Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

“It’s been, like, a year since I’ve done this.”

“Probably about the same for me too. This ought to be amusing for both of us then.”

“It’s like riding a bike.” He stands up. “Ah. This brings back memories.”

I pick myself up. “Oh yeah.” I push forward and go to the end of his driveway.

He follows me. “Where to?”

“Up the street and back?”

“Sounds good.” We go to the end of the block and turn around. Since the sidewalk isn't too wide, we can’t blade side by side. I suggest going to the park but he says he would rather stay close to home. So we head back to his house.

I go into his garage and look around. “There’s got to be something we can do while blading.” I pick up a basketball. “Now this would be fun,” I say, spinning around to face him. I toss the ball to him.

He smirks. “First one to five wins?”

“You’re on.” He races out to the driveway ahead of me and throws one in. “Hey! That wasn't fair! I wasn’t even out here yet to block you!”

“You didn’t set any rules,” he says, passing the ball to me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you have that one.” I roll closer and toss the ball over his head. He reaches up to block but misses and it goes in. “One to one. This is going to be a close game.”

He picks up the ball and makes another shot. “Ah, two to one.”

“That’s it!” I yell as he passes the ball to me again.

This goes on for the next five minutes until it's tied four to four. When he goes to make his last shot, I come up behind him and try to grab for the ball. He lets go right before and it goes in for a clean swoop. He raises his arms and says, “I win!”

“Yes, you do,” I say reluctantly.

He spins around and, wrapping his arms around me, we fall into the grass together. I start laughing and so does he. Still holding on to me, he whispers, “Thank you for this.”

I smile at him. “You’re welcome.” I expect him to let me go to get back up and keep rollerblading.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he is intently gazing into my eyes. My smile begins to fade as he moves his face closer to mine. My heart shudders in anticipation. Could it be…could he be…? He pauses an inch away from my face, his now half-closed eyes still fixed on mine. When his lips lightly touch mine, my eyelids flutter closed involuntarily. I am in a dream. I have to be. This can’t be happening.

But it is.

He pulls away, looking into my eyes to see if he should have done that. As if it was a gamble. Doesn’t he know how much I care? Can’t he tell I would do anything for him? I have been waiting for days, weeks, months for this very moment.

I put his worries to rest and kiss him back.

As soon as I do, he relaxes into it. His lips part mine so delicately I nearly melt into him. There is something more to this kiss but I am not sure what or why. I can just feel it, like a burning desire building up and pulsing through my veins. Without realizing it, I begin clutching his shirt to pull him closer. He must feel it too because he holds me tighter to his chest. With the hand clutching his shirt, I lightly tap him a couple times. He breaks the kiss and asks me breathlessly, “What?”

I wiggle out of his grasp and stand up. He looks at me curiously. I extend my hand to him to lift him up, then keep holding on to it as I roll us into the garage. Without saying anything, the two of us take off our rollerblades and run up the stairs to his bedroom. As soon as the door closes, his arms are around me and his lips are back on mine. I wrap my arms around his waist. A dancing sensation spreads through me as his fingers run through my semi-tangled hair. I hold him closer, his kisses filling me with a thrill I have never imagined possible. My lips drink him in and I savor the sheer pleasure of it. For one glorious moment, I feel as though we are alone in a sky of stars. Floating endlessly. Burning forever.

It is extraordinary.

Until a strange feeling overcomes me, causing me to wonder if I am only dreaming. Everything that happened this summer the second time around always came back to nearly the same thing that happened the first time. My mom is still mad at me for not pursuing what she wants me to. My dad and I still have not tried to spend time together. Kaitlin is just as distant as ever. My future is still an unmitigated disaster. And worst of all, Chevy’s dad still died. Does Chevy really care for me or is he just confused about his feelings after what just happened? What if this will end the same way everything else seems to be? How can I even know?

I loosen my grip on him and pull away.

He stares at me, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

I have no idea what to think. I have no idea what to say. I have no idea what to do. What was I thinking letting him kiss me? What was I thinking when I kissed him back?

Why did I let it go this far?

He reaches out and touches the side of my face. “Adrienne, what is it?”

“Nothing,” I say softly. “I just...I should probably, you know, head home.”

He blinks. “Head home? Already?”

I nod, walking backwards to his door. “Yeah, I need to help with dinner tonight and I don’t want to be late.”

“Oh.”

I know he doesn’t believe me. I know he knows something is off. I know what I am doing is not right.

But I leave him standing there wondering what it is.

Sitting on the floor next to my window, I stare out with my arms resting in the sill. There is a butterfly perched on a leaf of the oak tree right outside. I wonder what she is thinking. If she could read my mind she is probably wondering why I automatically assumed she was a she. It's easy to do that, view something in only one way, even though there can be another option.

The butterfly slowly unveils the back of its wings, and then closes them. It reminds me of the Butterfly Effect, then the Chaos Theory, and then Chevy. Could it be real? Could this simple act taken by this butterfly be creating pain for somebody else somewhere else in the world? And what of me? Could I somehow set one thing into chaos with the simple act of being here instead of at my father’s house? Am I doing anything to benefit the world around me by being here?

Maybe I just convinced myself otherwise out of a selfish purpose. Maybe being transferred back to June was just a practical joke. I haven't done anything to help anybody. It’s all back to where it was. I suppose that’s fine, but what of the chaos that could ensue? What is the point of this if all I'm doing is creating chaos in a different way?

A knock on my door snaps me back to reality. Lyndsay comes into my room and plunks herself down on my bed. “So,” she says, “Chevy just called me wondering if you were all right. He said he has been trying to get in touch with you but you haven't been answering your phone. I thought I'd give it a go myself, but you didn’t answer my call either.”

I reach down and pick up my phone. Five new missed calls—three from Chevy and two from Lyndsay. “Oh, sorry. I must have had my phone on silent.”

“For two days?” When I don’t answer, she continues, “Why aren’t you answering his calls? And don’t you even BS me with some lame excuse either. I know you inside and out and know when you are lying.”

I let out a little laugh. “Yeah, you do.”

“So,” she says, leaning back on her hands. “What’s going on?”

I hug my knees to my chest. “Something…happened on Monday.”

“When you were at Chevy’s house?” I nod but stay silent. She raises her eyebrows. “What happened?”