Chapter 7

Note: About 3/4 of this is the very first time that Hazel and Ellis first came alive on paper. I didn't know their names, or where they lived, or even who they were. I just knew that this was going to be part of a new story that I was going to write. This part is very dear to me because of that. But be warned, this is the beginning of the ultimate cheese. (If you didn't understand that, it means it gets a little romantic from here on out.)

“So how does it work again?” He sighed in frustration. He’d already explained it twice now, but I liked how he told it. I liked to hear his voice when he explained it, though I pretty much understood it all now.
“Explain it just one more time.”
I could tell he was more intrigued by my curiosity than he was angry. His eyes always gave him away. I remembered how his eyes looked when he was mad. They became a cloudy blue, instead of his usual electric blue. And his face became so twisted with the passion of his temper that it made me want to grasp his clenched fists with my small hands and unravel his fingers from their tension. I would smooth the deep creases engraved on his forehead with my fingertips, hoping he would smile at me and…
I shook the stupid romantic thoughts out of my head and looked up at him again.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked.
I smiled slowly. When he looked at me it was simply impossible to lie. I would’ve if his gaze allowed me to, but I involuntarily answered with the truth.
“I was thinking about how you look when you’re angry.”
“Oh. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. Quite a sight, huh?”
I nodded.
“Anyway, shouldn’t you know by now how it works?” “Yes, but what if someone says something and they’re joking? You don’t get a scar then, do you?” The question sounded stupid to my own ears.
“If it doesn’t hurt my feelings, no. There are other exceptions, too. Like if you said you hated me, I’d know you were lying.”
“How?”
He smiled. “Say it.”
“What?”
“Say you hate me.”
“Um…okay?” I paused. “I hate you?” It came out as a question.
He laughed until he was bent over, and when he straightened up he was still chuckling.
“That was pathetic.”
“Thanks.”
“Any more questions?”
I really wanted to ask about his massive scar that started at the hairline of his neck and trailed down into his collar. I wanted to know what words had cut him so deeply that made the scar appear. And, though it was kind of an odd urge, I really wanted to touch it.
“Well, could I ask you something a little personal?” I was surprised at my forwardness. And in response, I could feel heat starting to creep up my neck and settle into my cheeks.
“Of course. What is it?”
“I, uh, kind of was wondering about the scar on the back of your neck.” His face tightened, but his eye color remained the same, so I went on. “I was just curious about who gave it to you. If it’s too painful for you, you don’t have to tell me.”
“No, I should talk about it, really. It’s just…I haven’t told anyone about it for a while.”
“I’m sorry,” I said very quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m going to tell you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Just let me think where to start.”
He paused briefly.
“Okay, well, you remember Katie Anderson?”
I did. She was a gorgeous girl with beautiful wavy brown hair and emerald eyes, but she had left in the middle of sophomore year to move to another state. She was always very reserved, never found without her sketch book.
I remembered watching her sketch in class before. She put so much detail and beauty into her drawings that it made me want to give up art forever.
I specifically remembered one day in an exceptionally monotonous class when she was just finishing a drawing of a boy lying in grass, suggesting he was watching the clouds pass by on a sunny day. Half of his face was almost hidden in the grass and dark, and the other half was facing outwards. He had his hands propped behind his head in a carefree way, and somehow the picture managed to come alive. You wished you could be right there beside him feeling the warmth of the radiant sun on your face and hearing the birds call to one another while gazing up at the flawless sky.
“Yes, I remember her. She was the best artist I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes, she had quite a bit of talent. We were very close last year. Sometimes she’d draw me.”
“What happened?”
His eyebrows knit together. “We started getting close in the summer. It was my Mom’s birthday, and she used to draw a lot, like Katie, but she gave it up so she could make more money and support the family. So I wanted to give her a sketch of me because she used to draw me all the time when I was little. I knew Katie could draw well, so I asked her to do it for me. It took hours, but we’d pass the time by talking and getting to know each other better. And when it was done, we went together to get it framed. It got a little late, so I took her out to dinner that night. After that we got together a lot, and all the while she never knew about my…condition. We spent a great summer together, and remained good friends until school started.
“In September we started dating. We went out for at least four months before problems arose. I hated lying to her about part of myself that was so important. And she had never given me a scar before. We disagreed, but we’d never fight. It hurt me too much to hurt her, and I think that feeling was mutual, for a while at least. So one day, the guilt became too much to take, and I told her. Showed her, really. First I rolled up my sleeves, like I did with you, and showed her those scars, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I’d gotten really hurt as a kid or something. So I showed her my chest and back and even named who had given me some of the scars. That was when everything started to fall apart.
“I thought she accepted it, but she hadn’t. She was absolutely horrified and disgusted at my scars. She told her friends how appalling I was and talked about me behind my back for at least two months before I knew. I don’t even know why she didn’t end the relationship sooner. She never said anything about it until…” He trailed off for a second. I noticed his eyes had become cloudy again over his story.
“Until one night, I was sure my feelings for her had to be love. There was nothing else to describe what I felt. I took her out that afternoon on a picnic in this gorgeous meadow and told her. It was too much for her. Obviously, she hadn’t been in love with me and was planning to end the relationship soon anyway. She shouted at me for at least half an hour straight about how disgusting I was and everything wrong I was doing. She said I didn’t know how to go about a relationship at all and a bunch of other nasty things. Then she stormed off, leaving me to cope with my emotions and the bleeding wound on the back of my neck.
