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I wrote this in one sitting, the night before a friend of mine moved to the other side of the country.

To Joseé, a dear friend.  I already miss you.

 

 

 

 

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Sometimes you meet people who you know you will never forget.  Those people who leave footprints in your sand that the tide will never wash away.  Those who have that special place in your heart that cannot be replaced by anyone else. 

For Tristan, that person was Joseé.

Joseé was Joseé; not Josie, not Jose, just Joseé.   Simply, beautifully Joseé.  She was a short girl with bright green eyes and thick lashes, hair the color of charred wood.  She was smart and sarcastic, fairly good at every school subject, but never knew what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.  Not knowing what she wanted was what she wanted.  She was a laid-back girl, liking nothing more than to relax and soak up the sun�"which she rarely saw in Oregon.

She was everything that Tristan wanted.

He smiled at her when she passed, and she smiled back.  He made stupid jokes that the other guys teased him about, but he didn’t care.  Anything to hear her contagious laughter that erupted like water rapids.  He could tell that she liked him.  But did she like him enough to love him?  He didn’t have the courage to ask.

That was their sophomore year.  A year of hoping and praying that their friendship would blossom into something more than just a spring flower peeking out from the melting ice.  Their junior year came, and it seemed like they were growing fonder of each other than ever.

Then something changed.  Tristan had always known that she was away from her family back in Florida, but he never really gave it much thought.

Until the day she came to school, her eyes rimmed with red and swollen.

He asked her what was wrong, but she walked past him without a word or even a passing glance.

He realized that she did want something.  And it wasn’t him.

She wanted to go home.

 

~*~

 

            Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep beep beep beep�"Tristan groaned and turned over, slamming his alarm clock with his fist.  Stupid thing ruined a perfectly good dream of In-n-Out burgers and milkshakes.

            Monday.  LOL.  Great.  Fantastic.  Not.  Every swear word Tristan knew (and a few that he just made up) echoed like a Chinese gong going off in his head.  He groaned again and swung up, scratching at his short brown hair.  After ten minutes he finally dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

            He thought of Josee as he went into the kitchen, clean-shaven and all ready in his school uniform.  He stuck a Pop-Tart in the toaster and leaned against the counter.  He wanted to do something to make Josee feel better.  He didn’t blame her for missing her family; he knew he would miss his parents and his sister too if he was so far away from them all the time.

            “Mornin, ugly.”  sneered Margaret as she lazily walked into the kitchen.  She was dressed in her black pajamas with the pink hearts all over and a white bathrobe.  She reached into a cabinet for a mug.  “Coffee?”

            “Sure.”  said Tristan thoughtlessly.  Margaret raised an eyebrow at him and grabbed another mug from the cabinet.

            “Everything okay, nugget?”  she asked, doing her thing with the coffee maker.  She had the habit of calling Tristan a variety of nicknames.  Nugget was one of them, because he was rather short.  In fact, he wasn’t much taller�"or thicker�"than Josee.

            “Yeah.  Well, no…”

            “Oh?  What’s up?”  The coffee maker beeped and the smell of fresh brewed coffee wafted through the air within seconds.

            “Nothing.”

            Margaret crossed her arms and stared at him.  “Girl problems.  I’ve seen this time and time again.  Now let me tell you a story, o little brother of mine.  There was a bird, and a bee�"“

            “Shut up, Margaret.”  Tristan snapped, flicking a pen cap at her.  She dodged it effortlessly and it rolled along the wood floor.

            “I’m only teasing.”  she said, pouring coffee for herself and Tristan.  She put a half-teaspoon of sugar in his, and four teaspoons in her own.  She pushed the mug at Tristan.  “But seriously; anything you want to talk to me about?”

            “Not really.”  said Tristan, matter-of-factly.  He poured his coffee into a travel mug.  “I’m gonna head out.”  He stuck the pop tart in his mouth.

            “Allrighty then.  Have a good day at school, Trissy.”

 

~*~

 

            “What the--?  I didn’t even know that was anatomically possible.”  Tristan heard Gabriel say as he walked up the stairs.  When he approached, Gabriel turned to him with a wide grin and opened his mouth to speak, but Tristan raised his hand.

