David didn’t come to pick me up for our date that night, though I wasn’t sure if I had really expected him to. What I did expect was an angry phone call or email. I expected an angry anything, really. Anything would have been better than the silence I experienced that Friday night. My mother was out, as usual, and I was beginning to wonder if she was just going to stay at some other house now that we’d had our little encounter. The house was completely empty and silent, just like my life. I had tried to call David several times, but he never picked up. I left at least four messages telling him I was sorry and that if he’d just let me talk to him I could explain everything, but it seemed like no matter what I did, he didn’t feel compelled to call me back.
Saturday passed much in the same way. I saw my mother briefly in the kitchen as she was on her way out the door. She gave me a little nod of her head by way of a greeting but said nothing. I had finished my homework for the entire weekend the night before, which left me with absolutely nothing to do. I tried to paint, but found that I couldn’t think of a single thing that would make me feel better.
After hours of sitting around staring at my paints, I picked up the phone and called Rachel.
“Hello?” said a groggy voice. It was almost one in the afternoon, so the fact that Rachel was still sleeping was quite a feat.
“Hey, it’s Amelia,” I said dully. “I was just wondering if Alex has broken up with you yet.” Under any other circumstances that sentence would have sounded incredibly rude and out of place, but as it stood, it was really the only reason I could be calling Rachel.
“Not yet. He hasn’t called me all weekend though, so I’m assuming that’s a good sign. Maybe he’s thinking it over and trying to find a way to let me down easy.” She laughed at this, though I didn’t see what was so amusing about it. “Anyways, if he doesn’t call me on Sunday, I’ll just ditch school Monday to give you another chance at getting him to do it. After that, I’m rescinding my offer.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” I said unenthusiastically.
“I figured you would,” she said, and then the line went dead. I was beginning to notice that none of my clients seemed to posses the ability to say “good-bye” to end their phone conversations. They all just kind of hung up. Maybe it was because in their eyes I was more like the hired help-more like a vending machine than a human being. I ran my fingers through my blonde, messy hair, fully aware that I hadn’t brushed it that morning, and searched through the contact list on my phone. I now had six numbers saved rather than just five, though it didn’t make much of a difference, since that sixth number wouldn’t answer my calls.
I hit send when the scroll illuminated David’s name and got his voicemail once again.
“Hey, David, it’s Amelia. I know you’re probably sick of all the messages I’ve left you, but I just want to talk. You can’t really want to throw everything away without at least talking first, can you?” I paused for a second, though I knew the voicemail certainly wasn’t going to answer me. “Anyway, I’m really sorry, and if you just let me explain, we might be able to work this out.”
I paused again, feeling the urge to say something I knew was crazy after having only known this boy for such a short amount of time. Still, there it was, completely overpowering me and making me unable to think about anything other than David. It was that one emotion I thought didn’t exist in the world. The one that I knew would probably scare him away if I uttered it when our relationship was in danger of falling apart. In the end, though, my feelings won out and I said the thing I knew I should just keep to myself. And that’s how I ended my voicemail to him.
“I love you.”
Saturday night came and went with absolutely no response from David, and I wallowed in my own self-pity. I knew I was being pathetic and love struck, but it felt like misery was just that much more intense after everything had been so perfect. I felt completely at a loss now that my other half was missing. I wouldn’t have felt this if I hadn’t known how wonderful it felt to be with someone you’re so completely in tune with in the first place. The whole thing left me feeling empty, and I fell asleep that night crying.
Sunday morning passed without my notice. I didn’t wake until two in the afternoon. Suddenly I felt like Rachel had the right idea, sleeping the day away. Nothing seemed so horrible if you just shut out the world for a while. I walked through the house to see if my mom was home, but found no one. I didn’t even find a note saying she was out with a client. I guess she knew I’d just assume she was out with someone now, though “client” wasn’t really the term I’d use.
I ate an apple and checked my phone for any new messages or missed calls but was met with nothing. I tried to ignore the sharp pain this left right above my stomach and decided to be semi-productive and take a long hot shower. I washed my hair thoroughly and scrubbed my skin until it felt raw, trying to wash away the creeping feeling that I had ruined something truly amazing. As I continued to endure the rest of this long day by myself, I spent time on all of the little extras. I needed anything to keep my mind occupied.
By the time I was done with my routine, I had perfectly curled hair, expertly applied makeup, and absolutely nowhere to go. I had, luckily, eaten up some time in the day, and I noticed that the sun was beginning to make its way toward the distant mountain range. I had gotten Rachel to give me Alex’s number with the compromise that I’d go out on a date with him that Monday night, even though that was the furthest thing from what I wanted to be doing.
