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Authors: Erica Cope

Pieces of Me (16 page)

BOOK: Pieces of Me
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Chapter 23

 

 

I’ve pretty much been running on autopilot since Holden’s birthday.  That first week I did nothing but sit in my apartment and cry and think and yell at no one in particular. I took the battery out of my phone and I refused to check my emails.  I just wanted to be left alone and eventually, that's exactly what happened—they all left me all alone.

             
Now I am just going through the motions of life. I wake up, I go to class, I come home. I quit my job at The Java Bean. I didn't even bother to tell them. I just stopped showing up. I know it's a pretty shitty thing to do but I can't seem to make myself care.

             
“Aria.” I hear him call my name through the door as he knocks.

             
While everyone else took the hint after that first week, he hasn't given up yet. Holden has been showing up outside my apartment every day for the last month. He usually stays for about an hour, repeatedly begging me to open the door and talk to him but I can't do it. The sad part is that I do actually miss him. But every time I think about it, I remember that our pasts are linked in an unspeakable way and I'm not sure if I can
live with that constant
reminder in my life

              I've always been the kind of girl who believes in fate—that everything happens for a reason. Now I don't know what to think because what kind of bitch thought this would be funny? Long-term boyfriend dies tragically at the hands of possible new boyfriend's father? It's worse than cruel—it's Shakespearean.

             
The semester is halfway over now and I haven't decided if I'm going to return next year My dad is on board for me to return home but surprisingly my mom is adamant that I stay and at least finish the school year. I was actually expecting her to be the one who would want me to come home where she could shove the therapy she is so sure I need down my throat. Which, if I'm honest, is the only thing keeping me from running home. I don't need therapy. I know I'm being ridiculous and that I need to move on. I also know that it's not going to happen overnight and that my mom needs to get off my back. Despite what she may think, therapy is not the end-all answer to everything.

             
He knocks on my door again. “Aria please! Just let me in! We need to talk.”

             
I flinch, but I just can’t do it. A part of me wants so badly to let him in and just forget what I now know. It's not his fault. I'm not completely unreasonable. I know that he doesn't even have a relationship with his father but how can I look at him knowing now that his father is the reason Sean isn't here. And if Sean were still here, would I have these feelings for Holden? It's just so messed up, I can't figure out what life would be like if John Davis hadn't changed everything.

             
Maybe I would've met Holden anyway. Maybe I would have fallen for him regardless. But how can I know for sure?

             
“Aria, just—” I hear him let out a defeated sigh. “I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you—I even tried once. But you were finally starting to open up to me and I—I just didn't want to ruin it. I'm sorry.”

             
I can tell that he means what he says, that he really is sorry. Maybe he did try to tell me and just couldn't find the words. I can at least understand that part of it. After all, aren't I the one lost for words now?

             
I don't know what to do. I know it's not his fault what his father did, but I can't help but feel angry that he knew the truth all this time and didn't tell me. He just went on pretending that everything was okay and I think that is why I feel betrayed the most. I thought I was getting a chance to start over in my life, a clean slate. I thought I was ready to make that next step and let someone else into my heart but how can I now?

             
The only thing I know for certain is that if I push everything else aside, one thing remains true. Holden made me smile for the first time in I don't even know how long and if nothing else, I don't think I want to give that up.

             
I stop in my hall bathroom and fix the smeared mascara under my bloodshot eyes that have been dried up for weeks. I pinch my colorless cheeks and pull my ratted hair back into a long side braid. Okay, still not presentable by any means, but at least a little less zombie-like.

             
I open the door expectantly, and look up to greet him, but it’s too late.  He’s gone. The disappointment that washes over me is bitter and I feel foolish for even thinking that after hours upon hours of banging on my door, begging me to open it and risk being turned in to the police by my neighbors for disturbance of peace that he would just stand around forever, waiting for me to finally get over myself.

             
I turn to go back into my hell hole when something shiny catches my eye on the doormat. It's a tiny square package wrapped in sparkling blue wrapping paper with a hideous multicolored bow complete with tinfoil stars.

             
What the hell is that? It looks like something you'd see at a five-year-old's birthday party.

             
I pick it up and open it. It's a mixed CD. Who even listens to CDs anymore? It's so random that I can't help my curiosity.  He had taped a folded up piece of paper on the outside of the case. I open it and find a hand-written note:

 

Smalls—

Don't laugh at this idiotic gesture...on second thought please do laugh because the sound of your laugh is just about the best thing I've ever heard...and if you're feeling particularly generous, throw in a smile too...