“No thanks, I don’t really want to know.  It’s too early.”  he said, with a convincing yawn.  Gabriel shrugged.  “Whatever, man.”

Tristan walked into the science classroom for Chemistry, where Josee was seated in-between Ava and Nicolette.  They were chattering about some chick flick that Josee didn’t seem too interested in, but she laughed along anyway.  She seemed perfectly fine today; Tristan wondered if she had forgotten about yesterday.

            “Mornin’, Josee.”  said Tristan, offering a smile.  Josee smiled back, briefly, then lowered her gaze and returned her attention to Nicolette’s story.  That frustrated Tristan for some reason, and he threw his backpack on the table with a loud thud before walking out of the room.

            “Duuuude, seriously, I have to tell you about this one video on YouTube.  You have to watch it; it’s so effing hilarious�"“  said Gabriel.

            “Later.”  said Tristan, shaking his head.  “Bathroom.”

            He stayed in the bathroom until the bell rang for prayers.  He didn’t look at Josee when he held the door open for her and the other girls to pass.

            The morning classes were followed by Mass.  It all seemed to go by like a whir.  Lunch was the same.  Tristan didn’t feel like talking to the other guys about football, inappropriate song lyrics, strange fighting techniques, or stupid, pointless movies concerning stupid, pointless people doing stupid, pointless things.  He didn’t feel like doing anything.

            He jabbed quarters into the soda machine and leaned his forehead against the button for ‘Frost’ Gatorade.  The sound of the plastic bottle falling through the machine rattled through his ears.  When he looked up, Josee was standing there in the girl’s (cough) hideous (cough) P.E. uniform.  It consisted of a red polo that looked horribly mismatched with off-blue pants that resembled late 1800s bloomers.  Tristan was sure that they were called koolots�"something like that.

            “Is something wrong?”  asked Josee, not looking particularly concerned.

            “No.  What are you doing?”  He unscrewed the cap of his Gatorade.

            “I’m baking lasagna.”  she said, nodding sarcastically.  Tristan couldn’t help but smirk.  “What does it look like I’m doing?  I’m off to my favorite class ever.”

            Tristan snorted.  “Nice uniform.  Real attractive.”

            “You know what, you can just scooch your little bottom up those stairs and get out of my face.”  she said.  Tristan shrugged and offered her his Gatorade, which she snatched and took a sip.

            “Thanks.  I gotta go.”  she said, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.  She stepped around him and walked towards the gym.  Tristan fox whistled.

            “Go jump in a lake, Tristan!  Why do you always have to be so annoying?”  she said, walking backwards.

            “Cry me a river.”  he said.

            “DIE IN A HOLE!”

            The gym doors closed, and Tristan laughed to himself.  He could never think of anything else to say after that one.

            Everything seemed okay now.  Maybe Josee would be staying after all.

 

~*~

 

            After school, Nicolette caught Tristan in the cafeteria.

            “Hey.”  she said, hands grasping the straps of her backpack, which was no doubt full of books.  The classes this year were pretty brutal.

            “Hey.”  said Tristan, eating a granola bar.

            “It’s gonna suck when Josee leaves, huh?”  she remarked.  Tristan almost choked.  He swallowed and took a swig of what remained of his Gatorade.

            “What?”

            “She didn’t tell you?  Oops…sorry, Tristan.”  she said, looking mortified.

            “She’s leaving?  When?”  he continued, trying not to sound too worried.

            “The day after the Christmas program.”

            “She’s going home?  Is she coming back after the break?”  He dreaded the answer.  He knew what the answer was, but he still didn’t want to hear it.

            “No; she’s not coming back.”

 

~*~

 

            Tristan lay on his bed that evening, tossing darts into his beat-up ceiling.  An unfinished history report due the next day and two overdue algebra lessons were waiting for him in his backpack, but he hadn’t the slightest care in the world to work on them.  He stared at the three darts above him.  If one of them moved an inch down, all together the three darts would make a perfect triangle.

            He shook his head and wondered why he would think of something so ridiculous at a time like this.

            His cell phone rang, Green Day’s 21 Guns.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey; it’s Josee.  Did you do the math lesson yet?  I can’t figure out number ten, and it’s really driving me insane.  I hate these kinds of problems.”