With nothing left for me to waste my time on, I went into the living room to watch some TV. There had to be something on that could distract me from my current state. As I went to sit on the couch, my foot hit something hard on the floor, causing me to yelp with pain. I looked down angrily to locate the source of my annoyance, only to see the corner of David’s laptop sticking out from under the couch. He must have left it when he made me dinner, I thought excitedly. At least holding his laptop ransom could give me some excuse to see him again, even if it only meant seeing him for a second to give him the computer. At this point I was desperate. Any contact would make me feel better.
I quickly picked up my phone and texted David, excited that he still had some obligation to see me so that I could explain everything.
“You left your laptop at my house,” I texted, sending the message the second I had hit the last letter. Sitting back on the couch with his computer on my lap I smiled triumphantly. At least things were looking up a little. The green light on David’s computer blinked at me, indicating that even though the screen was closed, the computer was still on.
“That can’t be good,” I thought aloud, thinking I should probably turn the thing off before giving it back to him. When I opened the screen the same word processor popped up that he’d been typing on after dinner. I glanced at it for a moment, not because I actually intended to read it, but simply because that’s where my eyes had fallen. When I read the name “Amelia” on the screen I froze. What could David possibly be writing about me? Was this some sort of digital journal he was keeping?
Now, I don’t really consider myself a nosey person. I can keep a secret and I respect people’s privacy. But when I saw my name on the computer screen of the boy who I wanted back so badly, I couldn’t resist reading on. I had to find out if there was some hint in here as to how I could win him back.
Scrolling to the top of the document I read the title: “The Lonely Girl Syndrome.” I stopped reading for a moment. It didn’t really sound like a journal entry. And it wasn’t exactly formatted to be something turned in to school. At this point I had two different options and I knew how I picked would change things in a big way. I could read on and see exactly what David really thought of me, or I could just close the computer, return it to him, and be grateful that he had taught me so much while we both still trusted each other.
I chose the first option.
Big surprise.
I didn’t remember much from what I soon learned was a newspaper article. But some of the phrases stuck in my mind like they’d been burned there. “… came from a loveless home to suck the love out of the relationships around her.” “… withdraws herself from the norms of growing up due to a false sense of superiority.” “… relies on her looks because nothing resides below the surface.”
Each paragraph was worse than the one before it, and I couldn’t believe that the person I was reading about was supposed to be me. The details in the article had to come from his year of watching me as he mentioned jobs from ages ago, even jobs I had taken when I went to different schools. Had he followed me to those schools and I just didn’t notice? Could he even do that if his parents didn’t move like my mom and I did so often?
I was vaguely aware of my phone buzzing next to me but I didn’t bother to look down or pick it up. I just stared straight ahead at the screen, too shocked to cry.
I didn’t end up reading the whole article. Half was all I could really manage to stomach for the time being. When I had had enough I gently closed the laptop, not bothering to turn it off.
“Okay,” I said to the empty room. “This is okay,” I said, still more quietly. I didn’t seem to be able to really say anything that mattered. I could only keep telling myself that everything was okay. This was, of course, pretty far from the truth, but if I kept lying to myself I was hoping I’d eventually start to believe the lie. “Maybe he wasn’t adding to the article all this time. Maybe he was… deleting it… or at least revising it.”
One thing I did know was that he had definitely been doing something to the article since we’d been dating. I just didn’t know what.
My phone buzzed next to my leg once more and I finally mustered the sanity to reach down and pick it up. I didn’t quite know what to do when I read the words “One Missed Call From David” illuminated across the little screen. Closing that screen my phone revealed to me that I also had a text message from David. I wasn’t quite sure if I actually wanted to read it. It would be horrible to read him trying to make up some excuse as to why he’d written the article. Although it would be worse if he didn’t… if he just asked for his computer back so that he could finally turn in his big story.
Opening up his message didn’t really reveal much to me. All he had written was “Is the laptop still on?” I couldn’t tell if he was worried, resigned, or just relieved that he wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in me anymore. Sitting there with my phone in my hand I felt so small. The hurt that was bubbling up inside of me felt like more than I could bear, but then the idea that this hurt was caused by a high school relationship made me feel like a fool. I had become exactly like the people I had always made fun of. Maybe David was right. Maybe I did withdraw myself from growing up because I had a false sense of superiority. I had always thought of myself as separate from all of the other students. Like I was part of their world but was above sharing their experiences.
