Author's Note: WELCOME new readers/reviewers! I saw quite a few of you. And to everyone else- thank you for stopping in and leaving your thoughts and feelings, you make me a blushing fool.
XxXxXxXxX
Morning. My eyes pop open exactly at five. My legs are stiff, stuck in their curled position on my bed, tangled in the sheets. Not moving I take in the moment of darkness and the turning fan over my head. It's hard to breathe, I can't make my lungs full, but I keep trying, keep drawing up air from my room.
I kick my legs up and out from the covers and away from myself in order to feel them again.
XxXxXxX
Downstairs in the kitchen I watch my mother make breakfast, which is an event in itself. She hardly, if ever, cooks. But yet, here on this frosty December morning she is awake and bustling about the kitchen. My dad has yet to emerge from his office but with the small hints of Christmas cheer and the smell of a fine breakfast on its way I have reason to be, at least slightly, happy- despite all that has occurred in the past twenty- four hours.
"Help me?" My mother asks holding out a bowl filled with brown mush that is supposed to be pancakes, "Mix them together and I'll start up the eggs." She tells me while wiping off her hands with a Santa cloth.
We work together, not talking. My mother hums an unrecognizable tune and I mix occasionally we'll trade jobs.
This is nice, comforting.
XxXxXxX
"There, now doesn't that look nice?" My mother asks admiring our work of the neatly set table and various foods to choose from.
"Perfect." My dad says from behind us as he folds the newspaper and takes off his reading glasses, placing them in his front shirt pocket. "You two are quite the team."
We sit together, a family, my family. I have a sense of pride soar up from my chest into my throat as I watch my parents interact with out quarrel. I drink my orange juice slowly to let this moment last.
"How are your classes going, Lilly?" My mother questions from her side of the table while cutting up a piece of sausage.
"Uhhumm…," I nervously fidget with the white table cloth, "Not well…. I think… I want to quit school."
Silverware clashes with white plates. My mother's face becomes brained of color. "You what?" She hisses, "No, no you will not be quitting school!"
"But I hate it! I'm suffocating there! I just want to write, I just want to get away and write and be alone!" I haul out all the words with a great force, my chest heaving as I finish, my vision becomes blurred as the familiar sting of tears blots out the clarity.
My dad gives me a knowing look. I told him everything last night in the light of the Christmas tree, it poured from my lips like a flood. He never spoke- what was there to say- but rather held me as I cried and nodded his head slowly.
"I think it might be good…" He says softly to my mother, "For Lilly to get away."
"But that's just it!" My mother says throwing down her napkin, "She'll drop out then never go back. Can't you see, honey, I want you to succeed."
"But what about my happiness?" I question looking down at my clasped hands. My parents exchange unhappy glances.
XxXxXxXxX
Comfort comes in different forms. I lie in bed with a large bag full of jellybeans and stare expressionless at the television as my comfort movie, Harriet the Spy, plays over for the fourth time today. The shades pulled down and the door closed I sit in darkness. I've decided to quit school with or without my parent's permission. I will be the kind of daughter my parents are embarrassed to talk about at their dinner parties. People will ask them whatever happened to their rebellious lesbian daughter and my parents with cringe and remark that they have no idea, maybe I moved to Canada. But in reality, here I will stay, glued to my bed and then one day many years from now I will die here in bed and people will wonder how I died and the answer will be humorously simple- "She choked on a purple jellybean."
"You're thinking about the jellybean death, aren't you?"
"Oliver!" I sit up making the bag of colorful beans to spill.
"Was it orange or green this time?" He asks standing in the doorway smiling.
"Neither, it was purple." I remark sourly to him as he closes to the door and leaps onto my bed then popping a bean into his mouth.
"Ooh, man, if Harriet is on this must be bad news," Oliver says looking up to me then his gaze returns to the screen, "So what happened?"
"Shh!" I warn him sternly, "This is my favorite part." I watch the screen with great interest, even though I've seen it a million times. In the scene Harriet is doused with blue paint by her classmates and in embarrassment she runs home and dives into a tube full of water to clean herself, but in doing so turns the water a dark navy.
"Lilly…" Oliver takes to a more gentle tone of voice, "Was it Miley?"
I fall back into my pillows, "I really don't want to talk about it…"
"Fine."
