as though it knew the score and thought either way, we’d won.
But as I tossed and turned that night, my brain laced with doubt, repeating his words from our brief phone call over and over, I discovered any small victory in love would only make the loss even more unbearable.
Christmas and New Year’s passed, and my phone never rang.
Dealing with loss on your own was akin to tying a plastic bag around your head and being expected to breathe. Each breath was shallow, stilted, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it was too much to bear, and it’d be my last.
My heart struggled to make peace with Everett cutting ties with me completely. All because I’d attended a party. I refused to believe it was that. I also refused to believe it was just easier for him, but I had to face the truth. And it rang clear and sharp, hardening my heart’s soft edges every time I stared at the silver potted cacti he’d left behind.
His parents didn’t seem to vacate their house, not that they usually did. Then again, I was busy with school and Adela, and anything I could do to take my mind someplace else. It wouldn’t surprise me if I’d missed a sighting of them. Though I did sometimes ponder how they got by on welfare alone without Everett’s help.
My mom’s phone sounded from her purse. I ignored it, trying to focus on my essay for the college applications spread before me.
I didn’t want to go to college, but the idea of staying here, hoping the boy who’d stolen my heart would return and give it back, wasn’t very appealing.
At the very least, I wanted to sign up for some business and accounting classes. Getting a degree that could help make my goals happen faster was boring, but necessary if I wanted to run my own business one day.
The phone rang again, and I chewed on the tip of my pen, eyeing Mom’s purse. She was in the shower. Dad was taking her out for dinner when he got home. It was a new thing, something they’d tried to make a habit of every Friday night since the band had left and emptiness invaded Mom’s nest.
I got up and answered it just before it went to voicemail. “Hey, Henny.”
He laughed. “Steve, Jesus. How goes ya? Long time, no talk.”
“That wouldn’t be the case if you actually decided to call me,” I quipped, taking my seat again.
“The phone works two ways. Ain’t that a funny thing?”
I smiled, not realizing how good it’d be to hear his voice. “How are you?”
“Fucking broke half the time, but rich on life.”
“You called Mom for money?” I asked.
“Nah, just to say hello. I forgot to call last month, and I thought I’d better do it before we jump states again.”
The temptation was there, heavy behind my teeth, to ask about Everett. “How’re you guys doing?”
“Eh, so-so. Can’t complain too much. People are willing to let us play, but going from a town where everyone knows you to big cities where no one gives a shit has been a bit of an adjustment.”
“I’ll bet,” I said, smirking as I clicked my pen.
“We’re opening for a band called The Weeds this weekend, though, so we’re hightailing it to Ohio.” I heard shouting in the background followed by a feminine laugh. My mouth dried.
“Sounds awesome,” I forced. “Tell everyone I said hello, yeah?”
“Everyone, Steve says hello!”
Jeers and hollers pounded my ear, and I laughed, pulling the phone away until they’d stopped. “Guess they miss me.”
“Maybe a smidgen. How’s that friend of yours?”
I paused. “Who, Adela?”
“Yeah, that one,” he said, trying to sound indifferent. “Figured she’s probably missing being able to ogle me and all.”
“Oh, my God. You’re despicable, and no, she’s got a boyfriend.”
She didn’t, but it wouldn’t kill him to tease.
“She does, does she?” he said, tone rougher.
“Uh-huh. Oh, look,” I said as Mom rounded the corner, towel drying her hair. “Mom’s out of the shower. Bye, Henny. Wrap before you tap.”
“Fuck. Don’t ever talk about penis-related shit with me again, Steve.”
“What?” I heard in the background, knowing that voice belonged to Everett.
“Nothing, man, she’s just being gross.”
“Okay, bye,” I sang over the feeling constricting my stomach and chest, then handed the phone to Mom.
“Baby boy, you didn’t call me last month…”
I ditched my applications and left the room.
“Come on, I’m pretty sure me going to prom with you instead of Gray Adams means I love you more than cake,”