I shook my head, trying to clear it of all of the confusion David’s article had brought. Taking a deep breath I decided the only thing I could do would be to actually talk to David. Best case, he didn’t mean a word of what he was writing. He was just kidding… or trying to prove a point. Worst case, we were through. He hated me and was just using me for his stupid newspaper article.
I decided not to consider the second option anymore or I’d just hang up the phone right as he picked up. As the phone rang, I tried to keep myself from shaking. There had to be some logical explanation to all of this. There was no way David didn’t feel as connected to me as I did to him.
On the third ring, I heard David pick up.
“Hey,” came his familiar voice on the other end of the phone. He sounded just as bad as I felt, I noted with some hope. Perhaps he didn’t want things to be over between us either. I kept my fingers crossed as I spoke in a shaky voice.
“Do you think we can talk?” I asked, my heart feeling like it might just stop altogether.
“Not over the phone,” he said after a sizeable pause. “Can you meet me at the park off Hendrix?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in five minutes,” I said, probably a bit too anxiously.
“All right… bye.” I was glad that at least David still remembered how to end a conversation, though I hoped that was the only context in which I’d ever hear him utter the word “good-bye.” Maybe the fact that he felt bad meant that the article wasn’t real. Maybe I’d imagined the whole thing.
Or maybe I was just delusional and trying to make myself feel better.
I sped down the street to the park much faster than I should have, happy that I had just taken so much time to make myself look presentable. I pulled into the mostly empty parking lot and instantly spotted David’s old blue car. I pulled up beside it, but he wasn’t inside. My heart sank for a moment, before I realized that he was probably in the park somewhere. I left the laptop on the passenger side seat, hoping that even if he just wanted to take his computer and go, I could lock the door until we resolved this whole thing. I walked through the wet grass until I found him sitting on a swing in the abandoned playground.
He looked up when I approached but said nothing, just like he’d done on Friday. At least today he didn’t look like he wanted to kill anyone. Instead, he just looked sad and resigned-exactly how I felt.
“You look nice,” he said after I sat on the swing beside his.
“Thanks,” I answered. I looked over at him and noted that his eyes were red, though I couldn’t be sure if it was from lack of sleep or crying. I found myself hoping that either one of these causes was not due to the demise of our relationship.
“So you said you wanted to talk?” he asked carefully, and immediately we had gotten to the hard part. I nodded, not sure exactly where to start or how I could justify my actions to him. Now that I had read the article I almost felt like my little fall off the wagon would be the easy part of the conversation. I decided I’d wait until he brought that situation up. Although from the way he kept looking at me like I was a bomb about to go off, he wasn’t quite sure if I had read the article or not. I sighed heavily, figuring I’d kick off this little heart-to-heart with my lies. We could always move to his later.
“I know I promised you I was going to stop all of this but… this was something I just had to do.” I looked at him, hoping that I could read his reaction and go from there, but his face was completely blank. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. Trust is really important to me and it was a stupid mistake… I just… I didn’t know what else to do and at the time it seemed like the only option.” I was beginning to ramble desperately. I felt like if I stopped talking for a minute, he would drop the axe on our relationship. Now that I’d confessed to myself that I loved him, it seemed like being without him would be like being without air. The short period of time we’d spent apart had been complete torture. Although for all I knew, the whole time we’d been together had just been a lie to try to get a story out of me. Why couldn’t we have a normal relationship?
He looked up at me now, and I was angry with myself for crying in front of him. It was a low trick women used, but I couldn’t help myself. The tears wouldn’t stop coming now that they’d started. David looked slightly startled that I was crying and I saw a flash of pain flutter across his face. It was a look that made me unhappy but gave me hope at the same time.
“Please don’t leave me,” I said desperately, and I was fully aware that I’d turned into exactly what I’d wanted to avoid all along. I had become a slave to my emotions, but somehow it wasn’t as terrible as I had always expected it to be. “Even being without you for these past two days has been hell.” I was babbling again, but I couldn’t seem to keep my thoughts in my head. They all wanted to pour out of my mouth at the same time. I just wished he would actually say something. We sat in silence for a few minutes the only sounds audible were those of the crickets and my occasional sniffing as my tears wreaked havoc on the makeup I’d been so proud of moments earlier.
“Did you mean what you said on the phone?” he asked finally, keeping his tone even and looking me squarely in the eyes. I looked at him questioningly. “You love me?” he asked.
