I smiled today. Closed mouthed and small. But a smile none the less. Spencer's face suddenly appeared and there it was. The corners of my mouth were actually turning up.
It threw me. I'm not supposed to smile. I'm not supposed to be happy. But for the briefest moment, I was.
She's now sitting beside me. She didn't say anything this time when she came in the room. Just silently pulled her chair next to my bed and sat down. She smiled at me, a little wider than she normally does. I think she saw my brief moment too.
The afternoon sun filters through the trees causing splinters of light to pierce through the window. The room is stuffy and the gentle breeze flowing past the blinds does nothing to lift the air's weight. We sit there for a few moments in the silence. The silence that has become so customary for us. So easy. So natural. Sometimes I wonder if it'll remain silent forever.
And I'm not sure I want it to.
"So how was today?"
She's always the one to break the ice, even when she knows no one is going to come along and pull her back through it. She always breaks through the ice even when she knows she'll probably be left there in the cold empty water by herself.
And I'm not sure I like her there.
"It was ok."
I can see she's happy to hear it, not for the words, but for simply hearing my voice. For knowing I heard her.
"Yeah? Josh is a pretty nice guy, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he is."
Josh is my physical therapist. I just got back from my first session with him a little awhile ago. He's nice and funny and I hate him. He pushes me. He helps bend my leg and stretch it out. He coaches me through the simple action of walking. He motivates me through my frustration. He helps me through my pain. But it never goes away. It only heightens as the simple action becomes harder. As my leg stiffens and the pain shoots through my veins. As the memories of all I've lost boils to the surface.
But he's still there. Funny and nice Josh is still there pushing me through it all. Forcing me through it. I pray that it gets easier. I pray that he's funny and nice enough to make it easier.
Or maybe I pray I'm strong enough. Strong enough, inside and out, to get through it.
I glance over towards her and find her flipping through the same book again. I guess she figures I've finished my talking for the day. But I'm not so sure about that. I'm not so sure I want to stop talking.
"It's Spencer, right?"
Her surprised eyes shift from the pages so easily. I can see her teeth below her smile. They're perfect.
"Yup." Her mouth remains slightly open as she nods.
"Why do you stay here with me?"
The words could've been rude, but my tone is one of friendly curiosity. I'm happy for it. I don't want her to think I don't like it. I don't want her to stop coming into my room at night.
She giggles slightly, eyebrows raised. "You trying to get rid of me?"
"No, no, not at all" I quickly interject, but she keeps smiling and chuckling.
"It's ok." She crosses her legs, holding the book in her lap, her face softens. She takes a few moments, almost like she's collecting her thoughts, before she speaks again.
"When I was nine, I had to have my tonsils taken out and ended up staying overnight in the hospital."
I'm not sure where she's going with this, but I don't mind. I'm curious. And I like her voice.
"It really sucked. I was all alone. Even though my mom worked at the same hospital, I still felt so alone. I kept waking up during the night in my cold room. It was so dark. It was awful." Her eyes squint every now and then and it reminds me of so much. Her eyes hold so much behind them, so much more then she even realizes. Meaning so much to only me.
"But then I woke up and the room was brighter, I wasn't so alone. There was this nurse there, checking my vitals. She didn't say anything when she caught my eyes. She just smiled. I'm not sure if she had to, but she hung around the room a little longer, just checking machines, writing things down. I remember falling back to sleep so easily, feeling so calm and relaxed. The next time I woke up it was morning..."
She pauses, a slow smile crawling across her lips, eyes looking sincerely into mine.
"...suddenly I didn't feel so alone."
We hold each others stare and I get it. I understand. I appreciatively smile at her. We remain there for a few moments. Stillness faling on us once again and it's ok.
"What do you say we take a break from this place and get some fresh air?"
Fresh air. It seems so foreign. The whole concept has practically been lost on me. I've been drowning in this room with it's thick and stifling air. I forget what fresh anything is.
"Yeah, ok."