“When I went back to school, I tried to brush it off, but you can’t just do that. I didn’t want it to ruin my life, but I couldn’t get away from it. I was reminded of it every time I had to bandage my cut, and it seemed like everywhere I turned someone was talking about it or looking at me funny, especially her friends. They’d always make jokes and gossip about me whenever I was around, just loud enough for me to hear them. And Katie laughed right along with them and even made some of her own comments about how idiotic and repulsive I was on a daily basis. I think that’s what hurt the most, knowing that she had hidden her real feelings from me for months when I was so oblivious to it.
“Did she ever stop?”
“Not really. She would get her friends to leave me immature notes in my locker saying her new boyfriend wanted to meet me and make me feel sorry about what a jerk I had been to her. They left these about every week or so, until the time came when she moved. My wound finally scabbed after months of torture, and eventually became the massive scar it is now.”
Now my eyebrows were mashed together. I was so angry and frustrated with Katie! My throat burned and a tear threatened to slip over onto my cheek. I felt stupid being so emotionally tied to the story.
“I am so sorry. I had no idea.” I swallowed hard to avoid shedding a tear in front of him. “Hey,” he said softly, “don’t cry over me. I’m not worth that much.”
“You didn’t actually believe her, did you?”
“Hazel, I’m a freak. A freak with a lot of scars. Why shouldn’t she have been appalled? I’m disgusting.”
That was the moment I really started to think through how Ellis’s scars would affect my relationship with him. I tried to imagine him without them. He would obviously be different, maybe not even the same humble personality anymore. When he first showed them to me, I hadn’t wanted to leave like Katie. I didn’t even think about Ellis being disgusting, but my human nature to react to what I saw couldn’t be helped. He was still Ellis to me. In a strange sense, the blemishes made Ellis more of himself.
But I didn’t want to tell him what I thought. It was much too embarrassing. Sure, his scars were shocking, but I’d never have the same reaction Katie did. Frankly, I was sure I could push the fact to the side. So what if he had a strange condition that tied his emotional feelings with his physical body? I could still love him.
Inside myself my mind reeled. Had I really just used that word so quickly? I looked at Ellis, sitting there with a little bit of horror in his eyes, a horror that reflected his own grief and misery. His obvious low self esteem made me even more furious, but I tried not to let it show.
“Don’t say that.” That was all I could come up with in response. Another awkward silence followed.
“You must have lost a lot of blood.” I spoke up first.
“Not too much. It bled for a few days, but then it was just raw.”
Then it was all just a story. There had been no car accident. That was just a cover for the scar that Katie had given him. All of the blood, raw skin, and pain had been inflicted by Katie. This realization hit me square in the face.
“Does she know that she gave it to you?”
“Maybe. I tried to wear high collared shirts at first, but I got tired of hiding it. I told people I’d been in an accident, but I guess she knew better,” he said, reaffirming my previous insight. He shrugged. “I’m okay now.”
“Why were you so honest with me? I mean, you didn’t hesitate to show me.”
“Do you want a blunt answer to that?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “I promised myself if I had interest in a girl, and she proved to be trustworthy, I’d tell her all this before I started to get to know her well, so that she could run away if she had to without hurting me too much. I guess I expected any girl would be revolted, so I planned on her rejecting me right away.” He smiled lightly. “But you stayed.”
All his words sunk in. He was the least bit interested? This thought alone made me smile. And it sounded like he was grateful that I hadn’t left. That was a good feeling to know.
I pasted the last bit of paper onto the backboard, and together we stared at the finished product. Inwardly I sighed. It was over now.
“I can take you home now, unless you want to stay for dinner and meet my family.” He smiled again, enchanting me. “You’d rather go home, right?”
I wanted to stay so badly. I just needed the right excuse, but all the ones I had made up quickly sounded idiotic. I had to answer on the spot, though, so I just used a stupid one.
“Well, actually, I don’t even know if you have any siblings.” I wasn’t surprised that was the best I could come up with. I’d never been good with excuses.
“I have one. He’s out of high school, though. And if you stay, he might be a little hostile towards you, only because of Katie and everything. He’s afraid another girl might hurt me again.”
“Oh.”
“Still want to stay?”
“I think I’ll take my chances with it.”
“Okay, but I warned you,” he said lightheartedly.
“What’s his name?”
“Aaron. Come on, I’ll let you meet my parents awhile.”
He led me through his house, and I tried to take in every detail I could. I noticed some old pictures set up on the fireplace mantel, particularly one of Ellis as a chubby toddler. His dark hair was in a bowl cut and he wore a blue striped jumper. There was another of Ellis and another boy, only a few years older. That must have been Aaron.
I didn’t know what to expect of Ellis’s other brother, and more importantly, I didn’t know how to deal with him if he acted intimidating. The only thing I knew to do was try to act nice and good-hearted, especially towards Ellis.
“Hey, Mom,” Ellis called as we entered the kitchen. It smelled strongly of garlic bread and butter.
“Oh, hi El.” She turned and was taken aback when she saw me. “Who is this?” she said, smiling.
