Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
Faded Silhouettes
Conflicted
Monday morning came too soon and I hated that I wasn't sick. Every day since it happened, I'd been dying to be sick, to have a reason to stay home. My parents didn't know about Mitchie. When she came over, I snuck her in late at night, and when I woke up, she was always gone.
I stepped outside, fumbling with my keys, when I heard a honk. I looked up and Shane's red Neon was blocking my car. I shook my head and headed for his car instead.
"Good morning."
I mumbled a good morning in return as we drove away from my house.
He smiled and looked down at my shoes before pulling out of the neighborhood. "Are your shoes still wet?"
I yawned, nodding. "Yep. Are yours?"
"Not as dry as Saturday before the fountain, but they're drier than yesterday."
I rolled my eyes. "You act like it's my fault." I buckled myself into the seat and watched the road span out in front of us.
Smiling, he watched the traffic, coming to a stop at the only red light between my house and the high school. The closer to the high school we got, the farther up my body the nerves crawled. Shane and I showing up together would be exceptionally weird. Shane and Mitchie had been more popular than I ever had. I hung out with their group, but the group seemed to have tiers and we barely were all completely associated with each other.
I'd only even been called down to the grief counselor because they'd heard we'd been at the same party recently. Mitchie and Shane's group hadn't even been elitists or anything, but the rest of the school held them on a pedestal. He was a soccer star and a guitarist; she was into theater, choir and somehow made time to be a swimming superstar, too. I didn't know how she had time to meet me every Friday night, but I'd always been happy that she wanted to see me.
"Um, is this going to be weird for you?" I unbuckled as he turned the car off. He parked near the back of the front lot reserved for juniors and seniors.
He gave me a look that suggested I'd said something in a different language. "Why?"
I shrugged as I situated my bag onto my back. "I don't know. Nobody knows I'm gay, and you're supposed to be the grieving boyfriend…It's probably going to be weird. Like, more people will stare."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "You're right…I guess, I'll see you later."
I nodded. "I'll meet you here at the end of the day."
We bumped knuckles and I headed in through a different set of doors, closer to my first period.
"Hey, Alex!"
My heart nearly stopped, certain someone had seen us. I spun around and smiled as levelly as I could. "Hey, Harper."
"How was your weekend?" Her shirt looked more watermelon than shirt and her headband was green and pink with black spots sprinkled across it.
"It was all right, how was yours?"
She smiled and started talking. I was trying to focus on her story, but I saw Shane walk by behind her and I almost missed him, almost wanted to run up to him and walk with him. "Alex?"
"Sorry," I said, bringing myself back to Harper. I tried to sift through that weird feeling that had just overtaken me. I didn't like him in a sexual way, I was certain of that. I sighed. "I need to get to class, Harper, I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later though."
She sounded concerned when she spoke, but I ignored it. "Okay, but if you need anything, text me."
I waved bye and walked away, a small thank you falling from my lips.
I dropped my bag onto the floor next to my desk and sank into the chair. I had this class with Mitchie and although, we'd only talked twice in here, I hated being in this room.
I rested my head on the desk and let the coolness seep into my skin, chilling me, raising goose bumps. I heard the bell ring and lifted my head before Mr. Gordon could give me a hard time for sleeping in class.
#
The library was quiet during lunch. I clicked around on the Internet, trying to do something productive and failing. I stared at Mitchie's obituary for an embarrassing amount of time. The photo they'd used was one I'd taken; I wondered how anyone had found that one.
I had it developed just because I wanted her to understand she was very beautiful; she didn't believe me when I told her. The first time she voiced the insecurity I was surprised, how could she have such a perfect body and be so popular and still be insecure about how she looked?
I gave it to her in a white frame and I'd written "I Am Beautiful" in permanent ink on the white surface. I'd demanded that she put it in her room and I begged her to think of that every time she felt down about herself.
She'd laughed, thanked me with a kiss, and told me she'd think about it. Since it was a gift from me, I assumed she'd probably hidden it away. I'd never seen it on display in her room on the few occasions we went there.
I stared at the smile in the photo and tried to remember her voice. It felt so distant now. I wished I'd recorded her speaking, saying anything at all. I glanced around the library and slowly got my cell phone out, trying to hide it in case the librarian walked by. I looked through my voice mail and sped up. There was one message from her. It was at least six months old.
I hit play and put the phone to my ear. My heart was pounding so loud in my ears, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to hear her.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I'm running late, I'll be there soon. Love you." It was the first time she'd apologized to me about Shane.
I heard a car door shut, breaking the silence of the night. I knew who it was without even looking out the window. I unlocked my doors and she slid into the passenger seat.
