When It Rains by everymonday
Chapter Four: Sum of All Your Parts
Someone else's boy, you've had it so hard,
Will you grow up to be you,
Or a sum of your parts just hanging in the air?
Someone else's boy, tell me your convoluted stories through half-rotten mouth
- Azure Ray, Beautiful Things Can Come From The Dark
"Our topic today will be loss," Mr. Lucas announces.
Lizzy, who is sitting in front of him today, leans forward. Her hair is still a bit wet, and he can see the marks the water left on her white blouse, which is much less wrinkled today. She smells like citrus and some kind of flower that he doesn't recognize. William can't decide if it's her shampoo or some kind of perfume.
"Let's talk about loss."
"What about it?" a boy asks.
"That's what I want you to tell me. What it means to you, your experience with it, etcetera. Who wants to start?"
"What if we've never had any experience with it?" Caroline is slouching in her chair with her arms crossed. There's a look on her face that clearly tells the room what she thinks of this assignment.
"Yeah," a girl says, mimicking Caroline's posture. "Some of us have never lost anything."
"That's unfortunate," Lizzy mutters.
"Unfortunate?" Caroline laughs. "You think it's unfortunate that we've never lost things?"
Lizzy turns in her seat, her blue eyes bright with something William can't recognize.
"If you've never lost something, then you probably don't know what it's like to cherish something either," Lizzy explains calmly.
People shift in their seats.
"Everyone's experienced loss, Caroline," Mr. Lucas says, obviously sensing a need to intervene.
"Do we have to talk about losing a tangible thing?" someone asks. "What about losing a game?"
Mr. Lucas nods, smiling. "We can talk about that."
"Losing sucks," a girl says eloquently.
"Yeah, it does," a boy agrees.
"I lost a shoe once," Caroline's clone says, apparently eager to join the discussion. "I'm, like, super organized when it comes to shoes. Then one day, my favorite purple Jimmy Choo that Daddy bought me for Christmas just disappeared. It was so tragic."
"How did you ever get through it?" Lizzy bites out sarcastically.
"Well, Daddy tried to buy me a new pair, but they were completely sold out. Eventually I just had to get through it." She glances at Caroline with a look on her face that makes it clear she's debating something in her mind. She's probably wondering how much her popularity stock will decrease if she continues. Then, "That's when I learned that there are some things money can't buy, I guess."
"Thank you for sharing that with us, Annabelle," Mr. Lucas says, though it looks like he's fighting to keep a straight face.
"I thought this was supposed to be a writing class." Caroline is obviously tired of a conversation that she isn't the center of. "All we're doing is sitting around whining."
"We'll get to the writing, Caroline. We're discussing thoughts right now, and eventually we'll get them down on paper. Now, does anyone else want to talk about loss? It doesn't have to be an experience. It can just be a definition."
"Your definition of loss probably depends on your experience with it," Lizzy volunteers softly.
Mr. Lucas gives her a long stare. "Care to elaborate, Lizzy?"
"Well, I guess I meant that…I think loss has varying degrees of tragedy, depending on what you've lost."
"That's true," Connor Dodges from his government class agrees, smiling at Lizzy. "Losing a shoe is different from losing a game."
Caroline snorts. "Please, Connor. Annabelle's shoe was worth way more than your stupid tennis match."
Connor turns around to glare at Caroline. "Says Princess I've Never Lost A Thing."
"I know a certain card Caroline's lost," another boy laughs.
A few girls gasp with indignation, and Caroline looks ready to pounce.
"It starts with the letter V and I don't mean her precious Visa-"
"I swear to God, Jeremy Cunningham, if you don't shut your fucking mouth-"
"Caroline, Jeremy. See me after class." Mr. Lucas is obviously not happy about the direction of this discussion. "Anyone else want to share something about loss?"
"Everything can be lost," a girl in front of Lizzy says in a voice that's barely above a whisper. "You think you'll never lose some things, that some things are yours forever, but they're not."
"Do you consider something lost if it's taken from you?" someone asks.
"Or if the thing you lost just leaves you?" another adds. "Or if you give it to someone?"