She was like the perfect picture of a homey mother. She was short and small in stature. Her brown hair reached a little past her shoulders. Laugh lines were imprinted in her slightly aged face as she smiled. She wore a floral dress with a pink apron neatly tied around her waist, accentuating her figure. A glass dish overflowing with homemade lasagna lay at her oven-mitted fingertips. Even her voice was inviting.
“This is my friend Hazel.”
“Oh!” She turned to Ellis, and whispered, “Is this the one you told?”
Ellis nodded swiftly. I could feel myself start to blush.
She shifted over to me again. “Welcome, dear! I was just getting dinner on the table. Ellis, would you mind setting the table please?”
He smiled at me and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”
Meanwhile a tall dark man with gray hair and a receding hairline came into the room. I assumed this was Ellis’s father. He was dressed in standard business attire, a collared white shirt and beige dress pants with brown shoes poking out from underneath. I noticed he had Ellis’s exact smile, perfect teeth and all.
“And who is this charming young lady?” he addressed me with a booming voice.
“Uh, I’m Hazel, a friend of Ellis.”
“Are you from school?”
I nodded.
“Well, nice to have you. Dinner looks delicious, dear.” He seated himself at the table.
“Ellis, would you call Aaron please?” Mrs. Lennon asked as she whisked the lasagna from the oven top to the table, which Ellis had just finished setting.
I laughed to myself about how cliché his family was. It was like the picture perfect, Leave It To Beaver family. The only abnormal thing about them was Ellis’s cuts.
“Aaron! Dinner!” Ellis shouted.
“Okay!” A voice I’d never heard before bellowed back. Immediately I heard footsteps on the stairs. Just as I seated myself, he walked in. He looked more like his father than Ellis did. Though he shared the same dark straight hair, he wore it short like Mr. Lennon. He looked big boned, with arm muscles big enough to stretch the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. I approximated his height at about six feet, easily towering over me by at least five inches.
Ellis took a seat beside me, and Aaron beside him. Mrs. Lennon sat to the right of me, and Mr. Lennon was across from me, filling the small circular table completely.
“Aaron, this is Hazel. Hazel, Aaron,” Ellis introduced us.
He didn’t look up or smile, though I suspected he had inherited Mr. Lennon’s great white teeth and grin also. He merely mumbled, “Hey.” The word hung there in the air with silence surrounding it until Mrs. Lennon offered to scoop my lasagna for me. I refused, of course, but she said the very least she could do was pour my water, so I allowed her to do that.
The homey atmosphere made me comfortable, except for the awkwardness between Aaron and me. It seemed like he already knew that I knew about Ellis’s scars. Maybe he was just being careful, but I felt like I was being judged too quickly.
The food was every bit as good as it looked, even though lasagna was never my favorite meal. Mrs. Lennon had added something extra that my mother had never thought of, and it changed the taste considerably.
“So, Hazel, I hear you know about Ellis’s little situation.” Mrs. Lennon said this casually, as though she talked to all her guests about the quirk.
Aaron’s head snapped up immediately. His expression was of worry and a little bit of anger. I knew I had to be careful of what I said about the controversial subject, or else I would experience Aaron at an extreme.
“Yeah, he told me,” I said slowly.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Mr. Lennon bellowed, echoing Mrs. Lennon’s laid-back tone in a slightly humorous way.
I nodded as I took a bite of garlic bread.
“Did you tell her about Katie?” Aaron asked in a low voice.
“Aaron!” Mrs. Lennon scolded.
“Yes,” Ellis snapped back, “I told her.”
“Just checking.” He went back to eating quietly, though I was well aware of his listening ear evaluating everything I said.
Mrs. Lennon put a rich chocolate cake on the table for dessert, obviously homemade. It was almost unreal how good it tasted. It basically melted in your mouth. Her family was very lucky to have her as their chef.
After the meal ended, I didn’t want to leave the comfortable ambiance. Though I was looking forward to the twenty minute ride home utterly alone with Ellis, I felt a tenderness here that couldn’t very well be described, at least in everyone but Aaron. It was a very welcoming feeling, something you didn’t want to walk away from soon. Inspired by these warm thoughts, I thanked them for having me and the wonderful meal.
“Well, thank you for coming. It was nice to meet you,” Mrs. Lennon said kindly.
“Here’s your coat.” Ellis stood behind me with my winter coat.
“Oh, thanks.” I gently took the coat from him and shrugged into it.
“I’ll be back soon, Mom,” Ellis called as he bounced his keys in his palm.
“Oh dear, could you pick up some milk on the way back? We’re almost out.”
I grinned.
“Yeah.” He turned to me. “My car is out front.”
I followed him out the front door and gingerly stepped into his old green-blue Ford. It felt strange sitting next to him here, almost like a date. As silence crept over us like a cloud, it felt even more peculiar. Our personal discussion in his basement seemed a world away when we were submersed in the quietness.
“How’d you like them?” Ellis lifted the silence.
“Your Mom is really sweet, and her food was amazing. Your Dad is nice, too.”
“And Aaron?”
“Um, he seems okay. He seems protective, like you said.”
“I think he’ll lighten up eventually. He’s just worried about me. He seems like a mother, don’t you think?”
“A little.”
“So, what do you think about coming to our demo release party?”