There's so much that I need to say to you. So much that I want to apologize for. But most of all I just want you to know that somewhere between painting mud-colored coffee mugs and having a food fight in your kitchen, I've fallen in love with you.
I know that I should have been honest with you from the moment I found out the truth about Sean. I hope you know that I didn't intentionally hurt you. I'd never do that.

But I am a guy, and we're notorious for fucking things up.

You aren't answering your phone, or your door for that matter, and I'm not eloquent enough to write a heartfelt letter declaring my love for you, so I hope this lame compilation of cheesy love songs will force you to admit that you love me too so we can be idiots together. 


Holden

             
I take it inside and open up my laptop to play the CD. The first song's melody fills the room and a short burst of laughter explodes out from my lips before I can stop it.

             
Brown Eyed Girl.

             
I find myself singing along to the cheerful song though my voice still sounds lifeless to me. I listen to the CD once, then put it on repeat to play continuously until I have every lyric from every song memorized, trying to imagine the reason he chose each one.  It's obvious the order of songs was carefully planned, as though he had mapped out the story of us to music.

             
I'm not sure when it was that I allowed myself to love him. But somehow the feelings snuck up on me, and it's too late now to ignore them. Our story started with a hello and all I know is that I’m not ready to say good-bye.

             
But there's something I need to do first. Before I can even think of moving forward with Holden, I need to make peace with my past. 

             
Which means I need to get in that car. I quickly grab a bag and shove some clothes in it. Then as I leave, I grab the CD before locking up my apartment and walking down the stairs to the parking lot.

             
I stand outside the black Subaru, trying to force myself to unlock the door.
Baby steps,
I tell myself.
First, unlock the door.

             
I hit the button on the key that automatically unlocks the door.
Now open it and climb in
, I continue to give myself an internal pep talk.

             
I sit on the cool leather seat. Flashbacks of that night slap me and take my breath away. The way Sean's body looked so broken—the body isn't supposed to bend that way. His eyes were open but lifeless and cold when I finally got my seat belt undone and made it over to him. The screaming and the lights and the blood and just the chaos of that night are hard to forget.

             
Yes, I should have never let Sean unbuckle his seatbelt. It was careless, but I know that I am not responsible for the actions of John Davis that resulted in him drinking and driving that night. 

             
And neither is Holden.

             
I take a deep breath and start the car.

             
I'll need to hit up a Starbucks somewhere on the way. It's going to be a long night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 24

 

 

 

Eighteen and a half hours later I finally arrive. The sun is rising in the horizon
—the pink and orange streaks are just starting to peek through over the plains. As much as I have come to love the East Coast, there's just something about being home that soothes my soul. Though flat and seemingly bare with mostly just tall grass painting the view instead of the thick trees and other vegetation that are abundant out east,  there’s no denying the beauty of the farmlands in the distance like a lovely green and tan checkered quilt.

             
As the sun rises higher, transforming the magenta sky to the blue color of day, I reach my destination. I probably could have driven here blindfolded. The familiar dirt road winding in-between fields of corn hasn’t changed one bit. I'm not sure why I expected it to. I pull onto the paved slab outside the two-car detached garage that is painted the same cheerful yellow as the main house—matching white trim and all.

             
The evergreen tree Mr. and Mrs. Matthews planted out by the side of the house when Sean was born is still there. I can’t decide if it is sad or comforting that the tree still went on, growing a little more every day even though the boy it was planted for is no longer here. I guess it's a little bit of both, this sad reminder of his memory also offers hope that life does go on, that it's possible to continue to thrive through the darkness.

             
“I was wondering if you were ever going to come see me,” Mrs. Matthews greets me from the front door. I still haven't even made it up the steps and onto the porch yet. She must've heard me drive up. She looks exactly the same—maybe a few more gray hairs around her temple but her eyes are still bright and full of life like I remember.

             
Sean had the exact same eyes, that's probably why it's taken me so long to finally come and see her. I'm surprised that even though it hurts, I'm not as sad as I once was. I feel like I can breathe on my own again.

             
“I'm sorry it's taken me so long.”

             
“It's okay sweetie, I'm just glad you're here now.” She opens the screen door and gestures for me to follow her in. “Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

             
“Do you have any hot chocolate?”

             
She smiles, remembering with what I hope is fondness, the many cups of hot cocoa we shared over the years.              

             
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Mini marshmallows, right?”

             
“Yes, please.” I nod and she puts a kettle on the stove.

             
“So how have you been?”

             
“Good.”

             
“Are you enjoying college?”

             
“Yeah, actually I am. Not recently, but overall it's not that bad.”

             
“What's been going on recently?”