She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she turned in the seat to face me. "Sorry." Her eyes were so apologetic. "Shane and I were fighting and he wouldn't let me leave until we resolved the issue."
"It's cool." I really wasn't mad, but I felt like she didn't believe me, because she still looked nervous. "Honestly, I'm just happy you're here at all." I smiled softly. "I know you don't have to come see me. I'm okay with you running late."
She bit her lip and glanced at her phone. "I'm like an hour late though. I mean are you still even in the mood to mess around?" She laughed and opened the console between us, putting her phone inside.
I shrugged and shifted in my seat to face her. "I could take it or leave it; I like your company when we're kissing and when we're not. We can just talk tonight if you want." I was still a little conflicted about sharing her with her boyfriend, unsure if I wanted to be the "other lover".
She smiled and crawled into the back seat. "Can we at least cuddle while we talk?"
I bit my lip, letting my eyes roam over her body. Despite my inner conflict, my desire to be close to her overruled any misgivings I had. "Of course." I climbed over the console and settled myself in between her legs, leaning back onto her.
"So, how was your day?" She played with my hair and ran her fingers over my scalp.
The forest-like backdrop to this conversation made me feel like the rest of the world really didn't exist. I listened to her breathing, the crickets chirped as the rise and fall of her chest lulled me into a state of relaxation. "It was okay. I've got a lot of homework though, so that sucks. I'm happy that finals are coming up, though."
"Yeah." I felt her finger twist around a new chunk of my hair; she twirled it slowly. "Maybe once summer's here, we can do this more often…not just on Fridays."
My breath caught. I'd never felt like she'd been totally into this plan, and after I found out about Shane, I hadn't been so into it, either. "Really?" My whisper sounded hopeful and I hated how much I needed her, how much I couldn't even hide how I felt.
She giggled and it shook me. "Yeah," she said. "Unless you don't want—"
"I want to," I said, twisting around to face her. Our stomachs were pressed together as I looked into her eyes. "I definitely want to." I paused and looked away. "But what about him?"
She sighed. "Alex, can we just…not worry about that?"
"I don't like being something on the side. What sucks most is that seeing you with him, that hurts my feelings just as much as it would hurt him to find us together." I untangled us and sat up. I looked out the window at the silhouettes of trees, their leaves rustling with nightlife, and the lights from the barge on the river, glowing in the distance, the spotlight swinging from side to side, not catching us in its rounds.
"I'm sorry, Alex. We can stop doing this if it bothers you."
I looked at her, more upset than I had been before. She hadn't even offered to break it off with him; she wanted to end it with me? "Why do you stay with him?"
She shrugged and looked away. "I don't want to talk about this anymore." She inhaled slowly, shakily letting it out.
I watched her, fidgeting with her fingers. I sighed, but didn't speak.
"If this is all you want to do tonight, then I think I'm gonna go. I've had enough fighting for one evening." She grabbed her keys and phone from the console and I reached for her hand before she wrapped it around the handle.
"Stay, please. I promise, I'm changing the subject now." I didn't know why I was so desperate to keep her there even after she'd basically hinted at just dropping this altogether.
She shook her head. "I really should go."
I opened my mouth and tried to argue more, but she got out of my car before I could find any words. I stared at her as she started her car and I watched as her headlights swung in front of my car as she pulled out of the parking spot one over from mine. I stared at the back of her SUV until she was out of the sight, then I stretched out on the back seat and stared into the darkness outside.
The bell rang and my stomach growled at the same time. Groaning, I put my phone back into my bag and logged out of the computer. As I walked to class, I fantasized about the different ways I could die in freak accidents.
Several periods later, I was sitting in English and Mr. Potts was assigning a group project. He paired me up with Shane. I laughed as Shane glanced over in my direction; if Mitchie had still been around, this would have been the most awkward group project of my life.
"So, what are the odds of that?" Shane said as he sat down next to me.
I shook my head, still a little giggly. "No idea."
He wrote his name at the top of a piece of loose-leaf paper. "So, what theme do you want to tackle?"
I shrugged. "We could talk about the dynamic between Huck and Jim…that would probably be fitting for us. Unlikely friends in an unlikely situation."
He rolled his eyes, but wrote the idea down. "All right, so can I ask you something unrelated to this project?"
My eyebrows bunched together as I cocked my head, confusion slipping over my features. "Sure?"
"Where were you during lunch? You and Harper usually sat at the other end of our table. I've seen her there, and you, too…but today, you weren't there and Harper didn't know where you were. She said you just hadn't shown up to the lunch ever. Until I saw you in here, I figured you went home early."