“It’d be fun.” I tried not to let him know how much I wanted to go.
“It’s next Friday at a little restaurant we rented for the night.”
“Is it just going to be family and friends?”
“Anyone, really. We probably won’t play too much, maybe a song or two, but it’ll be a lot of fun. There’ll be some free food and stuff.”
I laughed. “Oh, that’s just what I wanted to hear. Now I have to come.”
His mouth twitched upwards as we rounded a corner onto a quiet street, lit with street lights. “I’m almost afraid Jade might pull something.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Anything she could think of. She’s weird like that.”
“How did Steve meet her?”
“I don’t even know. I don’t talk to him about her much. It gets a little awkward. Sometimes she comes to our practices and acts fake nice. Or sometimes she mentions my scars and how I should do something about them.”
“Didn’t you hide them from her?”
He laughed. “I wish. You see, it was the first time we were gonna meet her, at a practice. I feel so comfortable rolling my sleeves up around my band mates that none of us thought about my arms showing, so we forgot. She came in with Steve, and within the first few minutes she said something about them. We told her that I’d been in a car wreck, but there was a raw cut and a healing scab also on my arm, so she asked about those. I forget what we told her about them, but she knew it wasn’t the truth. After a few times of whining to Steve about him lying to her, he broke down and told her.”
“What did you do?”
“Let’s just say I wasn’t the happiest guy then.”
I was beginning to get a new perspective about the drummer who looked a little intimidating. He sounded like he was a pretty big wimp.
“Oh.” I said. The response sounded weak to my own ears, but I virtually had no idea what else to say.
“Back then I wanted to kick him out of the band, but Dave and Damon helped me see that if I did that, there would just be loose information about me floating around. Plus, when we hired a new drummer, we’d eventually be forced to explain about me. So from then on, we’ve all been hoping that someway Steve would see the light and break up with her, or vice versa.
“Aren’t you ever scared that if they break up, she’ll tell someone about you?”
He nodded, and said in a quiet, scared voice, “All the time. But I know it’d be better for everyone if she were gone. I’ve thought, maybe, if we could get her far enough away from Steve, and she told somebody, they’d think she was completely crazy.”
“That’s more than likely what would happen.”
“I’m glad you think so. The band thought so, too. Well, at least Dave and Damon. I haven’t discussed this with Steve. He’d probably get pretty mad.”
Ellis turned his head slightly and a ray of moonlight his face just perfectly. I could see his eyes looking sadly to the road, and the small dots of stubble beginning to build a five o’ clock shadow. He always looked very sullen when he talked about his scars, which made sense. The only thing that was associated with them was pain.
I turned away. Thoughts about Ellis’s looks and actions were beginning to resemble what Cassie gushed about when she liked a guy. I’d already established the fact that a crush was there, but these thoughts always caught me off guard, especially when he was sitting right beside me. Sometimes I’d force my own mind to shy away from them because I felt like somehow he could hear them echo through my head.
“Do you ever want to be normal?” I realized a second too late what this question actually sounded like in open air.
His shoulders shook with quiet laughter, no sound escaping his closed lips. “No, Hazel, I’ve ever wanted to enjoy the freedom of wearing shorter sleeves in public,” he said, obviously sarcastic.
“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question.”
“It’s okay. I could probably ask a lot of dumb questions about being normal.”
We were stopped at a red light now, about five minutes away from my home. As Ellis gazed at the light anticipating a color change, I stole a glance at him again. I noticed the way his fingers curled loosely around the fabric steering wheel. His index finger tapped the wheel once, then suddenly his knuckles tightened around it and we were moving once again.
I straightened my gaze ahead, but the rushing palm trees and pavement bored me. I was so used to the view that when I saw the frequent tourists snap photos of nature, I silently wondered what it looked like to them. It was hard to imagine living in a place where no palm trees grew, and where you had to travel a few hours to get the smell of the ocean. I’d been to places where sun tan lotion and swim suits were tucked away for months on end, but I’d always been back to my Florida soon after. I imagined I’d live here the rest of my life, if I could help it.
As was getting more frequent now, my thoughts turned to Ellis. What if someday we got married and he wanted to live in a place where it snowed in the winter months? It was a stupid thought, because I knew if we were married I’d go anywhere where he was, but stupid thoughts were becoming much more common.
Much too soon we were turning into my driveway pavement, and it was time for me to get out of the car. I pushed against the door unwillingly, and with my hand on the interior of it I said, “Thanks for the ride.”
Ellis turned to face me. “No problem. Let me know about the party.”
“Okay, I will.” I slammed the door, now that I was standing on the outside of it, thankful I could manage to do that on time instead of linger there staring at his face.
I opened the door with a key I kept in my purse, and found Chris in the kitchen. The scene was oddly familiar, me coming home with thoughts of Ellis in my head, and Chris snacking on something.
We talked shortly about both of our nights, and I mentioned the party. He seemed enthused that we were invited, and reminded me again of my good deed of letting him borrow my car.
I escaped to bed soon afterwards, but didn’t go to sleep without thinking of Ellis first.

Chapter 6

Note: I'm really, really sorry I couldn't get this up sooner. But this is the longest chapter yet, and the next is truely almost done. Enjoy!

