn’t want her to throw her life away while she still had it. I wanted to see her smile. To see her laugh. To see her enjoy every moment.

As I replayed our exchange on the way home, a thought struck me. Heart pumping, I shot up. The couple upstairs was still going at it, but I ignored them. From what I overheard, it never escalated past yelling. If he hit her, I’d have to get involved, but so far that hadn’t happened, and I was grateful.

Fumbling around with my hand, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. After a quick google search, I found exactly what I was looking for. One phone call later, and my plan was set in motion. I was reminded of all the times Mom told me I had no idea what it was like when she was younger. That technology had made life too easy now with everything right at our fingertips.

Searching my contacts, I found Lennie’s name. Running my fingertips over the screen, a smile formed on my face. I was about to press on her name, when I stopped. In college my roommate always said that you had to wait at least three days after you got a girl’s number before you could call her. If not, he explained, you would seem desperate. Then again, he had tons of rules when it came to dating. I had a hard time following them. I was the kind of guy who jumped in head first when it came to girls. If I liked someone, I didn’t want to play games. I just wanted to date her.

But perhaps my roommate was right. He did have a lot more girlfriends than I did in college, that’s for sure.

And I had already come on pretty strong where Lennie was concerned. Lowering the phone, I dropped it onto my stomach. The arguing upstairs had finished, and silence blanketed me save the wind rustling outside my window. Rolling my head to the side, I stared out at the inky black sky, the trees swaying in the breeze. When I was a kid, I would open my windows on nights like this. Then I’d breathe in the cold night air, the scent of the city filling my senses. I understood what Lennie meant about feeling comfortable in the city, because I felt the same way. After high school graduation, I had friends who traveled to other countries. Went backpacking through Europe, or built houses in Mexico, or did mission work in Africa. I’ll never forget how excited they were preparing for their adventures. And I wanted to be excited for them. Only I couldn’t. Deep down I was horrified. The thought of traveling to a foreign country caused panic to rise up inside of me like the swell of an ocean wave. I liked the safety and security of being somewhere familiar.

There was nowhere in the city that I wasn’t familiar with. The unknown was something that didn’t appeal to me. Honestly, I thought Lennie was brave for even attempting to live somewhere else. And the fact that she ended up coming back endeared me to her further. It seemed that maybe we were more alike than I originally thought.

Pausing, I sucked in a breath.

In my mind I saw it all. Lennie going about her comfortable life, knowing where she was headed, and what was in store. And then she was told she was sick. She was hit with a bomb that blew apart all that was familiar. All that was comfortable.

I felt a little guilty for being harsh with her earlier. The words were meant to help her, but I realized now that they could have been misconstrued. I had no idea what it would be like to be told that you were dying. It was one thing to know it could happen at any minute, and quite another to be told it definitely will happen soon. It was insensitive of me to think I could relate at all to what she was going through.

I still planned to be there for her. To make her happy any way I could. And I still wanted to help her live her life to the fullest. But I vowed to be more sensitive, more sympathetic.

Plucking my phone up, I unlocked it. Who cared about my roommate’s stupid rule? When I’d left Lennie it had only been hours since she passed out. She was sick. She was depressed. She was dying.

I thought it was safe to throw protocol out the window at this point. Without a second thought, I called her.

“That didn’t take long,” she joked when she answered. At the easy banter, my mind filled with visions of teenage Lennie.

“I just wanted to check on you,” I hurried to answer. “See how you’re feeling.”

“I’m fine now,” she said. “No more passing out or anything.”

“Good,” I said.

“Actually, I’m glad you called. I forgot to say thank you earlier.” She paused. “For hanging out with me and walking me home.”

“It was no problem.” It wasn’t like I made some huge sacrifice. Truth was that it was one of the best days I’d had in a long time.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t get much work done because of me.”

“No, it was fine.”

“So is this the first book you’ve written?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“How does it work exactly? Like, do you have an agent or publisher or something?”

My stomach knotted. “Um…no. I actually don’t even know what my plan is. I might query agents and publishers when it’s done, or I might publish it myself.”

“That’s exciting.” I could practically hear the smile in her voice. “You’re like involved in your very own ‘choose your ending’ story. The possibilities are endless.”

Quiet filled the line. Creaking sounded from upstairs, like a bed being jumped on. Now that the couple was done fighting they were making up. Honestly, I preferred the yelling. Wincing, I lowered my head, hoping the pillows would drown out the noise.