"Well, if you gave something to someone, then you didn't lose it. You gave it away."
William doesn't know how long he can sit in this classroom listening to people talk about loss like they know what it means. None of them have any idea what it means to lose someone.
"I guess that depends on your definition of loss," Mr. Lucas says. "Let's talk about your assignment." He rubs his hands together with a smile. "We've got about twenty minutes of class left, and that's a good amount of time to do some brainstorming."
"What's the assignment? Just write about loss?" Connor asks.
"Yep, just a short essay-" There's a collective groan at the word. "About loss."
Caroline scoffs. "What about those of us that haven't experienced loss? Are we excused from this assignment?"
"No," Mr. Lucas says. "Nice try though, Caroline. Everyone has some opinion on loss, and yours is that you haven't experienced it yet. You can write about that."
"How long does it have to be?" the girl in front of Lizzy asks in her quiet voice.
"A page to two pages." This is met with another, louder, series of groans.
"I thought you were going to teach us how to write," someone from the back grumbles. "I haven't learned anything yet."
"I can't teach you creativity."
"Then what's the point of this class?" he demands.
"You get out of it what you put in. I can give you guidance and direction, like I said the first day, but I want this class to be about you."
William sighs. He is beginning to regret choosing this over French.
Charles sits with him at lunch again.
"So, did you like Jane?"
"Sure." William watches Charles smile, wondering why on earth he feels the need for his approval anyway.
"Yeah, she's really great, isn't she?"
William gives a curt nod in response.
"She's an absolute angel."
Another nod.
"Sorry," Charles laughs nervously to himself. "I'm gushing about her, aren't I?"
"Just a tad," William answers sarcastically.
"I'm sorry. It's just…I feel so strongly for her, William, and it's not just because she's pretty. I know she is. I mean, everyone who even looks at her knows she's pretty. It's not just that. She's kind, you know? She's good. She's such a good person."
William says nothing. Charles is tolerant of his silence, so he supposes that he can put up with this for a bit. It's no different from the days in the summer at Charles's house in front of the television. He doesn't have anything to say anyway.
Lizzy, unlike Charles, refuses to let him just sit there and say nothing. When the bell rings signaling the end of the day, she walks with him from Government to the place where they're supposed to wait for people to pick them up.
"Is the government system here different from the one in England?" She stares at him until he feels her eyes burning into his skin.
"Yes," is his curt answer.
He notices people watching them curiously as they walk. They're mostly younger students, since the older ones all have cars that they take to and from school. The girls have identical expressions of envy on their faces. It's an emotion he recognizes easily, having been on the receiving end of it for most of his life, but this time their focus is on Lizzy. They were probably are all wondering how someone like her got to be talking to someone like him. He's been wondering that himself. The only answer he can come up with is that she's very persistent and difficult to get rid of.
"So, how was your day?"
"Fine." William watches as she pulls sunglasses from her old backpack and puts them over her eyes. He hopes this will make it easier to ignore her, now that he can't see her eyes.
"Just fine?"
"Yes."
"Who's picking you up?"
He stops at a vacant spot, far away from the other students. "My dad's driver."
Lizzy stops too, of course. "How come you don't have your own driver?"
"One is enough for the three of us."
"Just three of you?"
"Yes." He's so distracted by the sheer number of questions she's throwing at him that he doesn't realize his mistake until it's too late.
"So it's what, just you, your dad, and sister? Where's your mom?"
William opens his mouth to lie about the whereabouts of his mother. Perhaps feed her the whole divorced thing, to keep the story consistent, but then Lizzy pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and stares at him.
His mouth stays open for several thumping heartbeats, and finally he tears his eyes away from hers. "Look, don't you have any other friends you could be talking to?"
There's a pause, and an uncomfortable tightness settles in William's chest that makes him realizes that he's not even breathing as he waits for her reply.
Her blue eyes are calculating, but then she looks away, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Do you?"
The only answer he gives her is a very relieved exhale, leaving them standing in silence for a few glorious moments.
"So what are you going to write your loss paper about?"
"That's kind of a personal question, isn't it?" Truthfully, this question is nowhere near as personal as the one about his mother had been.