For two hours I laid on the floor listening to Chris and his friends having their party and thinking. The floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but that’s where I had written the letter to Cassie, so that’s where I stayed. Naturally, my mind didn’t drift from Ellis all night long. I thought about everything, replaying the whole thing in my mind hundreds of times and keeping the mental picture of his scars in my head.
I still felt exactly how I felt in his basement, the two passions, one sweet and the other sickening. There was no turning back about that now. I didn’t want to treat him differently now that I knew. I vowed that I’d act as normal as possible when I saw him tomorrow.
Slowly, my mind worked through the shock. Yes, Ellis had a bunch of scars, but I couldn’t let it affect me. That’s what he was afraid of, someone running away from him because of them. I still cared about him, but I just had to get adjusted to this. After a while, I seemed to have accepted it. I could think about the day without cringing, and I was confident that I could learn to look at his scars without caring at all.
Instead of focusing on the negative times, like when I had almost thrown up at his house, I tried to think of the positive, like how his face looked when he was talking about it. His expression was so full of passion, intensity, and even a little bit of trauma. I thought about when he said I was pale. The words were so caring, and just the fact that they came from his lips made it even better. And then there was him in the tank top…
I shut my mind down there, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. Talking about a guy with Cassie was one thing, but letting my mind wander by myself seemed like a risk. I had never let myself do that before.
Very slowly I crept up into a sitting position. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to somewhat tame the mess of knots. I was hungry now. It was only six o’clock, so I hopefully appeared in the kitchen looking to see if there was any leftover pizza. There was a slice of plain cheese, so I took it, secretly not caring if the boys wanted it or not. The liter of soda I’d picked up for them was drained, and it sat empty on the counter waiting to be taken out to the recycling.
For lack of nothing better to do, I ran out and placed in the recycling bin. I lingered in the warm garage, not fully wanting to go back inside. It smelled strongly of cars and gasoline, yet there was a hint of outside air. I wanted to breathe that in right now.
Back in the house, I slipped on a pair of old jean shorts and changed from my school shirt to a t-shirt. Sliding into a beat up pair of navy flip-flops to complete my outfit, I stepped out onto my plain concrete porch.
This porch had served me for many years, no matter what kind of mood I was in or where my life was at. One of my favorite pastimes of spring was to come out on the porch and drag along a lawn chair, some lemonade or a coke, and a book. I’d spend hours just reading in the warm weather, just before it turned too humid to be outside for too long. But now it was just below seventy degrees and clear, perfect for being outside.
The sun was almost done setting, but the big red ball was behind the house, so I only saw the magnificent pink and orange clouds it produced. They stretched from one side of the sky to the other, creating a perfect Florida sunset.
I sighed and stooped to sit on the porch step. Sunsets were lonely if you didn’t have someone to watch them with. I gazed out to the horizon, where far away palm trees stood tall. Their lanky trunks and wild arrays of leaves were beginning to darken against the sky. I secretly wished something would happen, or that someone would sit beside me on the porch. We wouldn’t even have to talk, it would be enough that they were there. I knew who I was picturing specifically, but I tried hard not to think about that. For some reason, I always felt guilty when I started to think of us spending time together.
I would’ve accepted Cassie at that moment, also. It was obvious she was slipping away, if not already gone. I questioned if our friendship had been true. If it had been, wouldn’t we still keep in touch?
I remembered the last couple of years. There had been a climax in our relationship, a sweet time when we equally trusted each other and we weren’t afraid to talk about deep subjects. But the past two years, something unexplainable happened, and we didn’t talk as serious as we once did. We always just had fun no matter what. If one of us was down, the other would try to avoid the subject and just try to make her happy again. The trustworthiness took a little while to wear down, but now I remembered. I remembered all the secrets I’d been scared to tell even Cassie, and all the times when I’d pushed back my own feelings of unhappiness and forced a smile on my face so that I wouldn’t have to tell her what was wrong.
And then the next year we only shared lunchtime, and there were always a lot of other people there, so we couldn’t talk about serious things even if we wanted to. The phone calls started becoming less and less, and when we did talk I would notice we were always talking and telling stories about other people. We didn’t do much together because our schedules usually clashed, and Cassie had Ryan to think about, too.
So, finally, our friendship deteriorated almost completely. Unfortunately, I didn’t even want to try to invite her to anything anymore. I knew what the answer would be. She’d be doing something with another friend or Ryan, or have too much homework, or would be working. All of those excuses were credible, and that’s what scared me. She was too busy for me. Somewhere along the past few months, we’d worked each other completely out of our lives.
By now my hand had felt its way up to its place on my cheek. It was almost dark, now, but I was beginning to depress myself. I knew depressed people didn’t like to do much, and that’s how I felt now. Though I didn’t have unexplained physical pain or random crying episodes, I wondered if I could really be depressed. Probably not.
I pushed myself up off the stoop. It was getting too lonely now. I could hear the crickets starting to chirp, and I felt the night air settling down.
Inside the house, Chris was still having a good time with his friends. They were laughing hysterically, most likely about something idiotic or bizarre. I wondered if he had ever gotten depressed, or half-depressed, whatever I was. Maybe, but I doubted it. Chris always had a lot of friends, both guys and girls, and he liked to be around them. He was usually gone four or five nights of the week, especially on days when my Mom didn’t make him stay for dinner, with was very rare. He didn’t like to go to parties but would rather hang out with one or two people at a time. He loved eating out, bowling, and sports games. I, on the other hand, would much rather skip the bowling shoes that never fit quite right or the big crowds that showed up at games. A night spent drinking hot tea and reading was just perfect for me.