She wheels me down endless halls with nameless rooms. I hate hospitals. Life begins and ends in these endless halls with nameless rooms. And somehow I've managed to do both.
We slide into an elevator, just the two of us. It's completely silent. No constant beeping inside here and I love it.
"I don't understand where the expression 'elevator music' comes from. Seems to me elevators are always silent when I get in them. Elevator music is supposed to be like soft rock, right?"
Somewhere deep inside I find a giggle and let it out. Surprising even myself. I really have no clue what brought this up, this strange topic of conversation. But I don't mind. I actually find myself liking it.
"Well..." she rocks my chair a little, I'm sure she doesn't even notice she's doing it, she's so lost in her spoken train of thought, "...I think it should be called dentist music, cause seriously, every time I go to the dentist the music is always something from before 1998. You know?"
A happy "yeah" leaves my lips and I find myself giggling again as the elevator doors open. I shouldn't be laughing. I shouldn't be smiling. I should feel guilty. But I am laughing. I am smiling. And I don't feel guilty.
She's a strange and funny girl, this Spencer. But I think I like her. I think I might try talking with her more often. I don't think it'll remain silent between us forever.
She rolls me around expertly, heading towards large sliding doors. They seem to lead to some sort of quad in the center of the hospital, an open area with benches and trees. Flowers and grass. I can vaguely see some people scattered about through the glass.
The doors automatically open and the air hits me like a thousand buckets of cold water.
Suddenly Shawn's all around me. She's in that cold water, this fresh air, these green trees, this warm sunlight. She's pouring down on me. Everything I've been missing is staring me right in the face. Punching me right in the gut. I can smell palm trees and pollen in the air. I can hear cars driving places.
I'm in complete sensory overload, and it's only getting worse. It only hits harder as the faintest trace of a fire fills the air. I don't know where it's coming from, or what's caused it. All I know is what it reminds me of and where it's taking me.
I can almost feel the warmth of the fire from this chair. My nostrils are almost burning from the sharp smell. I close my eyes and I'm there. Suddenly I'm right back there.
Bonfires on the beach. Our nightly summer ritual. Mostly all surfers, and mostly all boys. We were practically the only two girls there. But it didn't matter. They loved us and we loved them.
Fifteen years old and we knew everything. Reckless and free. We knew what life was all about. Invisible and untouchable. We knew exactly what the world owed us. We knew exactly what each of us would become.
We didn't know anything at all.
We'd round up a few thirties of Milwaukee's Best. Bought by one of our older friends or some bum outside the liquor store who got to "keep the change". We thought we were so cool when we called it the Beast like our big brothers.
Someone would bring a guitar. Shawn would always push it into my shy hands and force me to play. Shy hands turned expert when everyone clapped and cheered me on. When everyone loved me.
When she cheered loudest. When she loved me most.
They were some of the best nights of my life. Nothing mattered during those breezy nights. There was always another beer. There was always laughter. Your favorite song always played. You were always surrounded by good people.
And then on one of those nights everything changed. Just like any other night, the fire roared on. One of the boys always made sure of it. Music played. Beers disappeared. People came and went. There were a few of us sitting around the warmth, like moths to a flame.
She was right with me. Right by my side. She always was. She leaned over and took my hand in hers and whispered "Come on."
Barefoot and drunk, we stumbled away from the cracking and popping of the fire. Stumbled away from the group, away from the sloppy boys. She walked me down to the water where the sand was cold and hard.
Hand still in mine, we fell to the ground with a muted thud, our laughter lifting our hearts. We sat there side by side as our hands released from each other. It was cooler down there, you could feel the salt in the air, could feel it falling softly on your skin. Making it sticky.
I was cold in my skirt and long sleeved t-shirt. She noticed.
"Cold?"
I glanced over towards her, lazy smile living on my lips. I knew it was from the beer. I nodded slowly, as she looked out to the water, lips curled in a small smile.
"Come 'ere"
Her arm opened and invited me beneath it, right into the warmth and comfort of her body. I gladly accepted the invitation and rested my head on her hard shoulder.