We watch the movie. A moment passes.
"I broke up with her."
Oliver's face frowns, "Seriously?"
"As a heart attack."
Oliver scotches closer to me on the bed, "But I don't get it, last time we spoke everything was cool."
"She's so messed up, Oliver."
"Tell me."
And so I do.
XxXxXxXxX
Oliver mulls over the news by slowly chewing a yellow jellybean. His brow wrinkles in deep thought and his brown eyes darken. "I'm sorry, Lilly, for both of you… Miley is just confused. I'd say you both need time."
"Time?"
"Time to adjust, to grow, maybe?" Oliver offers with a hopeful stare, "But, I wish this didn't have to happen. Neither of you deserves to feel broken."
I snort, "I'm hardly broken."
"Stop lying." Oliver argues angrily, "You're shattered, Lilly, stop trying to act tough."
I turn away to look out the window, "I don't want to fight."
"Then be truthful."
The television is blue and the light shines brightly over my room. I swallow a lump in my throat and say, "I miss her."
"And that's perfectly normal."
"But I ache, I yearn… I feel so much in places I never knew could hurt." I confess picking at the plastic bag.
"You loved her."
"Loved?"
Oliver sighs, realizing his mishap, "Love, sorry, you love her and love hurts, you of all people should know that."
I pound the mattress with my hands, "But why is it so easy for you and Sarah?"
"It's not easy, it's hard. But we're just not as… well, you and Miley are two very passionate, very messy people and, I suppose, when you two get together it's like… like fireworks. Like BANG, like BOOM!" Oliver explains wildly flapping his arms, "You two are not like me and Sarah we are a current, okay? Like ripples in a pond. But you and Miley, together, now that's an ocean wave- crashing and moving…" Oliver pauses and rubs his chin, "You remember that Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem? That's what I'm talking about- the tied."
My heart skips a beat. I kissed Miley for the first time after she read that poem to me. As I nod Oliver proceeds to explain his point and my mind phases back to that afternoon.
"Anyway," Oliver starts up again, "We're different people with different relationships. And I've always been a firm believer that if two people were meant to be, but somehow separated, they would find a way back to each other, somehow, some way."
"Golly, now, Oliver, you're such a romantic."
"Keeps my lady happy."
XxXxXxXxX
My parents are out, where I do not know. So with an empty house Oliver and I move our pity party into the living room in order to sit close to the tree and bask in its beauty.
"Hey, I've got it!" Oliver exclaims sitting up from his once lying position on the floor, "You're mom wants you to have a plan if you're not going back to school, right?"
"Sure."
"Well," He says smiling, "You can go live with my Aunt Alessandra in New York! That way you'll be close to the theater scene, she lives in the outskirts of the city. It's perfect!"
He looks so happy, I hate to burst his bubble but- "Um, yeah, good idea in theory but first my parents would never let me and second your aunt hates me."
"What?" His face falls, "No, no she was just mean to you back then because we were dating. Aunty Alessandra hates all the girls I date."
"But still, isn't she the bitter hag with all the cats?"
Oliver crosses his arms and frowns, "She has one cat… and she's only bitter because my uncle died that year she came to visit. She's sad, Lilly."
I roll my eyes, "Fantastic, I'll go live with her, two sad broken hearted women with a cat living in NY."
Oliver shakes his head in frustration, "You can be so fucking cynical sometimes, just think about it. I will not let you waste away living in this house not doing anything. At least with leaving with my Aunt you'll get away and be able to write."
I pick at one of my nails, "What if I'm not cut out for playwriting."
"Nonsense, you are a writer Lilly, so stop this and do something about it."
I meet his eyes and smile weakly, "Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because it's not very peppy there, coach."
"Shut-up."
XxXxXxXxX
Author's Note: So… how am I doing? Leave your thoughts.
Unknown lazy ass- I can honestly say that I nearly choked on my water when I saw your review. I can also say that I fell out of my chair from the shock of its length. Bless you. You wrote beautiful character analyses of both Lilly and Miley. And it is of no problem that you couldn't comment before now, really its fine- I'm very lazy myself. I'm happy to have you as a reader and I do hope I never disappoint. Again, thank-you. I apologize if this note seems rather lacking in meaningful content to you, but it's hard for me to express my gratitude.