I exhaled deeply, the tears making my breath shaky, and nodded my head. I didn’t even care if he’d been lying to me. Even if he didn’t feel the same way about me, I still felt that way for him and I wouldn’t deny it any longer. We sat there in silence for a moment, just staring at each other.
David seemed to be experiencing some internal struggle, and I was worried about what the conclusion of that struggle would be. “Well, I love you too,” he said finally.
I held my breath for a moment. Hoping he would be the one to bring up the article. He said he loved me but would that change if he knew I’d read his secret? Was he only saying it to keep the game up or was he like me: in love but caught in a situation that looked worse than it actually was?
“I just don’t understand why you felt you had to keep it a secret from me,” he began, though I wasn’t quite sure if he was talking about the job I’d taken, or the fact that I knew what he was up to. “I obviously can’t stop you from doing whatever you want to do, but a little trust would have been nice, Amelia. I thought we had become an important part of each other’s lives. The more complete part. I don’t understand why you have this need to keep doing what you did before.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d get it,” I said weakly, now positive he’d been talking about my job… not his. “I didn’t want to run the risk of having you tell me I couldn’t do it.” I knew it was a poor explanation as to why I had behaved the way I had, but it was all I could give him.
“That’s what trust is all about. You have to trust that I’ll be reasonable, and I have to trust that you know what’s best for you. I am trying.” He stood now and for a moment I thought he was going to walk away again. Instead he just paced back and forth, a look of confusion clouding his face.
“I had no intention of leaving you. I just had to take some time to think things over. Like it or not, you’re stuck with me now,” he said with a small smile. The sadness I had seen in his eyes when I walked up was now gone, and I actually dared to let myself hope that none of this was an act. Maybe the whole thing really did just seem worse than it actually was and there was a simple explanation for it.
“Why, if you don’t mind my asking, do you feel that you absolutely need to do this job?” It was quite a reasonable question, I thought, and it struck me as odd that I hadn’t mentioned the payment I’d be receiving yet.
“The girl offered me a thousand dollars,” I said simply. The look on David’s face was so stunned that I wished I had a camera with me to capture the moment forever.
“Are you serious?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s Rachel McKlintock,” I explained, knowing that name would clear everything up. David was silent for a moment, considering the information I’d just given him. A small, wicked grin crept onto his face and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking.
“I’m going to sell out… just a little,” he began.
“You mean you might actually approve of my heathen business now?” I said in mock shock.
“Here’s the thing,” he said as he sat down on the swing next to me again. “I figure that people like Rachel McKlintock have everything handed to them in life. No matter what difference we try to make, she’ll always be able to buy her way out of things, so we’re really not doing her a disservice by doing this job.”
“We?” I asked inquiringly. David never liked to talk about my business and suddenly he was referring to it as a “we”?
“Or just you… either way, she’s not going to stop being a snob just because we-I mean you-refuse to help her, so you might as well take advantage of it and make some money while you do it.” I couldn’t believe all of this was actually coming from David, but I definitely wasn’t complaining. There was a nagging feeling in my brain, telling me that he might just be fueling his story, but I tried desperately to ignore it.
“So are you saying there’s a loophole to the whole no-breaking-people-up-anymore-ever rule?” I asked skeptically.
“I’m saying that in cases such as these, where the person is really hopeless, you’re only doing a disservice to yourself by not accepting the business offer.” His wicked grin was still in place, and I knew he just loved the idea of taking money from someone who delighted in throwing it away so freely. “In fact,” he went on, “if you want, I’ll help you out… not that you need it, but it seemed to work out nicely last time.”
“What last time are you referring to?” I asked, not quite on the same page as David.
“With Blane. You do whatever it is that you do, and I sweep in as the long-lost boyfriend so that you don’t have to worry about getting rid of the boy afterward. It’s perfect!” His enthusiasm made me smile, and I couldn’t deny that it sounded like a pretty good idea.
“And you’d really be willing to help me out?” I asked doubtfully.
“Like I said, there’s nothing morally wrong with it if the person we’re doing it for is already socially crippled for life. We’re not going to cure the world of rich spoiled kids by refusing them service.”
I laughed at this justification but still couldn’t believe that he had changed his mind so suddenly. “Well, if we’re doing this together, are you free to sweep in on Tuesday? I’ll try my best to end it on Monday at dinner, but if he tries to stick around after he and Rachel are through you’ll have to work your magic.”
“Or we can just assume I’ll be working my magic on Tuesday. After all, you want to really show this guy that you aren’t available after you’ve finished the job, that way you don’t run the risk of bumping into him later,” David said, obviously having thought this through in the short time he had changed his mind about my business.