We sat there like that, letting the gentle breeze blow over us. The voices and cheers from behind us grew fainter and fainter. The group behind us faded away with each crashing wave. The waves that drowned out that other world. The waves that isolated us inside ours.
"He likes you, you know."
Her voice was soft.
"Who?"
I knew exactly who she was talking about but I played along. She laughed cause she knew it. She always had me figured out.
"Justin."
My eyes rolled and a low moan left my body as I moved away from her warmth.
"Whatever." I sighed and fell down to the damp sand.
She was testing me. But there was only one person I liked. One person I wanted. I knew it. And she knew it too.
At least I thought she did.
I pulled a heavy arm over my forehead, letting the back of my hand rest there. We sat there in the stillness of that perfect night. I cast my eyes to the side and saw her dark form sitting there. Her blue hoodie blended in with the night time sky. I could barely make out her head beneath the hood. She sat there, knees pressed against her chest, as she looked out over the ocean.
At least I thought she was looking there.
My eyes softly closed as I felt her finger lightly skid across my bare leg. She traced letters into my shin. Playing one of our favorite games; "Guess What I'm Writing."
I could hear Luke shouting in the background. The words "dude", "bro", and "gnarly" were the only coherent ones coming from his slurred voice.
"Luke is a tool" was softly etched across my skin. The first phrase of the game and I got it right away with a laugh and a "Oh yeah."
I heard her snicker and peaked my eyes her way. She had her fist against her lips, drunkingly laughing into it, as her eyes remained on my legs. She was adorable.
Her laughter subsided with the tide, as she looked back towards it. She looked like she was thinking about something. I closed my eyes again, loving the warmth of her hand pressed against my leg. She started tracing again. My mouth formed a large smile as she finished the last letter. I knew exactly what she wrote. I knew it and felt it deep inside my chest.
"I'm sorry..." a low chuckle "...I didn't get that one. Could you do it again?"
But I loved to play with her. I loved making her say it again. I wanted her to say it again. My mouth opened with a sly giggle. But wet lips covered my laughter. Soft lips awkwardly pressed against my teeth. And before I had a chance to slide mine down to hers, they were gone.
I opened my eyes and found her right where I last found her. Hooded face turned away from me, looking out across the water. My hand still rested across my forehead. Her hand still sat on my knee. The pads of her fingers stuck to my skin. Everything was the same. It was as if it never happened. I started to believe it hadn't.
Then she glimpsed back at me. The moon shone dully on her face, making her teeth look whiter than they were. She gave me that goofy smile and practically laughed.
"I love you, Ash."
Her voice spoke her traced words as she faced the ocean once again. She didn't look back at me. I didn't move beside her. I just remained where I was. Neither one of us did anything. I don't know why.
I lied there so still. Her words rang in my ears as I tasted them in my mouth. I smiled and finally said it back.
"I love you too."
But I said it softly. Too softly. A hushed whisper. The words merely floated from my lips, hanging out there between us, waiting for her to hear them. Waiting for her to find them. But I don't think she ever did. I don't think she ever could. The waves got to them first. The crashing waves snatched the words before she ever had a chance to hear them.
The waves washed them away like our names in the sand.
Her hand's not there anymore. My back's not pressed against the hard sand. I can't smell the fire. The voices are so far away. The suns in my eyes. Birds are chirping in my ears. I'm right back in that chair. I hear Spencer's voice mingling with the honking cars.
I feel the tears. I feel them hotly sliding down my cheeks, dripping off my lips. And as I hear Spencer's voice. As I think of our moment. I cry harder. The tears burn my skin. They cut inside my chest. Those moments from before, the ones of smiling and giggling, they just caught up with me. I'm not supposed to smile. I'm not supposed to laugh.
Suddenly I can't breathe. I'm drowning. I'm drowning in my tears. But it's so much more than my tears. Something bigger is weighing me down. And suddenly I realize it. I realize it's not my tears holding me under water.
It's my own guilt.