I relaxed and leaned forward, propping my elbows up on the desk, resting my head in my hands. "Oh. I went to the library. Why?"
I stared at his handwriting as he wrote another idea down. "What were you doing there?" He had slender fingers like Mitchie's.
"Fucking around, mostly. Why are you so curious?"
He shrugged and looked up from the feeble list. "I was going to sit at your end of the table today, since everyone still treats me like I'm a glass doll."
"Oh," I said. "Well, it's probably for the best that I didn't come to lunch then. Since I'm sure the two of us sitting together would raise a lot of questions."
He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So, these are some other things we could talk about if we don't get to do the dynamic between them."
"All right." I raised my hand and Mr. Potts came over to us.
"Yes, Miss Russo?" He was an attractive, younger man with a smooth voice that even I would love to listen to for hours on end. His light blonde hair was spiked like he was still sixteen and needed to gell it every day.
"Shane and I call dibs on the dynamic between Huck and Jim. Is that cool?"
Mr. Potts laughed and nodded, walking up to the board. "That's fine." He wrote "Huck + Jim Friendship – Russo + Gray" on the chalkboard and looked at us. "Happy?"
I nodded. "Thanks, Mr. P."
"Yep." He went back to his desk and started reading over some essays for another class.
"So, do you want to work on this after school today?" Shane scribbled out the other two options he'd written down.
Shrugging, I flipped through my copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. "Sure. My house or yours?"
"Since I'm driving, we could do yours, that way I can save some gas when I leave. Or I can take you to your house and you can meet me at my house. Or I can take you to my house and just take you home later. Any of these options are all right."
"We can swing by my house and get my car, that's fine." I glanced at the clock and sighed. I didn't want the period to be end, but I was ready to leave school. "Should I meet you at your locker or the car?"
"Wherever. I can find you after next period and we can decide then." He opened his folder and slipped the loose-leaf paper into it as the bell sounded. He shoved it into his bag.
Grabbing my bag, I swung it over my shoulder. "I'll just meet you at the car."
#
"Mitchie!"
My eyes shot open as I realized I'd been screaming out loud. Calming down once I established I was in my bed, alone, I resituated myself, trying to get comfortable, trying to not think about the dream I'd just woken from. I looked around my messy room; I needed to pick up my dirty clothes, put things back in their spots. My eyelids finally forced me to give them attention and I allowed it; I didn't want to be awake anymore.
"Alex?" My body shook and I opened my eyes, ready to punch the culprit.
"What?"
My mom's laugh sounded too loud in my half-awake state. "You sound like a bundle of joy." She walked out of my room, pausing in the doorway. "Are you getting up? You've got school."
I shoved my head under the pillow and stifled the scream building inside of me.
I went to the bathroom and stared at the toilet, wondering if I could force myself to vomit just to skip classes. Cringing at the thought of tasting the bitter bile or last night's dinner, I got ready as quickly as possible. If I couldn't stop today from happening, maybe I could rush through it.
I walked outside to see Shane pulling into the driveway. I slid into the passenger seat. "You know, you don't have to pick me up, right?" I buckled my belt as he pulled out of the driveway.
He shrugged. "It'd be a waste if I didn't pick you up. You live, like, a neighborhood over and I like your company."
I flipped through his radio presets as we sat at a stop sign. "Do you know if Mitchie ever tried killing herself before now?" My question sounded as rushed and uncoordinated out loud as it had in my head. I hadn't really meant to ask, not in such a clumsy manner, but after the third night of having dreams like last night, I needed to know if my brain was creating scenarios, or if it watching her toss herself into the river last night was something that could have happened in reality.
He shook his head slowly. "Not that I know of." He sighed. "Maybe we could not talk about her right now. She sort of bums me out."
"Yeah, but…I still don't feel like I knew her at all." I fidgeted with the strap of my bag sitting between my feet on the floor.
"Neither do I." He parked the car and gave me a sad, small smile.
Sighing, I got out of the car, tossed my bag on and glanced at him. "See you later."
#
Seven and a half hours later, Shane and I sat in my messy room, mulling over information for our project. I hadn't been in the mood to talk to him or anyone really after the way we ended our conversation in the car, so I'd avoided the lunchroom again. When we saw each other in English, Mr. Potts had taken forty minutes to discuss "the history of Huck Finn in the classroom," so Shane and I couldn't speak there either.
I wanted his friendship, but at the same time, it was hard to look at him. I was used to eyeing him in envy, but now, he reminded me of Mitchie too much: the way he mumbled song lyrics randomly, the precision with which he wrote every single letter, even how he chewed his fucking food reminded me of her.