            Tristan took a breath but didn’t answer, his eyebrows lowered.

            “Tristan, you there?  Is something wrong?”

            He tried to stop them, but the tears started in his eyes.  He was glad that she couldn’t see him.  “Yeah.  Something’s wrong.  You’re leaving next week, and you decided not to tell one of your best friends.”

            A pause.

            “Tristan, I was going to tell you�"“

            “When?  At the Christmas program?  That’s really nice of you.”

            “Hey, why are you getting mad at me for?  You know, you’re being really selfish�"“

            “Selfish?  I’m selfish because I’m upset that you didn’t tell me that you’re leaving, never coming back?”  he said, feeling angry now.

            “You don’t understand.”  said Josee, her voice quieter.  Tristan shook his head and hung up.  In his frustration, he threw his phone at the wall.  It hit the ground with a loud bang.  Tristan was sure that it was busted.

            He lay on his stomach, his face buried in his pillow.

            “Tristan!  Dad’s home!  Time for dinner!”  called his mom from downstairs.

            “I’m not hungry!”  he yelled, hoping his mom wouldn’t ask why.  She didn’t.

            An agonizing moment of silence passed.

            The buzz of his cell phone broke through the silence.

            For a while he ignored the urge to read the text.  Finally he got up and picked up his phone.  A crack ran diagonally across its screen.

            Of course, the text was from Josee.

            I’m sorry, Tristan.

            He didn’t text back.

 

~*~

 

            Tristan didn’t go to school the next day.  Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and it frustrated him even more that he thought that.  All this over a girl?

            He just lay there, staring at the darts that were still stuck in his ceiling.  He glanced at the clock.  8:00 am.  Everyone at school was saying morning prayers.  He wondered if Josee was there.  She probably was.  Why did he care?

            Because he did.

            He got up and grabbed a pencil and a sketchbook off of his desk.  He hadn’t drawn anything in a while.

He started sketching her.  Joseé.  Not Josie, not Jose, just Joseé.  Simple, beautiful Joseé.  He colored her green eyes and her straight, dark hair.  His favorite part of her, oddly enough, was her eyelashes.  Long and dark, perfectly framing her round eyes.  He drew her walking along the Oregon coastline, barefoot, her jeans rolled up to her knees.  He stared at the drawing for while.

He felt lost then.  He didn’t know what to do anymore.  His tears dotted the paper with Josee’s footprints in the sand.

 

~*~

 

            He went to the chapel to pray the rosary.  Nobody else was there, not even one of the priests or nuns.  It was dark, only a pair of lights and the Advent candles illuminated the building.  Tristan stared at the crucifix.  He realized that this whole ordeal was his cross, but was he strong enough to hold it up�"forever?

            He was being stupid.  Hopelessly stupid.  Surely he would see her again, someday.

            But when?

            He heard the doors behind him open, and somebody walked in.  The steps were slow and quiet.  When he glanced sideways, he saw Josee pass by and enter a pew up front.  She was wearing a khaki skirt, brown boots, and a white hoodie with a fuzzy collar.

            Tristan finished his rosary and stared and stared at Josee’s back.  He wished with every fiber of his being that she wouldn’t go. 

But it was already too late; she was leaving in a week.

Josee got up, genuflected, and turned for the door, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Tristan.  Their eyes locked for a moment, until she walked away and left the church.

Tristan knelt there for a few seconds, in the dark, silent church.

He rose quickly to catch up with Josee.

“Josee!  Wait!”  he said, descending the steps.  She stopped, her boots skidding on the semi-wet pavement.  He stopped about five feet away from her.  They just stood like that.  A noisy car drove by.

She turned to him, her face expressionless.  Tristan stared at her as if she was something that he couldn’t understand.  He dropped his eyes and exhaled deeply; his breath fogging the winter air.

“You’re really going to leave.”  he said, his voice low.  It was both a question and a statement.

“Yes.  I’m really going to leave.”

Tristan couldn’t say anything else.  He knew that if he did, he was going to lose it.

“Look, it’s late, and I’m cold.  I gotta go home.”

Tristan glanced around.  “How did you get here?”

“I walked.”

He shook his head.  “I’ll drive you home.”