Lizzy pulls her sunglasses back over her eyes. "Everyone's going to have to share anyway."
William mentally goes through the syllabus in his head as quickly as he can, quite sure she is wrong. It takes him a minute, but he remembers. "We don't have to share every essay. It's just a few."
Lizzy is silent for a minute, but then she pulls a green folder from her backpack. The folder looks like it belongs in a garbage bin rather than a backpack. It's been ripped almost completely down the middle and poorly taped back together. She extracts a piece of paper from the folder that William recognizes to be the syllabus. Behind her sunglasses, William is sure her eyes are traveling rapidly across the page looking for evidence against his statement. He's also sure she won't find it.
"I guess you're right." There's a pout at her lips as she puts everything back in her pack. "So, you're not keen on sharing your loss story?"
"I haven't even written it yet."
"You must have an idea of what you're going to write about."
"What makes you think that? I've lost dozens of things in my life."
"Yeah, but isn't there one thing that stands out more than the others?"
"That doesn't mean it'll be what I write about."
"I guess that makes sense." Lizzy gives him a mischievous grin. "Want to hear a prediction I've got?"
"What?"
"I have a prediction." She glances over her shoulder at the small cluster of students waiting for their rides before looking back at him. "I predict that by the end of the week, there will be a lot more girls waiting to be picked up."
He knits his eyebrows together, confused. "What? Why?"
"It's just a prediction." Her smile tells him she's holding back information. It's as if she's figured out the answer to a puzzle before he's even realized there was a puzzle to solve.
William hates feeling like he's missing something. "Is there some sort of event coming up or something?"
Lizzy laughs. "No. The event's already happened. It's only a matter of time before the results become apparent."
"Just explain yourself." His tone is harsh, but she doesn't even wince.
Instead, she simply clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "Since you asked so nicely." Lizzy turns her head and waves at something in the distance.
William follows her gaze to find an old, faded automobile in the sea of shiny, newer models.
"Anyway. That's my mom. I've got to go." Lizzy starts walking away. William tries not to watch her leave, but he can't remove his eyes from her retreating form.
"I took the quiz in Cosmo, and I think he's totally cheating on me," Annabelle is saying as he walks into the classroom for creative writing.
William feels their eyes on him again as he takes his seat. This is getting rather annoying.
"You can't always trust Cosmo, though," another girl is saying. "I mean, obviously you can trust their articles about how to-" she looks around shiftily. "You know, but, like, they don't always know what they're talking about as far as relationships."
"Or fashion," Caroline adds.
"Well, duh. You look in Vogue for that."
Caroline nods approvingly just as Lizzy appears in the doorway.
"I agree," Annabelle says. "But Caroline, do you think James is cheating on me? He has no reason to whatsoever. I'm obviously the best he's going to get."
"Maybe not." Caroline is smirking. "Maybe you're not pleasing him."
The girls all start cackling and William can tell by the way Lizzy roughly drops her bag on the ground next to her seat in front of him that she's already annoyed. Or she's having a bad morning. Or maybe she's just always like this. He doesn't know why he's so observant when it comes to her.
"You should totally read the new article," the other girl advises Annabelle eagerly. "It gives you thirty new ways to please your man."
"Didn't they have the same one two months ago?"
"It's not the same as this one," Caroline assures her. "This one talks about-"
"Every Cosmo article is the same, guys," Lizzy practically snarls at them. "You want to know how to please a man? Touch his penis! There, I just saved you five bucks a month for the rest of your lives!"
William lets out a guffaw, and whether it's from Lizzy's comment or the girls' faces in response to Lizzy's comment, he doesn't know, but it seems to give the rest of the boys in the class permission to laugh as well.
"Everything okay, Lizzy?" Mr. Lucas asks, having just entered the room.
She smiles innocently and nods her head. "I was just telling Caroline and Annabelle that Cosmo is a waste of money. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Lucas?"
William stares at the blank paper as he's done all week. Nothing comes to him. It's been three days since the assignment was assigned, and he has nothing. It's due tomorrow. He's starting to get worried. He can't write anything about loss, despite the fact that he knows he's experienced it all too well.