He put his pen down and looked up. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I flipped through my paperback Twain, looking for useable quotes.
"Have you ever been attracted to a guy?"
I paused. Several guys came to mind: Troy from sixth grade, Nathan from seventh grade, Ricky from ninth, Chris last year. I'd found all of them extremely attractive, but date them? Probably not. "Dating-worthy, no, but I've found a few obsession worthy. But if you're asking if I know when a guy is good looking, then yes. I can tell when a guy or girl is attractive without being attracted to them. Why?"
He stared, like I'd just rocked his world. "Cool. Have you ever dated a guy?"
Nodding, I set my book down. "Yeah, in eighth grade, I dated a guy named Tim, but it didn't last long." I picked at a hangnail on my index finger.
"Cool," he said, again, in the same vacant voice. He sounded like he was in awe or as if what I'd just said was confusing and he was dazed. I didn't know which.
I laughed from the nervous tension between us. "I guess."
I yanked the dangling thread of skin, drawing blood. I wiped the strand of skin onto my jeans and sucked on the bloody dot. The metallic taste seeped into my mouth and he watched, a weird look in his eyes. Sighing, he shook his head and looked away. "So, the project…" He continued speaking, but I stopped listening.
He left around six, but my mom saw him and asked about him during our usual Tuesday night dinner. I evaded the questions as easily as I could manage. I pushed most of my food around the plate, while my mom carried about her day.
"So, how was school?" She chewed a bite of mashed potatoes, looking at my expectantly.
"It was okay. Harper was sick today…it might be mono, so I should probably get checked soon." I didn't know why I was fabricating this story, but I couldn't take it back now.
"Why?" She stabbed green beans on to her fork and took a bite.
I copied her actions and let the chewed beans slide down my throat. I took a drink from my glass of water. "We share vending machine drinks sometimes." I picked up a few more green beans on my fork.
She eyed me; I knew she thought I was lying, but I knew she wouldn't argue. "We'll see if you start feeling bad first, okay?"
I nodded as I pushed some mashed potatoes slowly towards the spot the green beans had been in a minute ago. Since the incident, I hadn't been very talkative at our little mother-daughter Tuesday night dinners.
Her fork clanged against the plate as she exhaled heavily. "Alex, look at me."
I lifted my head, surprised by her annoyance.
"What's wrong? You've been acting really weird lately. Did you know the girl who killed herself at your school?"
I lowered my head again. None of my mostly uneaten food looked edible anymore. "Not really. We knew some of the same people, but…I don't know."
"Are you sure? I've heard you shouting in the middle of the night."
My blood iced over. "I—I don't know. I've just been having some nightmares lately."
"About her?"
I looked up to find her eyes were asking a very different question. Licking my lips, I stared at her.
"I'm not stupid, Alex. I haven't heard you sneaking anyone into your room since it happened."
I shifted in my seat. My mouth felt full of cotton and I hadn't even smoked. "Why are you bringing this up? Why can't this just be something we don't talk about?"
"Because I don't want my daughter to shoot herself in a fucking parking lot!" Her voice rose with every word, cracked on the last. "You've been moping around here for a few weeks. Almost every time I pass by your door, I think I hear you sobbing. You've been extra distant, and you're not eating another real meal I've cooked since it happened."
I stared at my food as goose bumps coated my skin. She didn't need to know I fantasized about dying, that I wished I could kill myself.
"Alex?" Her voice still had a desperate current in it.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and looked up. I wasn't prepared for the pain and worry surging through her face, in her eyes. I opened my mouth to lie, but nothing came out, so I closed it.
"Who was she, Alex? Was she your girlfriend?"
My mouth fell open. I felt my eyes transform into giant round records.
"Yes?" She reached for my hand over the table and held it.
I stayed frozen, trying to figure out where I slipped up, how she knew.
"Sweetheart, are you okay?" Shaky and wispy, her voice sounded distant in my head as I shook it back and forth so fast she blurred at the edges, or that may have been from the tears. Realizing I had more droplets filing in, my fork clattered onto my plate as I took my other hand back from her hold and covered my face with both hands. I took a deep breath and tried to force myself to get it together.
"I'm going to bed. I'm sorry, Mom."
She brought her fist to her mouth and held it against her lips as I turned to leave the room. She looked at me the way people looked at Shan: like I was fragile, full of a sympathetic sadness they'd never understand.
I couldn't explain it to her; I could hardly voice it out loud. I felt a little responsible for everything. She could have been happy and normal and alive, with Shane if I hadn't been there that first night. If it hadn't been me, maybe she would have had an awful experience with dumb girl who would have just fucked her and left; maybe she would have decided to never go back.