In fact, hot tea sounded like a great idea right now. My favorite kind was chamomile, followed by raspberry, and then mint. I always kept up a good stock of those three so I’d never run out completely. Tonight I reached for chamomile, finding it to be the disappointing last bag. That was one more thing to be depressed about. Maybe I had only been a quarter depressed, and was now working my way up to half.
When my tea was finished soaking in the hot water, I deposited the used bag into the trash and sat down at the kitchen table. After the first sip I realized I’d forgotten the sugar. I added that in, and sat down, exhausted from being so lackluster.
I drained the cup within two minutes, and felt a little more energized. Then suddenly I remembered I had promised Ellis that I’d finish cutting up the papers for our project. That was easy to finish, but I didn’t feel like stopping there. I needed something to do. My only real options were either read a book I’d already read twice over, watch TV, go to bed really early, or pick up a backboard. I carefully thought over my options and favored the last. It would feel good to get out of the house for a little.
I called to my Mom to tell her where I was going, and began the drive to the nearest Wal-Mart. It was completely dark out now and drizzling a little. Sadly I realized the weather fit my mood well.
The fluorescent lights of the Wal-Mart did not match my mood, however. I wished they would dim them down just this once, but of course they stayed on, shining brightly. This was beginning to be an irritating trip. In addition to the annoying lights, seeing all the other customers just reminded me of how alone I was. I saw a few couples laughing or holding hands or a mother walking with a child, or two teenagers walking side by side. The only people I saw alone was an older man with car grease smeared on his clothes, a woman looking hopefully in the cheap romance novel section, and the cashiers. Normally there were more people walking alone than in couples or groups, but tonight it was like the whole Wal-Mart knew about my loneliness and were taunting me with their togetherness.
I checked out as fast as I could and reached my car. It was dark now, and the sunset was gone. I didn’t want to drive home right away. If I was there, I’d probably just resort back to my shock.
I placed my hands on the steering wheel but didn’t twist the key to start the car. The parking lot outside was silent and eerily lit with tall bright lights. I had parked somewhat far away from the doors, so the closest car was parked about seven spaces away.
I thought back to the very first time I’d acknowledged Ellis. It was that fateful day at Frisco, just back in August, two short months ago. Again that strange harmony was brought back to my mind. I remembered his face when he sang it. I remembered his hands, curved around his bass, his veins jutting out as he plucked out the bass line. Lastly, I remembered the heat in the room, the sweat on his shirt, and the confusion of his sleeve length.
I closed my eyes and dropped my hands from the steering wheel. Where could I go to get away from myself? Was this the feeling an alcoholic felt before downing three drinks, trying to ease mind away from body? The word depression hit me again. Somehow, I hoped that was impossible. But as the loneliness set in for the hundredth time, I knew if I kept thinking this way I’d probably become depressed.
I turned the key in the ignition. I was ready to face this now. Running away from my problems may feel the best, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. I forced to ask myself questions I’d been wanting to answer, but was too scared to even voice in my head.
First, who could I talk to about this? It was obvious I needed to talk about it. Ellis couldn’t seriously expect me to just bear this secret without ever discussing it again. So far the only one I knew I could talk to was Ellis himself, which easily coincided with the second question.
When would I talk to him again? At once I realized I could open the opportunity for myself by not fully putting the backboard together. I smiled to myself. It took two seconds to start the car and ease it forward. With the bright parking lot behind me, and the palm trees of Florida meeting my eye, I felt like Hazel again.
The next morning, I drove up to the school parking lot, and upon seeing Ellis’s car in it, I smiled. I didn’t know if I’d confront him at all today, but I was hoping he’d at least say hi. If we did talk, I didn’t know if it would be awkward or not. We could try, at the least. Then I remembered that we had more work to do anyway, so we’d probably talk in English class.
As I opened my trunk to get out the backboard, I heard Ellis uttering something incomprehensible into his cell phone. He was pacing back and forth in front of his car that was parked four spaces away from mine, looking very angry. I debated whether I should go over to show him the backboard. I wanted to see why he was upset, so I decided to use it as an excuse.
When I was half way over, he slammed his phone shut and kicked the frame of his car. It surprised me. I’d never seen him angry before. His fists clenched below his waist, and deep creases covered his forehead. He placed his elbows on the top of his car and held his head in his hands.
“Um, Hi,” I said in a very small voice. “I got a backboard.”
He looked up. “Oh, um…good.”
I paused. “Are-Are you okay?” I stuttered.
He let out a deep breath. “Not really.”
I worked up my courage to ask my next question. “What’s wrong?”
He opened up his car door faster than he should have and brought out his backpack. “It’s just that stupid girl again.”
Oh, his girlfriend.
He tucked his backpack behind his shoulder and slammed the door. “Bring the poster thing to English, okay?” He said as he walked to the building, not intending for me to walk beside him.