             
“Well, I, um, I met someone.” I say the words hesitantly, unsure how they are going to be received. She stops what she's doing and for a moment fear and guilt both cloud my vision but when she turns to face me, she's smiling and a sigh of relief escapes my lips.

             
“Oh, that's wonderful. I'm glad. But why don't you seem happy?”

             
“It's complicated.” I'm not sure if I should tell her about Holden. Or I guess I really just don't know if I want to tell her about his dad. I know just mentioning the name John Davis is bound to cause a reaction and I don’t want to upset her.

             
“I'm sure it's not nearly as complicated as you believe it to be. It's really quite simple. You can either open yourself up to the possibility of love, or you can continue hiding safely behind the walls you've built around your broken heart. But here's a little secret—only when you let those walls down will your heart be able to be whole again.”

             
“It makes me feel sad. Like if I move on, I'm being unfaithful to him.”

             
“Aria, listen to me, Sean would want you to be happy. Quite frankly he'd be pissed off to know how sad you've been the last year,” she says with a laugh. “He loved you so much Aria. Just because you move on with your life, doesn't mean that you've forgotten him.”

             
We sit in her kitchen, at the dining room table that seats four but is made up with only place settings for two. I drink three more cups of hot cocoa and catch up on everything that Mr. and Mrs. Matthews have been up to this past year. She asks a lot of questions about me but somehow it doesn't seem as prying as when my own mother asks. I think maybe because I know she's just curious about me whereas it seems like my mom just wants to know how I'm adjusting to life after Sean as though waiting for me to break again.

             
I spend the entire day with her and it is nice. I've missed her and it was nice to talk about Sean with someone who misses him as much as I do— probably more so actually since I can't imagine what it would be like to go through this as a mother. It was bad enough to experience it as a girlfriend.

             
As I'm saying goodbye, she places her hand on my cheek and says, “Sweet girl, I hope you will visit me again soon. I know you are busy at school but maybe you could call me or email me and let me know how you are doing.”

             
“Yes, of course.” I nod, tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes.

             
“And promise me you'll try to find happiness. Sean will always be in your heart, but there's always room for someone else, you just have to make it.”

             
I hug her again, promising her I will try. She waves goodbye from her front porch as I drive away.

             
I make another stop at my parents house since I figured if I didn't, they would flip out the moment Mrs. Matthews let it slip that I was in town.

             
I can see through the dining room window that my parents are eating dinner together.

             
“Aria!” my mom exclaims when I walk through the front door. “What are you doing here?”
              She pulls me into a fierce hug.

             
“I'm sorry. I should have called.”
              “Don't be silly, we're just surprised that's all,” Dad says as he takes his turn giving me a hug.

             
“I've been doing a lot of thinking and I want to stay in Fairmount. I really love it and I feel like things are good there—not that they aren't good here with you guys, but—”

             
“It's okay, sweetie, you don't have to explain. We know how hard it is to be here,” my mom says softly. “Of course we would love it if you were closer, but we just want you to be happy more than anything.”

             
“I know.”

             
“But honey, you could have told us this over the phone, why did you drive—wait a second,” Mom pauses. “You drove?”

             
I nod.

             
“You drove?” Dad repeats the same question in disbelief.

             
“Yes.”

             
“When? I mean, what changed?” Mom asks.

             
“I don't know. Nothing and everything all at the same time. I still feel sad sometimes, but I also feel happy. It's like for the longest time, the only thing I felt was sadness and anger and those emotions were so powerful that there was no room for anything else. But now, I don't know, everything has changed. I feel like I'm capable of feeling something different now—something
more
, like it's finally okay for me to be happy because I know that being happy  doesn't mean that I've forgotten him. It just means that I don't want to waste any more time grieving over something that I can't change. Sean wouldn't want that for me.”

             
“Oh, honey.” Mom pulls me back into her arms. “That's all I was trying to get you to understand.”

             
“I know that now, which is why I needed to come here,” I continue.” I realized that I needed to, I don't know, I guess 'move on' but that sounds too harsh. I don't mean that I want to forget Sean, I just am ready to stop living in the past. So I needed to see Mrs. Matthews.”

             
“Are you going to see her tomorrow?” Dad asks.

             
“No, actually, I saw her already. I went straight to her house when I got in town.”

             
“How did it go?” Mom asks.

             
“It was good. Really good. I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought she'd hate me—that she wouldn't want to see me but that wasn't it at all.”

             
“Of course she doesn't hate you. How could you think that?”

             
“I guess I hated me so I figured she'd hate me too.”

             
“And now?”

             
“I know that it wasn't my fault. ”

             
Mom smiles at me and for the first time in a long while, I can tell she thinks that everything is finally going to be okay. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Pieces of Me
2.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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