Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven draft :)

 

“Lisa still won't quit asking so many damn questions.” I was annoyed by this.

I was at Trevor's and we were playing checkers for a second time in a row. He was winning mercilessly. So much for letting me win.

“What is she wanting to know anyway?” He was studying his next move, his chin in his hand and his forehead wrinkled up, pushing out his eyebrows.

“I think she tries to make a soap opera out of everything. God help me, she's my best friend though.” I laughed. “She thinks there's something more going on with us than what we've told her. She just won't be convinced.”

“Oh well. Doesn't matter anyway.”

“True.” I said in agreement. She was just being herself.

I guess maybe she would have a reason to think of things on a more romantic level. Trevor and I had been spending every day together for two weeks now. We didn't do anything significant. We did simple things: playing board games, going for walks, driving around aimlessly, swinging at the park and star gazing in random places.

“You hold too much in.” Trevor was not about to go there.

“I'm fine, thank you very much.”

He wrinkled his eyebrows in disbelief. “Your full of it.”

“People don't have to always spill their guts. Sometimes maybe it's better off if you leave it alone.” I said, trying to sway him away from the topic I knew was coming.

“Yeah, but Vi, this is something you do need to talk about. We've only talked about briefly. You don't talk to your mom, Adrian, or Lisa. You don't talk to anyone about anything really. I know it's your personal choice, but if you could see you the way I do, you'd be telling yourself exactly what I'm saying now.”

“What do you see exactly? I see someone who will be okay if people would leave her alone.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that's not what I see at all. You are lying to yourself. Now, starting with your dad, spill.”

“Ha!” was all I could get out. Everything he was saying was true. I knew I could talk to him, but everything was safer if I kept it hidden down deep.

“Please.” Trevor just looked at me, solemnly.

“What am I supposed to say?”

“I don't know. That's all up to you.”

“If it's all up to me, why are you making me talk about it?”

“I'm not making you, I'm using the power of persuasion.” he winked at me and smiled his wonderful smile.

I sighed. “He was my buddy and my everything. I could run to him when Mom was being ridiculous or when Adrian picked on me. He rescued me from everything. I don't get how he could have just left me here, all alone, to fend for myself like that.” I paused, not wanting to think about it any further. “I've already told you about it. Why are we doing this again?”

“Because I feel like there is something you're not telling me.”

“And?” I shook my head at him. So what? Get over it.

“You're still grieving. Part of getting through that is opening up about it.”

“I'm mad.  Beyond mad.  He was too damn selfish.  He got to leave this screwed up world and left me behind to suffer.  Alone.  Completely alone.  So yeah, wouldn't you be mad?  Wouldn't you still be bitter and helpless?  He left me to fend for myself against my selfish mother and a*****e brother.  They don't give a flying rat's a*s about anyone but themselves. Sure, maybe once upon a time, they weren't that way, but not to my memory. Lucille has always been wrapped up in her art. My father, I thought he was different, but I guess not. Is it that hard to find one person in this world that might think of someone before themselves?” I paused again, waiting to see if he would answer. Nothing. “I didn't think so. My Aunt Paula didn't candy coat anything. She didn't use the term 'passed away'. She was blunt and more detailed than I'd like to remember. I was only seven years old! I remember this day as clear as I remember yesterday.”

I know I was being a little more emotional than I'd have liked, but he was right, in some way, this felt good. To finally be heard.

“I answered the phone. I could tell she had been crying a little. Whether or not they were legitimate, real tears, I don't know. There was no hello back. She didn't ask for my mother. As soon I picked up the phone, she spit it out.”

‘Johnny’s dead.  He killed himself, Violette.  I just found him in the bathroom.  The EMS are on their way.’

“I wasn’t able to say anything back to her.  I just hung up the phone, went to my room, and cried.  Aunt Paula called back and that time my mom answered.  Of course, she came up to get me but I wouldn’t go.  I hardly came out of my room all that week after that.”

 

I was fighting back tears of my own as I was remembering that obscure morning.  Then I came back to reality, realizing that I wasn’t back in that day, but I was here, with Trevor.  I didn’t want to go on, but I had to.

“The funeral.”  I gulped a little, as I was saying this.  “The funeral would’ve have been pleasant.  For a funeral I guess.  There were loads of flowers and people.  I know there were a lot of people trying to be nice.  It didn’t do any good though.  Nothing was going to fix this big mess he had just made.”

At this point, there was no more fighting to be done.  When they came again, I let them.  I didn’t push them away and I didn’t hold back, just like I had that first night I told Trevor about him. 

“It’s still not fair!  She didn’t have to tell me he hung himself!  I didn’t want to know.  I was only seven!  I don’t get who could be that cold.”

Aunt Paula, to me, was the biggest b***h in the entire world.  Who would tell their seven-year-old niece that her father hung himself in the bathroom?  Only a true b***h.

“I need a cigarette.  Pronto.” I said.  My hands were shaking and my nerves were destroyed.  At the moment I felt like I could chain smoke at least two packs.

“Here.” Trevor held one out to me, then followed by lighting it.

I stretched out on his futon, tucking one arm behind my head, and letting the other rest on my stomach.  I pulled my hand up randomly to take a drag off of my cigarette.  My eyes burned from crying so much and my throat felt a little rough. 

So many unexpected things had happened since I had met Trevor.  I was okay with that.  I was going to be okay.  I felt a sliver or relief for a moment and closed my eyes.  I took another slow, intoxicating drag.  He was right, I felt better, just not in the way I had expected.  This had to be why I was wrapped around him.  When you looked at all of the things I had thought of before when it came to him, and you put them together, it boiled down to one thing.  Trevor made everything feel better.  I don’t know in what way.  It could have been in several ways or just a few.  Regardless, he made something in me feel better. 

 

“What are we?” This was all I had thought about.  All this time, I’ve wondered the true status of what we were.  I knew, of course.  I just wanted to know how he felt about the whole thing between us.

“What do you mean?”  How did I know that would be his reply?  He looked so serious to boot.

“I mean, our… I mean, what… S**t.  How do I put this without embarrassing myself?”  This was proving difficult.  I took a long deep breath.  “What I mean is, where is this going.  This relationship, whatever it is, whatever you want to call it.” 

“I’ve never really thought about it.  It is what it is.  What do you want it to be?”  He had to be joking.  He couldn’t reverse my question!  That was against the rules.

“I don’t have specifications.  I was only hoping to put a name on it.  It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

“I see.”

“What?”  What in the hell did he mean?

“It’s unique.  In it’s own way.  I’m not a dummy.  I know there’s something there that’s more than friendship, but I also know that we are still just new friends.  It’s difficult.  I know that.  We just have to decide what’s better; remaining good friends, or going on a feeling that may not be promising in the end?  And then, who is to say either will be anything promising?  We make these kind of decisions everyday.  Everything effects the future.  It’s just the size of impact that makes the difference.  So, which one will have the bigger impact, for better or worse?”

Trevor had hit the nail, square on the head.  What kind of decision were we going to end up making?  Or were going to let everything run on nothing but a whim like we had been doing since the first time we met? 

Even that was a decision.  What was it with all the decisions?  What was it with everything?

It was up to him.  Whatever he wanted out of this, he could have it.  I still was hoping for something myself, but I didn’t want to say it. 

So, I didn’t.

Reviews

[Rose Kavanagh]

My God, I love this story! Every chapter leaves me desperate to find out what happens next! Really great job so far.

Oh, and I've been meaning to ask you: have you heard the song "Ordinary Day" by Vanessa Carlton? Because I think it pretty much sums up Trevor and Violette. If you haven't, I highly recommend that you do.

Until the next chapter!