(no subject)
Chapter 1
1. Nate
Every little detail of that night I can still remember, even after all these years. Whether I want to or not, I don’t think I’ll ever be sure. But the color of her dress, that dusty blue that matched her eyes, the way she laughed and smiled at everything like she actually wanted to be there, the way she’d let her eyes wander in my direction and the sad smile that would spread over her face from across the room as our eyes would meet; I could still remember them all. Any other night that week is a blur, but my mind knew it had to save it somehow. My mind knew that one day I would tell the story of a boy who liked a girl, a girl who had too much pride, a boy who tried to move on, and a girl who finally told the truth too late. It knew that someday, those little memories would be important. That there was no forgetting, not as long as I lived. I was fourteen that night, but I think the world began and ended that one night when the most important thing in my life less than a few months from then had left without even saying a word.
2. Jean
The Eskimos have 200 words for snow. We have at least a dozen names for clouds.
There are a hundred different ways to say it’s a nice day, several words that are synonymous with words like “good”, “bad”, “maybe”. In some languages you can say the verb before the noun and still name sense. In others you don’t even have to make sense to form a sentence.
You can tell someone you love them without words. A smile can comfort someone; lie, cure, deceive, reassure, illuminate. A hug can cheer someone up or make them break down. A punch could wake someone up or start a boiling hate. Without saying one thing, there’s a message being conveyed. There’s a lesson being taught. There’s a life that’s changing. A future that’s beginning. A new road to be followed. Some new way or form to look at the world. You made a difference, and you didn’t even have to say one thing.
Out of millions of words and billions of actions, I assure you, anything is better than just saying “Ok” after someone’s just told you they like you. Take my word for it.
3. Nate
I think I said less than fifteen words to her than night. You can’t blame me though, with
The hawk at my side I liked to call a girlfriend not letting me get less than two feet close to her and the fact that I didn’t know I couldn’t just talk to her next time our mothers met together. And those last words weren’t even sweet. How was I supposed to know that I wasn’t going to see her the next day? I didn’t know that it would be the last time I spoke to her in four years. I didn’t know that she wouldn’t so much as call, write a letter, email, text. No, nothing. She was silent for four years and I had been mean the last time I spoke to her. Jean. Oh Jean. It’s funny how we do that. Isn’t it? One always stays silent while the other one talks. Always waiting for our turn. Always saying what we want to late.
4. Jean
We stood on top of the world. Or at least it looked like we were. The people below us
like tiny ants as they walked down the streets of busy New York. They didn’t stop to look up at the two seventh graders that stood above them on the top floor of a giant apartment building. They didn’t stop to see the tear that could have trickled down my face if I had let it. I had to tell myself that no one cared and remind my mind that once he left I could break down. But only then.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, looking up at him as I leaned against the railing.
At first he didn’t look at me, but continued to look forward, out past the tops of buildings and clouds that spiraled around us. That view. That view we had loved as children was grey that day. I couldn’t see the magic in it anymore. Not after being lied to.
His face then turned to look at me as he answered, “Told you what?”
“About her. About Elly.”
There was silence. Somewhere down in the streets dozens of taxi’s honked, while millions of New Yorker’s screamed to grab each other’s attentions for only a second. I wanted to join them. To scream. To shout. Tell him how he hurt me. Tell him everything.
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it was important.”
I laughed, “You didn’t think it was important? You got a girlfriend and didn’t think about telling your best friend?”
He turned his body to look down at me, intensity in his eyes as he replied, “Who ever said you were my best friend?”
That hurt, but I closed my eyes and breathed before I said, “That doesn’t matter. You
should have told me.”
“I know. But you would have found out anyway.”
“It would have been better to hear from you than from someone else. You obviously don’t know what it’s like to come to a new school for the second week and be told by some girl you hardly know that a guy you’ve known since you were three, has a girlfriend.”
“Why does it matter to you?”
I sighed and looked away from those green eyes, out to the buildings and clouds that had lost their luster the moment I figured out that the last strand of hope I had had was now gone. I wanted to join their multitudes. Become a memory of a once shiny thing that had been beautiful, a remnant of something someone had wanted. But instead I stood there on the top balcony of my apartment building with Nathan at my side, nothing more than a useless, lonely human.
“It doesn’t.”
His phone rang then, his mother was on the line. I could hear her yelling over the blaring of horns, and I knew he was going to leave me. Nathan hung up. Turned to me only to realize I wasn’t going to look at him, and said goodbye to the back of a head of short dirty blonde waves. I couldn’t look at him, not when I knew I’d burst into tears from the lies. Not when I knew that one day, one day that was sooner than I had thought, I would leave. And I, unlike him, would not look back.
5. Nate
“Your mom?”
“What?”
“You mom made you dress up?”
“no…”
“It doesn’t work on you. Take it off.”
Sixteen words. I was close enough.