Jennifer Murgia - Leminscate

A familiar figure strode into the office pulling me from my thoughts. My mother reached out, touched my forehead in concern and then said, “Ready?”

As we pulled away from the school, she turned up the heat in the car and eyed my damp clothing.

“What’s with the wet?” she asked, returning her gaze to the street.

Without thinking it through I answered, “We had gym outside today.”

“In the rain?” her forehead got all scrunchy in the middle.

“It actually stopped for a while.”

Which it did.

She didn’t answer.

“We started running track today.”

Which we didn’t.

My mom inhaled deeply and dropped the subject. Why was I lying? What was wrong with me? But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth about Garreth. Not yet. Maybe never.

I stared out the window, thinking how today turned out so miserably. This morning was the only nice part. The part when I woke up to find him there in my room. Now all I could recall was the far off look in his eyes in the car.

My day was crap.

And now my whole week would be equally crappy. No Garreth for the rest of the week, and Friday loomed on the horizon. Ugh. Pizza with mom’s boyfriend … and Brynn. I could see it now, my mother playing the gracious hostess, the smiling doctor nodding in approval at her overly eager display of hospitality and Brynn … who would set foot in my house and butter everyone up. Probably by offering to set up a pizza topping bar or something just as equally witty, while, with each passing torturous minute, planning my demise.

After dinner I listlessly ventured upstairs, leaving my mother behind on the couch, the blue glow of the six o’clock news illuminating the living room. We had eaten with minimal conversation and I cleaned up afterward, my unspoken peace offering for this morning.

She was disappointed that I didn’t want to sit with her, but with my usual excuse of homework, I trudged up the stairs with guilt in each step. Really all I wanted was to be alone and brood. I couldn’t help feeling that we were growing apart with each passing day. If only I had the courage to include her in what was going on in my life, instead of keeping her at arm’s length. But if I told her everything, from start to finish, including what happened over the spring and the summer up until now … Yeah right.

Flannel pajamas beckoned from my dresser drawer. It was only 6:20 p.m. but the day had been too miserable for words. I needed comfort. Maybe I would make hot chocolate in a little while, or tea. Tea always made me feel better.

I opened my calculus book and within minutes everything on the pages blurred together. My mind kept wandering back to Garreth. Was he okay or was he as miserable as I was? I slammed the book shut and hung my head in my hands.

The urge to call someone hit me hard. But there was no one to call. Garreth didn’t have a phone. He had never needed one. I pushed the button on my computer monitor. It beeped with life. The bright glow greeted me and my fingers flew over the keys. Before I knew it, an email to Claire had been typed.

Just seconds before hitting the “send” button I sat staring at the message, feeling utter loss in my bones. A tear trickled down my cheek. What would happen if I sent it? No one would answer it. Her email account was long since closed. Who else would have her email address? MyClaire@buv.com.

The “My” stood for the first two letters of her last name. Myers. But I always felt it was more personal than that. MyClaire. She would always be “my Claire.” My best friend.

My index finger hovered over the send button. I didn’t need to reread the message. There was nothing written in the “subject” box. The message didn’t pertain to anything in particular, just mindless babble … my awful day, how I missed her. I even mentioned how I’d been talking to Ryan a bit more. She would have loved his T-shirt today, a monkey with a banana up his nose. Claire loved questionable humor.

The ebb and flow of the content was more like a diary or a journal entry with no real rhyme or reason to it. I was just blowing off steam and admittedly, I felt better. For ten minutes Claire was alive to me again. I closed my eyes, hit the send button, crawled into bed and silently wished to myself that maybe somewhere, Claire would get it.

My alarm clock woke me up. Under the circumstances, I felt remarkably well. A weight of unimaginable proportion had been lifted off my chest with my spur-of-the-moment email to Claire. I smiled, imagining it had reached her on some celestial broadband. I sat up and stared out the window and felt the empty spaces fill once again.

The rain had ended, but it was cloudy and probably would be all day. Oh, well. At least my feet would be dry today. I looked around as if seeing my room for the first time. Something felt different. I heard my mother waking in the next room. If I took the time, I could calculate exactly how many minutes would pass before she was on the other side of my door.

Then it hit me.

Garreth hadn’t been here to wake me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, desperately trying to recreate the feeling I had all night, the feeling of being wrapped and cradled in soft, warm arms. I even remembered words floating to me, hushed in my sleep-filled dream … words that had said “I’m sorry … I’m here … forgive me …” I woke with the strong feeling that Garreth had come to me in the night. That everything would be all right. He had stayed, here in my room with me. I was sure of it. I looked around, expecting him to appear, but no Garreth. No angel wings to hold me tight, yet the skin on my arms tingled as if they had just been touched. They were chilled as if I had been lying against something warm for hours.

My mother’s dresser drawer scraped shut. Her feet were coming closer up the hall. I looked out into the center of my room. Nothing. I squinted my tear-filled eyes, trying to conjure an image of him, willing him to materialize in front of me just to see him disappear and be satisfied.

My jaw clenched. Panic rose in my chest.

Now. Please.

Nothing filled the space in front of my eyes.

Just the usual knock at my door as Mom’s sleepy steps echoed into the bathroom.

I choked on the lump growing in my throat and numbly sat on my bed. Like in a trance, I slowly walked over to my closet and chose the first thing my hand touched to wear to school. I combed my hair into a ponytail, going through my motions without thinking or feeling anything. Before my mother even got out of the bathroom, I was downstairs making coffee. I grabbed my backpack and keys and shut the kitchen door as she was mid-sentence, calling to see if I was up yet.

My feet found their way to the alley behind our garage. My hand found its way to the lock on the door of my white Cabrio. My butt found its way to the seat on the driver’s side. I started the car and headed for school, impatient to get there for once. I so desperately needed to be distracted. I needed the noise, the hustle and bustle. The gossip. The rumors. The cliques. The people I hated and didn’t understand. I wanted my ears and my head to be filled with their babble so I didn’t have to think of … him.

I parked the car and very zombie-like walked past everyone and into the school. I walked straight to the quad where my locker stood. If Brynn comes down the hall to pester me again, I won’t even look at her. If Ryan meets me here again, I won’t tell him anything. I won’t tell him about skipping yesterday afternoon. I won’t tell him about Garreth getting suspended and what he did to deserve it. I won’t tell him why my car is parked in the parking lot today instead of a gun-metal gray Jeep Wrangler. I will make it through my day just like everyone else. I hope.