“Have you ever thought of writing something yourself? It might be therapeutic,” I reasoned.

“When I was younger I wanted to write, but my dreams changed over time,” she explained.

“What is your dream now?” I asked, curious.

“To live.”

Her words punched me in the gut with such force I feared I might hurl. Something about the vulnerability in that statement brought the reality of the situation into extreme focus. Before everything had seemed blurry, like an old, grainy photo. I was straddling the lines between real life and fantasy.

But this wasn’t a daydream.

I was no longer a teenage boy scrawling Lennie’s name in my notebook.

I was a grown man. And Lennie was an adult. An adult who was dealing with the most awful thing a person had to go through.

Could I handle this? If not, I needed to end it right now. It was one thing to chase this idea of a girl I crushed on in high school. To fulfill a desire in my own life. Lennie needed more than that. She needed someone who could care for her. Someone who could help her.

Was I that guy?

Did I want to be?

“Colin?” Her voice was shy, unsure, child-like.

My heart stuttered.

“Are you still there?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes, I am.”

A sigh caressed my ear, and my insides flipped. I didn’t ever want to leave her hanging, to let her down. I wanted to be the reason she felt safe and secure.

I wasn’t sure I was capable of being the guy she deserved, but I sure as hell was going to try.

I wanted to surprise her, but she wasn’t making it easy.

“Where are you planning to take me?” She asked incessantly in the days leading up to our first official date. I could tell it bothered her when I refused to tell her. A couple of times I almost caved. I hated the thought of making her unhappy.

However, when I saw the look of shock on her face when we showed up at the dance studio, it was all worth it. Her expression of pure awe and unadulterated happiness was exactly what I’d been anxiously awaiting.

“What are we doing here?” There was cautious optimism in her voice, as if she figured she knew why I brought her here, but part of her worried that she was wrong.

“I signed us up for a class.”

“You did?” The cautiousness was gone. Her smile broadened, sweeping her face. Color rose on her cheeks.

I nodded, my heart swelling.

As we stepped inside, her gaze flew all around the room as if she didn’t know where to look first. “I can’t believe you did this for me,” she breathed.

I shrugged, a little uncomfortable. “I don’t know how to dance either, so it’s a win-win.”

As we approached the dance instructor, Lennie’s fingertips brushed mine. A shudder rippled through me. Then she shocked me by folding her fingers around my palm. I swallowed hard, my entire body heating up. Her skin was soft and silky against my rough flesh. I savored the way she clutched me tightly, the way our fingers wound together. As the instructor introduced herself, I didn’t hear a word. All of my attention was focused on the feeling of Lennie’s skin against mine. I couldn’t get over the fact that she was touching me. But mostly that she had initiated it.

If I thought that holding her hand was pure bliss, dancing with her was even better. The class I signed us up for was ballroom dancing. Therefore, I got to hold Lennie in my arms the entire time. Honestly, we weren’t the best dancers in the class. Both of us were awkward and jerky in our movements. Then again, I doubted I could do anything well when my hands were on Lennie’s body. It was a power of wills to simply pay attention in the class when all I wanted to do was memorize every inch of her. To savor the feel of my hand riding up her back, or my palm pressed to hers. Adding in dance steps was quite the challenge.

“It’s a good thing I’ll never get married,” Lennie said breathlessly between giggles. “I would make a fool of myself at my reception.”

I hated how she darkened every light moment. “Don’t say that,” I commanded. “You don’t know that it’s true.”

“Oh, yes, I do. Look at me. I’m a mess on the dance floor.” Her words were teasing, but what she was insinuating wasn’t.

One side of my lip curled upward. “I’ll admit you’re not the best. Neither of us are, but that’s not what I meant.” I caught her eye. “You don’t know that you’ll never get married.”

She stiffened in my arms, her legs stilling. As she stared into my eyes, her breath became labored, her chest heaving. “Yes, I do, Colin,” she whispered, as if the words physically hurt when they tore from her throat. “And you need to understand that too. I know you’re trying to help, but giving me false hope won’t help me.”

“I’m not trying to do that.” Lifting my hand, I gently touched her chin. “I’m simply trying to make you happy.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she melted into my touch. She didn’t say anything, but I read the words in the silence. I knew that in this moment she
was
happy, and it was enough for me. My thumb rested on her skin. Moving it slightly, it rubbed against her flesh. Up and down, generating heat. Stepping forward, my waist slid against hers. I waited for her reaction. Waited to see if she’d pull away.

