It’s April first. I haven’t seen Alex in five months, since the day after the shooting. The gossip about Paco and Alex finally died down and the extra psychologists and social workers have left the school.
Last week I told the school social worker I slept more than five hours, but that was a lie. Since the shooting I’ve had trouble sleeping, always waking in the middle of the night because my mind won’t stop analyzing that awful conversation Alex and I had in the hospital. The social worker said it’ll take a long time to let go of my feelings of betrayal.
The problem is, I don’t feel betrayed. More like sad and deflated. After all this time, I still go to bed staring at the pictures of him in my cell phone from the night we went to Club Mystique.
After being released from the hospital, he quit school and disappeared. He may be out of my life physically, but he’ll always be a part of me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.
One positive thing that came from all of the craziness is that my family took Shelley to Colorado to see Sunny Acres, and my sister really liked it. They have activities every day, play sports, and even have celebrities visit every three months. When Shelley heard they have famous people come visit and do concerts and benefits, if she hadn’t been strapped in she would have fallen out of her wheelchair.
Letting my sister choose her own path was hard, but I did it. And I didn’t freak out. Knowing it was Shelley’s choice made me feel so much better.
But now I’m alone. Alex took a piece of my heart with him when he left. I’m guarding what I have left with a vengeance. I’ve come to the conclusion that the only life I’m going to control is my own. Alex chose his path. It didn’t include me.
I ignore Alex’s friends at school, and they ignore me. We all pretend the beginning of senior year didn’t actually happen. Except Isabel. We talk sometimes, but it’s painful. We have a silent understanding between us, and it’s helped make me feel like I have someone going through the same sort of pain I’m dealing with.
Opening my locker before chemistry class in May, I notice a pair of hand warmers hanging on the hooks inside. The worst night of my life comes crashing back to me full force.
Has Alex been here? Did he place the hand warmers in the locker himself?
As much as I want to forget him, I can’t. I read that goldfish have a memory of five seconds. I envy them. My memory of Alex, my love for him, will last my lifetime.
I clutch the soft hand warmers to my chest and kneel beside my locker, crying. Ugh. I’m a shell of a person.
Sierra stands at my feet. “Brit, what’s wrong?”
I’m unable to move. Unable to pull myself together.
“Come on,” Sierra says, pulling me up. “Everybody’s watching.”
Darlene walks by us. “Seriously, isn’t it time you got over your gangbanger boyfriend who dumped you? You’re starting to look pathetic,” she says, making sure the crowd gathering around us hears her.
Colin appears beside Darlene. He scowls at me. “Alex deserved what he got,” he hisses.
Whether it’s right or wrong, fight for what you believe in. My hands are already in fists when I swing at him. He dodges the punch, then grabs my wrist and twists it behind my back.
Doug steps forward. “Let her go, Colin.”
“Stay out of this, Thompson.”
“Dude, humiliating her because she dumped you for another guy is plain lame.”
Colin pushes me aside and pulls up his sleeves.
I can’t allow Doug to fight my battle. “If you want to fight him, you’ll have to get past me first,” I say.
To my surprise, Isabel steps in front of me. “And you’ll have to get past me to get to her.”
Sierra takes a place beside Isabel. “And me, too.”
A Mexican guy named Sam pushes Gary Frankel next to Isabel. “This guy can break your arm with one snap, asshole. Get out of my sight before I sic him on you,” Sam says.
Gary, who’s wearing a coral shirt and white pants, growls to look tough. It doesn’t work.
Colin looks left and right for support but can’t find any.
I blink in disbelief. Maybe the universe was in disarray before, but now it’s back in alignment.
“Come on, Colin,” Darlene orders. “We don’t need these pathetic lame-o’s anyway.” They walk off together. I almost feel sorry for them. Almost.
“I’m so proud of you, Douggie,” Sierra says, throwing herself on him. They start making out immediately, not caring who’s watching or about Fairfield’s PDA policy.
“I love you,” Doug says when they come up for air.
“I love you, too,” Sierra coos in a baby voice.
“Get a room,” another classmate calls out.
But they keep kissing until music plays from the loudspeakers. The crowd disperses. I’m still clutching the hand warmers.
Isabel kneels next to me. “I never told Paco how I felt, you know. I never took the risk, and now it’s too late.”
“I’m so sorry, Isa. I took the risk and lost Alex anyway, so maybe you’re better off.”
She shrugs, and I know she’s trying to keep it together so she doesn’t break down at school. “I suppose I’ll get over it one day. It’s not likely, but I can hope, can’t I?” She straightens her shoulders and stands, putting on a brave front. I watch as she walks to class, wondering if she talks about it with her other friends or if she confides only in me.
“Come on,” Sierra says, unlocking herself from Doug’s embrace and pulling me toward the school exit. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and sit on the curb beside Sierra’s car, not caring that I’m ditching class. “I’m fine, Sierra. Really.”
“No, you’re not fine. Brit, I’m your best friend. I’ll be here before and after your boyfriends. So spill your guts. I’m all ears.”
“I loved him.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“He used me. He had sex with me to win a bet. And I still love him. Sierra, I am pathetic.”
“You had sex and didn’t tell me? I mean, I thought it was a rumor. You know, of the untrue kind.”
I lean my head in my hands in frustration.
“I’m just kidding. I don’t even want to know. Okay, I do, but only if you want to tell me,” Sierra says. “Forget about that now. I saw the way Alex always looked at you, Brit. That’s why I laid off you for liking him. There was no way he was acting. I don’t know who told you about a supposed bet—”
I look up. “He did. And his friends confirmed it. Why can’t I let him go?”
Sierra shakes her head, as if erasing the words I’ve said. “First things first.” She grabs my chin and forces me to look at her. “Alex had feelings for you, whether he admitted it to you or not, whether there was a bet or not. You know that, Brit, or you wouldn’t be clutching those hand warmers like that. Second of all, Alex is out of your life and you owe it to yourself, to his goofy friend Paco, and to me to keep plugging along even if it’s not easy.”
“I can’t help but think he pushed me away on purpose. If I could only talk to him, I can get answers.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have the answers. That’s why he left. If he wants to give up on life, to ignore what’s right in front of him, so be it. But you show him that you’re stronger than that.”
Sierra is right. For the first time I feel I can make it through the rest of senior year. Alex took a piece of my heart that night we made love, and he’ll forever hold it. But that doesn’t mean my life has to be on hold indefinitely. I can’t run after ghosts.
I’m stronger now. At least, I hope I am.
Two weeks later I’m the last one in the locker room to change for gym. The click of heels makes me look up. It’s Carmen Sanchez. I don’t freak out. Instead, I stand and look right at her.
“He was back in Fairfield, you know,” she tells me.
“I know,” I say, remembering the hand warmers in my locker. But he left. Like a whisper, he was there and then disappeared.
She looks almost nervous, vulnerable. “You know those giant stuffed-animal prizes at the carnival? The kind practically nobody wins, except the lucky few? I’ve never won one.”
“Yeah. I’ve never won one, either.”
“Alex was my giant prize. I hated you for taking him away,” she admits.
I shrug. “Yeah, well, stop hating me. I don’t have him, either.”
“I don’t hate you anymore,” she says. “I’ve moved on.”
I swallow and then say, “Me, too.”
Carmen chuckles. Then, just as she walks out of the room, I hear her mumble, “Alex sure as hell hasn’t.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