“Yeah, okay.” The emotion he left me with was kind of bittersweet. Bitter because I’d kind of gotten rejected in a sense, but a little sweet because he’d called that girl stupid. I shook my head at myself. I was such a selfish, egotistical person. The combination left a strange feeling in my throat, kind of like it ached, but not like it did before I was going to cry. Slowly, I walked into the building. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, not even Cassie.
I obviously wasn’t having the best day, but History class made it worse. The teacher misplaced his favorite marker, but he said he thought a student must have stolen it. He complained the whole period because he had to use a yellow one, which wasn’t good for writing notes. I couldn’t see the words, so I didn’t take notes.
I was dreading study hall for a few reasons, one of them being that I didn’t have anything to do. I didn’t want to see Ellis, either. I felt ridiculous for asking him too many questions, and a little bit angry for being cast off by him.
When study hall came around, I walked into the room quietly, not wishing to be noticed by anyone. I just wanted to be left alone, even by Ellis. I took my usual desk, and eyed a pile of books on the desk beside mine. I shoved my own binder and books to the edge of my desk. I intended to create a makeshift wall between the pile of books and me so when the person came to claim his seat he wouldn’t bother me.
I dove into an assignment, tuning out all the other chatter and movement. However, I was fully aware when a form appeared beside me, sitting down at the desk with the books. I didn’t have to look to know who it was. He shuffled through the pile, letting me know that they were really his books and he hadn’t just sat down to talk to me. As hard as I tried to continue working on my assignment like he wasn’t there, I found myself slowly losing control of my thoughts, allowing my focus to shift.
I gave into my thoughts within a matter of moments. Instantly they began branching off into all sorts of different directions. One part debated whether I’d like it if he talked to me. That branched off into how he would start the conversation, whether it was by passing a note or by steadily gaining the courage to ask me a question. The daydream continued into what the conversation would be about. Perhaps he’d apologize about blowing me off this morning, or maybe he had just come for homework help.
Another part thought about what I should do now, in this very moment. It concentrated on my breathing, trying to keep it steady and quiet, as natural as possible. It slowed my fingers, for they were nervous and wanted to flutter around my papers and books. It forced me to look consistently at my paper, instead of stealing glances to my side.
And an entirely different side of me wanted to shut down completely, to return to my feelings of numbness I’d felt back at the Wal-Mart parking lot. I imagined myself slamming my head down on the pile of books in front of my, papers flying in all directions as my sudden movement cause a whirlwind of air. Then Ellis would be looking over at me like I was crazy, which I’d have to be in order to do something like that.
“Hey, Hazel?”
I jerked my head up. Had I heard right? I turned and looked at Ellis. He caught me off guard, how terribly irresistible he looked. He was sitting sideways in his seat, leaning down so his elbows rested on his knees. His head was tilted up towards me, and his eyes were so close to mine I could see the specific specks of blue in each.
“Yeah?” I said softly. The event by his car this morning flashed quickly through my mind. He must think I was crazy.
“Are we working together tonight?” He cracked his knuckles nervously, but his face didn’t change.
“Yeah, I guess we’d better. It’s due tomorrow.”
“Okay. You can come over right after school this time.”
“Sounds good. Did you finish your report?”
He nodded. “After you left last night.”
I pushed my lips together slightly. I wondered how that had looked like to him. Did he think I was scared of him?
He looked to the sides of him and leaned forward slightly. The part of me that was focusing on controlling my breath became more aware of making it seem natural.
He was still looking at me intently. In a quieter voice than before he said “Are you okay? About last night, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” I thought I had a pretty good idea of what he meant, but I wanted to be sure.
“Do you think I’m a freak?” He said it seriously, and the words didn’t match with his tone. I laughed very softly. I tried to avoid that question. If by ‘freak’ he meant different than the rest of us, then he was, though it sounded harsh to say about him.
“I’m not scared of you.”
He shot up from his bent over position. In a louder voice he said, “So, after school today, right?”
I nodded. Either he was shaken by my response, or he thought someone was listening. I hoped the latter.
After the quiet exchange, I went back to my worksheet. It was just as hard to concentrate, especially after his abrupt end to the conversation. It seemed forever until the bell dismissed us from the class.
As I was walking out the door Ellis handed me a folded slip of paper and announced, “Here’s my address.”
I was confused, but I took it without saying anything. He knew I knew where his house was. Once I got a chance to open it, it read:
Sorry I had to end our conversation, but I think someone was listening.
I want to tell you more about why I was upset.
I smiled and tucked it away in my pocket.
At lunch time, Chris came running up to my table. He wasn’t in my lunch period, so I wasn’t sure why he was there. As soon as he got to me he asked in a rush, “Can I borrow your car this afternoon?”
“Uh, no. What happened to yours?”
“My battery died, and my friend can’t jump it until tomorrow morning. I promised I’d go somewhere with Carter today, and it’s kind of important.”
“Well, I have a project I have to work on with someone.”
“Please, Hazel?” He was desperate, I could see that. I thought over the situation. I’d have to ask for a ride from Ellis, which wouldn’t be so bad. And if he didn’t want to take me, I’d just finish the project at home.
I sighed. “Okay, I’ll lend it to you.”
His face melted in appreciation. “Thank you so much.”