“Deal,” I said simply.
We spent the rest of the night talking about how we could hone our plan to perfection and at least get Alex and Rachel broken up by Monday night. I explained the basics of what I did to David and made sure he had a clear understanding of exactly how this would all work out. By the time we parted in the parking lot that night, I had almost forgotten about the unflattering biography David had written about me. It wasn’t until he walked me to my car and noticed the laptop on the front seat that our happy reunion turned somber once more.
“Oh,” he said simply, seeing the laptop waiting for him to take it back and continue his exposé. “Where was it?” he asked, nodding toward the computer. He looked almost as if he was afraid to touch it, like it would burn him if he tried to take it back.
“Under the couch. You left it there after you made me dinner.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, not wanting to ruin our newly stabilized relationship. Although if he really was just after a story, the stability of our relationship was pretty much gone.
David sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. I loved it when he did that.
“All right, well… I don’t know if you read what I was writing or not… but it doesn’t matter… because I should just come clean either way.”
“I read it,” I said in a voice barely above a whisper. I was focused on him so intently that I had been holding my breath. The next few words that came out of his mouth were going to define what our relationship would become.
“All of it?” he asked, his brow furrowed as if he were confused. I looked down for a moment, I was a little ashamed that I had read his article without asking… but he should probably be the one who was more embarrassed in this situation, considering what he had written.
“About half… After hearing what you had to say about me… Let’s just say I didn’t really need to read the whole thing.” I looked back up to him and the expression he wore surprised me. He didn’t look angry or relieved. Instead he just looked sad. I couldn’t quite understand where his sadness came in to play but as he came over to me and hugged me, I felt tears welling up in my already red, puffy eyes. This was it. He was leaving me.
“I’m so sorry,” he said into my neck. I exhaled deeply. I knew this moment was coming eventually, but that didn’t mean I was any more ready for it. “This must have been so hard for you this whole time tonight,” he said finally. I nodded silently, still hugging him tightly. I didn’t care that he was breaking up with me. I just wanted to hold onto him a little longer.
“It’s been hard. I was just hoping somewhere in the back of my mind that you would tell me it was a joke… or something,” I said thickly, my voice wobbly from the tears streaming down my cheeks. “I didn’t even want to bring it up because then all the progress we made tonight would be worthless.” David pulled me away from him slowly. I dropped my eyes to the ground, not wanting to meet his gaze as he said the final word in our relationship.
“Amelia?” he asked, tilting my head up so that I would meet his eyes. “How are you so frustrating?”
“Seriously?” I asked, a slight anger mixing with my sadness. “You don’t think breaking up with me is enough? Now you have to insult me while you do it?” David simply shook his head, frustration lining his beautiful face.
“Amelia, you aren’t understanding me. I’m not breaking up with you… I mean… I’m sure you might want to break up with me after reading the horrible things I wrote about you… but I’m not going to be the one to leave tonight.” I looked at him quizzically, not quite following what he was trying to tell me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiping the tears away from my face. Now that they were drying, the salt was beginning to sting my cheeks.
“You said you only read half of the article? Judging by your very emotional reaction, you only read the bad things I wrote, back when I was observing you… before I actually got to know you.” He looked down guiltily. “Not that it excuses the things I said. I was really awful… I went on and on about how you judge people based on their appearance when I completely judged you before ever speaking to you.” As he spoke I started to feel that same creeping hope come back to me. Maybe things really weren’t as bad as they seemed.
“So the second half is nice?” I asked hopefully.
“Well, that’s the thing. I was trying to write a story about perception. You know? Like how I felt about you and what you did before meeting you and if that idea changed after finally meeting you. I thought it would make an interesting article to have a before and after point of view… just to see if my perception of you changed at all.”
“And did it?”
David smiled at me, pulling me close to him once more.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so wrong about a person before,” he said, kissing the top of my head lightly. “And the thing is, I don’t even want to turn the article in anymore. I kind of want to keep it just to remind me how wrong I can be sometimes… but for some odd reason, I’m really not that intent on destroying you anymore.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” I said with a laugh. “Because it’d be nice to not worry about my boyfriend being a soul-crushing, life-ruining leech.”
“I just said I wouldn’t turn the story in… not that I was changing who I really am,” he said sarcastically. I smiled up at him, letting myself feel relaxed for the first time in a few days.
“So are we still on for Tuesday then?” I asked with a grin.
“Let’s bring this guy down.”