"William, can we go to the park?" Gee asks. "I'm done with my piano lessons."
"Really? Can you play me a song first?"
Gee giggles. "Sure. I love to play."
He misses that. Actually enjoying the piano. Gee's new instructor must be better than the one he has now. "I just have to finish my homework first."
"Do you need help?" Gee peers at his blank paper, then back at him. "William. You haven't written anything."
"I know. Clearly I need a lot of help."
After twenty more minutes of staring at a blank sheet of paper, he gives up and takes Georgiana to the park like he promised.
She heads straight for the swings like she always does, and he takes a seat on a nearby bench to watch her.
"It's Lizzy!" Gee exclaims suddenly.
William turns to look where she's pointing, but doesn't see anyone. "Where?"
"You can only see her if you swing high enough." Gee continues to pump her legs. "Lizzy!"
Gee continues to yell, and William begins to feel a bit embarrassed. "Hey, Gee, maybe you should get off the swing, and we can go find Lizzy together."
"No, she's coming, William."
His sister is getting off the swing just as Lizzy finds them.
"Hey, Gee." Lizzy smiles and waves. "Hi, Darcy."
"How come you call him Darcy? That's his last name, you know," Gee informs her.
"I know." Lizzy grins at Gee. "He just won't let me call him Will."
"'Cause he prefers William."
William feels his lips curve up at Gee's defense of him.
Lizzy's lips curve up too. "I'm sorry. He lets me call him Darcy though."
Gee's eyes turn to him, and when he nods, she looks back at Lizzy. "Well, I guess it's okay, but my last name is Darcy too."
"I know. Can I call you Darcy too?"
"No, silly. That would cause so much confusion."
Lizzy laughs. "Yeah, I guess it would. So I'll just keep calling you Gee, and I'll keep calling him Darcy. Okay?"
"Can I keep calling you Lizzy?"
"Call her Bennet," Will suggests. "That's her last name."
"No, I like Lizzy better," Gee says.
"Yeah, me too." Lizzy agrees.
"What are you doing here?" William asks her.
She meets his eyes. "I was doing some homework."
"You do your homework at the park?" Gee looks confused.
"Yeah, there's always a lot going on at my house. I can never concentrate," Lizzy explains, sitting down on the bench next to William.
Gee sits between them. "What goes on at your house?"
"I have four sisters. Two of them make a lot of noise." Then she stage whispers, "Plus my mom is a little crazy."
"Is your dad loud too?"
Lizzy gives her a strange smile and tucks a curl behind her ear. "No. He's pretty quiet. Too quiet sometimes, actually. I wish he'd talk to me more."
"Our dad doesn't talk to us very much either," Gee tells her innocently. "He works a lot."
William clears his throat, and Lizzy meets his eyes again above Gee's head and gives an understanding nod.
"Hey, Gee. How's school going?" Lizzy asks, changing the subject.
"It's good. I have a lot of new friends."
"Really?"
Gee nods. "They like the way I talk."
"Do you like the way they talk?"
"Sure, but I like the way you talk best."
Lizzy laughs. "Really?"
"Yeah. You have a nice voice. It's soft and pretty."
"Thank you." She looks surprised. "You are a very nice girl."
"I know. Want to swing?"
Lizzy looks up at the swings. "There's only one open one, Gee. Why don't you take it?"
"I just had it. Are you sure you want me to go again?"
"Absolutely."
Gee runs back to her swing, leaving Will with Lizzy, like she had the first day they were all there.
"How's your assignment for creative writing going?" Lizzy asks.
"Not well," he answers honestly.
She nods sympathetically. "I just finished mine. Do you like Mr. Lucas?"
"He seems to let you get away with a lot."
"What do you mean?"
"You insulted Caroline the first day of school-"
"She said something to me first." She's obviously defensive about it.
"I know, but he didn't say anything to you about it."
"It's hardly something to give me detention for." Lizzy rolls her eyes. "If anything, he should give me an A for the creativity of my comments."
"Caroline might get an A for effort then."
Lizzy snorts. "No doubt about it, but what does that have to do with Mr. Lucas?"
"I've just never seen him reprimand you before."