I handed over the keys, and he thanked me again and ran out. My friends slowly went back to their conversation and food, while I continued to stare at the side of Ellis’s face. I was usually bored with the lunch table conversation, so my pastime was exactly what I was doing now. It was the perfect set up, too. I could study his face without him knowing, and no one at his table paid any attention to ours. I was kind of dreading asking him for a ride, but there was a certain thrill within it that led me to believe I could do it.
I made sure I went up to him before English class started. He was seated by himself, thankfully, kind of staring at random places on his desk. I went to the front of his desk so I was facing him and stood there awkwardly.
“Um, I kind of have bad news. Chris really needed my car tonight because his battery died, so I gave it to him for tonight, which means I don’t have a ride to your house.”
“Oh, that’s fine, I can just take you from here. Would that work?”
“Yeah, that’d be good. You’d have to take me home, too.”
“Sure. Did you bring the poster?”
We worked on our project in class, but didn’t get very much done. The period was just too short. We didn’t talk very much, probably because of the subject we would talk about if we were alone.
I knew I was looking forward to the afternoon because of how slowly the last classes of the day went by. When the final bell rang, I scrambled to collect my books and shove them in my bag. I met Ellis at his locker where he directed me to in English. He was steadily filling his own bag with books and binders.
“Hey,” he greeted me.
“Hi.”
I hated awkward silences, but sometimes they were inevitable. When he slung his backpack on his shoulder, we started walking towards the door. I was beginning to think his whole afternoon would be awkward.
His car was a small blue green color. He kept it clean for the most part, except for a few papers and a water bottle lying on the floor.
Once we were settled and driving out to the main road he asked, “So are you okay with this?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant at all. “With what?”
“Being around me after last night.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Is that weird?”
“A little. I expected you to leave me alone.”
“Do you want me to?” I thought of this morning’s incident. It seemed like he had then.
“No, not at all. It’s just that when you left last night, you looked sick. In more ways than just physically.”
“I-I was shocked.” Right now I was relieved he kept his eyes on the road in front of him and we didn’t have to look at each other. “I’m okay now, though.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think you could explain it one more time? Just so I understand.”
“Sure. In its very basic explanation it’s this: Every time someone hurts my feelings, intentionally or not, I get a cut. The size and deepness of it depends on how much I’m hurt emotionally. And for me it doesn’t have to be very deep to scar, so just about every cut I’ve gotten is visible.”
“Oh. I get it now.”
He turned his head for a second to look for oncoming cars before making a turn, and I caught a glimpse of the scar on the back of his neck. It had white edges and pink skin in the middle. The part I could see was about two and a half inches long, but it led into his shirt, so it was probably longer.
I recognized his street when we turned onto it, and soon enough we were parked in the driveway. He carried the backboard in and led me again to his basement. When I first took in the room, I remembered how suffocated I had felt last night. The feelings didn’t return, but I simply remembered them.
We were silent the first few minutes of working, but I knew that Ellis would bring up the subject of his note to me. I found that I was right within the next few minutes.
“Did you get my note?”
“Yeah.”
“And you remember how I was upset this morning?” How could I forget, I thought to myself. I nodded, looking up at him. He returned my gaze.
“There are certain people that if they knew about me, my scars, they would be very dangerous to me and my family. Unfortunately, there is a girl, the one that I told you about, that is getting to be dangerous. I don’t know if you remember, but this morning I was on the phone.” I nodded again. “I remember.”
“I’d just gotten some bad news about her concerning me. Her name is Jade, by the way.”
“And she’s dangerous?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “She wasn’t supposed to find out about my, uh, condition. I guess you’d call it that. But she did, and now she’s threatening to spill my secret to a doctor or a specialist. She doesn’t even see me as human. I’m more like a strange animal to her. She’s convinced I need to get help.
“What she doesn’t understand is that once I check with a family doctor, they won’t know what’s wrong with me. They’ll send me to another doctor, and he’ll send me to another. I’ll eventually get thrown out into the media, and by then everyone will know about it. I won’t be able to really live anymore. It’s just not worth all that when I’ve got it mostly under control.”
I couldn’t understand why he would date a girl that would force him into something like this. It didn’t seem like him at all. I could tell he wasn’t one to take orders pertaining to his scars, and I didn’t blame him a bit.
“Oh,” I spoke quietly. “So what did you hear this morning?”
“Her threats are getting more serious. She wants to talk to someone sometime this week about it.” He sighed again, but time his whole semblance seemed defeated. “I’m not sure how to stop her.”
“So, um, why exactly are you dating this girl?” He cracked a smile, and then started laughing. “Dating her?! Where in the world did you get that? I can’t stand her!”
A wave of sweet reality and realization hit me. Not to say he didn’t have a girlfriend, but this wasn’t the girl at all. I laughed with him.
“I don’t know where that came from. I assumed it somehow, but I don’t know why.”
He stopped laughing, but a giddy smile played on his lips. “No, no. Steve is dating her, not me.”
“Oh. That’s, um, strange. Why would he date her when he knows she’s a threat?”
He shrugged. “He just can’t let her go. In all honesty, I find it a little sickening.” He paused to glance down at the backboard, now starting to develop into a real project. “You should meet her sometime,” he said as he stroked glue onto the back of paper. He looked up at me again. “Our demo release party is a few weeks away. You should come, and Chris too.”
For the second time that day, I didn’t know if I’d heard correctly, but even so, it was wonderful.