She didn’t.

Curling my hand around her face, I fastened the other arm securely around her middle. Angling her face upward, she breathed out, hot air fanning over my neck. I lowered my head. Her eyes crashed into mine, and I could see the desire in her irises. My heart pounded louder and louder the closer my lips came to hers. When they almost touched, a yelp sounded at the back of her throat.

Without warning, she leapt backward. I blinked, my brows furrowing. She frowned, and her lips began to quiver.

“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, moisture filling her eyes. “I can’t do this.” Whirling around, she hurried out the front door.

Throwing an apologetic look to the instructor, I followed her. I wove through the other couples on the dance floor, feeling a little embarrassed. Not that they noticed me at all. They were too focused on their dance partners or on their own feet as they tried to keep up with the steps. When I got outside, Lennie was learning against the brick wall, hugging herself. Tears streaked her face. I felt like an idiot. Had I misread the entire thing? Was I imagining the signals?

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry.” Her voice wavered, and my heart tumbled to the ground. I wanted this night to be special. I wanted her to be happy; carefree. But she wasn’t any of those things.
I’d failed.
“I’m sorry about all of this, Colin. I never should’ve given you my number or agreed to go out with you.”

It was getting worse. So much worse.
“Please don’t say that.”

Her face was ravaged. She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground as she wrung her hands until they were crimson like blood. “You’re a nice guy, Colin. And what you did tonight was so sweet. But I can’t keep leading you on like this. It’s not fair to you.”

I stood in front of her pressing my palms on the bricks framing both sides of her face, caging her in. “You’ve been upfront from the beginning, Lennie. I know you’re sick, but I still want to date you.”

“I’m not just sick, Colin,” she spat angrily. “I have stage 4 melanoma.”

“Like skin cancer?” Now I really was confused.

“Technically, yes. But it’s the most deadly form of skin cancer,” she explained in a way that told me she had already said it a million times. “Mine has spread to my brain. And where the tumor is, they can’t operate. We’ve been doing treatments in hopes of shrinking it, but so far they’re not working.”

“There must be some medicine or something.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but surely we couldn’t give up.

“We’ve tried everything, Colin. Trust me.” Her shoulders slumped.

Dread descended on me like a heavy weight. I could scarcely breathe under the enormity of it, but I couldn’t let her see my struggle. She’d been through so much. I had to be strong for her. “I still want to be with you, Lennie,” I spoke softly, hoping she’d see how genuine I was.

“That’s because you don’t fully get it. If you did, you wouldn’t be saying this. Trust me. My own fiancée couldn’t stay with me once he found out. He said he didn’t want to watch me die.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit down on it. “Hell, my own parents can barely stand to be in the same room with me. It’s too hard for them.” Her gaze met mine. “We barely know each other. I can’t ask you to stick around and watch me die.”

“Then don’t.” I swiped my fingertip over her cheek, wiping away the warm tears. “Ask me to watch you live.”

She inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I do get it, Lennie. I know you’re dying. You’ve told me so many times I have the words etched into my brain. There’s no way I could forget.” As tears filled her eyes once again, I breathed deeply to quell the emotion rising in my throat. “But right now you can walk, you can drink coffee, you can go out to eat, you can dance. Physically you’re still alive, but inside you’ve let yourself die. I want to see you live.”

She sniffed, her eyes searching mine. Then she shoved off the wall, practically lunging herself at me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and her lips fastened to mine. There was no warning, no build up.

She kissed me greedily, her fingertips playing with the edges of my hair, her fingernails raking over the skin on the back of my neck. Her tongue slid out of her mouth, teasing the seam of my lips until they parted. I allowed her to take the lead, knowing it was what she needed. And trust me, I wasn’t complaining. The kiss was achingly beautiful, filled with more emotion than I’d ever been able to convey with the written word. I felt every bit of sadness in her heart. It was like she was feeding it to me, releasing it with every push and pull of her mouth, every touch of her fingers, every taste of her tongue. But I also felt passion, need, desire.

For the first time, she wasn’t teenage Lennie, or imaginary Lennie.

She was flesh and blood Lennie.

And the kiss wasn’t a fulfillment of teenage fantasy. It was real, authentic, moving.

In that moment, all of my preconceived notions flew out the window. Colin and Lennie ceased to exist.

We were simply a boy and a girl who needed each other.