"It's only been a week."
"I think you've insulted Caroline every day this week, in front of Mr. Lucas most of the time. He doesn't reprimand you at all."
She smirks. "Maybe that's just because I've never done anything that he believed needed reprimanding."
"No one wants to share what they've written?" Mr. Lucas asks, clearly disappointed. "I know you all had a lot to share with me when we were brainstorming, but no one wants to let me hear their finished products?"
He's met with resounding silence.
"Everyone's going to have to share their work in here, guys. You might as well get it over with now."
"I'll share," Lizzy raises her hand. Her hair isn't wet today, but she still smells like citrus and flowers.
"Lizzy!" Mr. Lucas gives her a grateful smile. "Great. Why don't you come up here and read us your paper."
She rises from her chair with a single piece of paper in her hand. When she gets to the front of the room, she pushes the fringe off her face and tucks some of her hair behind her ears. Lizzy flashes a nervous smile before taking a deep breath and beginning.
"Loss." There's a pause.
"When I was younger, my dad gave me this gorgeous silver bracelet. I remember thinking it was the prettiest thing I'd ever seen. I loved it and wore it everywhere, showed it off to whoever cared to humor an eight year old. One day, after school, I noticed it wasn't on my wrist anymore. My sisters and I were already home by the time I realized it, but my tears and insistence brought my sister, Jane, and I back to the school. We talked to the janitors and a few of the teachers, but no one had seen it."
She looks up from her words on the page and offers a half smile to the class. "The worst part was telling my dad. I was so worried he would be disappointed in me. I couldn't believe I had lost something so valuable, so carelessly. My father wasn't angry or disappointed, from what I could tell. He was mainly worried about my own sadness, and wanted to buy me another one. I said no because I didn't feel like I deserved it.
"A few months later, while wandering around my yard with my dad, a flash of silver caught my eye. It was my lost bracelet, sitting innocently in the grass." She bites her lip and gives the class a glimpse of her blue eyes for a second.
"At the age of eight, this is what I believed loss to be. You lose something, but you'll find it later. That's why there's a Lost and Found, after all. It's not a Lost and Lost. A mother loses her child in the grocery store, only to find him at the register waiting for her. A boy loses his dog because he left the door open, and she comes scratching at the door the next morning. A man loses his keys and then realizes he left them in the lock. A girl loses her bracelet, finds it months later, waiting for her in the yard. Until two years ago, this has been the basic story line of the things I have lost in my life. I am usually always fortunate enough to find them later."
She clutches something at her neck with her trembling right hand, while the one holding the paper begins to shake. "Two years ago, my dad died of cancer."
William's eyes widen. He hadn't been expecting that.
"I now understand the true meaning of loss." She looks up briefly, and he can see her eyes have begun to water.
"The word lost will not always be followed by the word found. It's not an if-then statement. Losing something is not the first step to finding it again." Lizzy sniffles. "Not always."
The knuckles from the fist she's making at her neck are white with tension. "Just because you lose something, doesn't mean you will find it again. It's not some story that always ends with a reunion of thing lost and person who lost said thing. I didn't misplace my dad. He hasn't gone astray. He's not missing. He's gone. There's no way he's coming back."
She looks up and emphasizes each word. "He. Is. Gone."
William leans forward, closer to her voice, hanging on every word she speaks.
Her voice is quieter now, softer, sadder. "Never again will my dad hug me, or walk with me, or scold me, or laugh with me, or assure me he loves me. I can look in all the places we used to go, all the places I think he may be hiding, and I won't find him. He can't be found. No matter where I search, I won't find him."
It feels as if Lizzy Bennet has reached into his chest, pulled out his feelings, and thrown them onto the piece of paper she's clutching so tightly. How else would she be able to describe them so well? His hands are in tight fists under his desk, his fingernails digging into the palms in an attempt to control himself. William needs to keep his face passive, his eyes blank, his breathing even. It's all so damn hard to do, though, when his throat feels constricted and his heart is thumping against his ribcage so loudly that he's sure everyone can hearit.
Lizzy looks up, a lone tear falling down her cheek. "That is what it means to truly lose something."