 

~*~

 

Neither of them said a word as Tristan drove Josee to her house, which was only a few blocks away.  Josee sat very still in the passenger’s seat, her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Well, here we are.”  said Tristan quietly, as he drove up the driveway.  Josee made a sound in agreement and unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Thanks.  See ya�"“  she said, opening the car door, but Tristan grabbed her wrist.

“Wait.  Look, I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.”  he said quickly.

Josee shrugged it off.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“You wanna go…do something on Saturday?”

She stared at him then, and got back in her seat.  She closed the car door to shut out the cold.  “Tristan…I’m going back home next week…”

“I know.”  he said, staring at the windshield.  “Even more of a reason for us to hang out.”  He grinned sideways at her.

She thought for a moment, and then nodded.  “Sure.  I’d love too.  Bye.”  She motioned to get out again.

“And Josee?”

She glanced back at him.  “Yeah?”

“You like Mexican food?”

She drew her face closer to his.  “No.  I absolutely hate it.  And I hate Italian and Chinese too.”  she drawled, with her ever flowing stream of sarcasm.

Tristan shook his head and tossed a stick of gum at her, winking.

“Jerk.”  she said jokingly, slamming the car door behind her.  When she looked back one last time, Tristan pretended to pet the dashboard of his car as if she had hurt its feelings.

 

~*~

 

            The school week went by very fast, and Saturday rolled along faster than Tristan expected.  He and Josee went out for dinner at a local Mexican restaurant.  They had planned to go to the movies afterward, but there were no good movies out in the rerun theater (neither of them felt like watching The Twilight Saga: Eclipse), so they went to Tristan’s house and watched a few old black and white movies instead.  Only Margaret was home at the time; Tristan’s parents were out having their weekly date night.

            Tristan and Josee sat on the sofa, Tristan’s arm draped lazily over Josee’s shoulders.  They were laughing hysterically at a slapstick joke in the movie.

            Tristan cleared his throat.  “You know what Father Hunter would say…wait, how did it go?  The thing about smoking bananas…”

            Josee laughed even harder.

            They had finished watching three movies, three bags of popcorn, and a 2-liter Dr. Pepper (and there might have been a kiss or two snuck in-between) when Margaret came through the living room.

            “Hey, Josee.”  she said, winking.  She made a scene of disheveling Tristan’s hair when she passed behind him. 

            Tristan realized then that he was happier than he could ever remember being before.

            He also realized that it would be harder now than ever to let her go.

 

~*~

 

            A few days passed and the Christmas program rolled around.  Same old, same old, as Mrs. Parsnips liked to stick to tradition.  Tristan and Josee got a kick out of playing Joseph and Mary, while Gabriel looked ridiculous in the white gown, wings, and halo of the angel that shared the same name.  He didn’t seem to mind, though, and recited the lines with Shakespearean finesse.

            Of course, the news of Tristan and Josee being together traveled through the small school quickly.  Ava and Nicolette had officially dubbed the two “the cutest couple ever”.

            The day after the program, Tristan drove Josee to the airport to send her off.

            To his surprise, he didn’t cry, and neither did Josee.  They just smiled at one another, no words needed.

            Tristan dug into his backpack and pulled out a sheet of thick drawing paper, and gave it to Josee.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the colored sketch of herself and Tristan, walking along the Oregon coast, two trails of footprints going off into the distance.  She bit her lip and looked up at him.

            One more kiss, and she was on her way.

 

~*~

 

            The next day, Tristan decided to send her a text.

            Hey u.  Flight good?

            A couple minutes later:  Yup no problems

            He didn’t know what he should say next.  You tired?  How’s your family?  I miss you?

            He glanced out the window, and saw a raven weaving its way through the clouds.

            Ur comin back for graduation, right?

            No.  Im gunna stay home and bake lasagna.

            Tristan laughed aloud.

 

 

 

THE END

 

Author's Note

Sometimes you meet people who you know you will never forget. Those people who leave footprints in your sand that the tide will never wash away. Those who have that special place in your heart that cannot be replaced by anyone else.

For Tristan, that person was Joseé.

(Note: There are a lot of inside jokes in this story, but I hope they're not too noticeable. :-)