Pictures of You (21 page)

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Authors: Juliette Caron

BOOK: Pictures of You
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For a moment I forgot how to breathe. Those words made everything a hundred times worse. Why was he doing this to me? Making me fall for him when he knew damn well he wasn’t going to be around much longer? “Adrien—I don’t know what to say.”

             
“Ask me to leave. Ask me to never see you again,” he said, his tone pleading, but his face full of conflict.

             
“I…I can’t.”

             
“You deserve so much more than this. So much more than me. And after all you’ve been through. I don’t want to hurt you, September. It’s the last thing I want to do.”

             
I bit my lip. He was right. Our spending all this time together wasn’t helping either of us. At least not in the long run. But I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave.

             
Suddenly I wanted to kiss him—like mad—but I refrained. I didn’t want to get hurt again. I didn’t want to fall hard for someone I wouldn’t get to keep. I’d suffered enough loss. I didn’t know what to do. There was no manual for this, no how-to guide for helpless girls who found themselves falling for devastatingly handsome suicidal guys.

             
So I said nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

21

 

 

             
The day after my birthday Adrien came over first thing in the morning and took me out for breakfast. We ordered freshly squeezed orange juice and eggs and cheese on multi-grain bagels and had a picnic on a blanket on the roof of my apartment building. As the early morning sun rose, it cast an orange glow on the world below, setting skyscrapers ablaze. Despite my sweater, the chilly morning air gave me goose bumps and made me shiver.

             
“Cold?” Adrien asked, scooting closer to me and wrapping his warm arm around my shoulders.

             
Words could not express the relief I felt seeing him again. I missed him. So much. More than a girl should ever miss a boy in such a short time. But I also knew I was being stupid. Stupid for starting something that was going nowhere. Stupid for putting my already broken heart on the line. Stupid for loving Adrien a little more every day. Stupid for still hoping I could change his mind and choose me over death.

             
“You have a little cheese on your chin,” Adrien said, gesturing to his own chin.

             
“Right here?” I brushed the center on my chin.

             
“No, right there,” he said using his thumb to rub it off. He left his fingers under my chin for a few seconds and studied my eyes, his face so close, I could smell the bagel on his breath. My lips burned and again, I ached for a kiss.

             
“What’s your favorite color?” Adrien asked, finally dropping his gaze, crumbling the bagel wrapper.

             
“Why do you ask?” I hadn’t been asked that since grade school.

             
“It says a lot about a person.”

             
I eyed him in his current clashing get-up. A tea green button-up shirt with hunter green pants. His favorite green sneakers. “Green. My favorite color’s green.”

 

***

             

              “How was your birthday?” Chris asked, pulling his hair back into a ponytail, eyeing me in my tight t-shirt as I climbed into my jumpsuit.

             
“Surprisingly wonderful. I didn’t think I’d survive the day without Abby. She always spent my birthday with me, glued to my side, literally morning till night. We were like conjoined twins.”

             
“It must be a big adjustment.”

             
“You played a major role in making the day magical. If it weren’t for you, Adrien wouldn’t have…” I trailed off when I saw Chris catch his breath and look down at the floor. “I’m sorry. Did I say something…?”

             
“It’s nothing. I guess I’m a little jealous you have a new guy in your life. It’s stupid, though. Why should I be jealous? It’s not like I don’t have a girlfriend or anything.”

             
“Oh,” I said, zipping up my jumpsuit.

             
“Not a big deal,” he said, zipping his own. But I knew he was lying for my benefit.

             
“Just so you know, no one can replace my Sunshine Boy. In fact, you and Adrien are practically opposites.” He didn’t seem to take any comfort in this. He threw a clean mop into a bucket of water and rang it out.

             
“What did you end up doing?”

             
“We went out for pizza and then he took me to Phantom. Something I’ve always wanted to see. He made me a chocolate cake. That’s it.”

             
“Are you two getting pretty serious?” he asked, working on a cola stain on the floor.

             
I thought for a moment, unsure what to say. Was I falling for Adrien? Yes, I think so. Was I in a real relationship with him? Not really. Not a lasting one. And anyway, we haven’t even kissed or anything. “I don’t know. What do you mean by serious?”

             
“Do you see yourself with him six months from now?”

             
The question, although not unreasonable, was like a punch in the stomach. How could I answer that? I busied myself with some Windex and a rag and said, “You’ve got to hear what Mary gave me. She found an old letter from Abby.”

 

***

             

              After work, when I opened the apartment door I didn’t expect to see Mary making out on the couch with a guy, or Adrien sitting at the kitchen table (head to toe in green, of course), eating an apple, reading
Crime and Punishment
. Nag Champa incense was burning on the side table next to the monkey lamp. I could smell a hint of Tiger’s litter box, too. Time to change that. Adrien turned to me and smiled. Oh man. His smile did things to me you wouldn’t believe. He stood and gave me a quick half hug, a quick peck on the cheek. He let his arm linger around my waist. Our eyes wandered over to the oblivious couple molded into a big lump on the couch. I wanted it to be us. I wanted it to be Adrien and me doing that on the couch. I glanced at him, wistful. Was he thinking the same thing? Did he want to kiss me as much as I wanted him to kiss me? Or did his depression and lack of will to live suck those desires out of him? And then it made me wonder: Has he ever been in love? If he dropped his defenses and let himself really fall for me, would I be his first?

             
We continued to watch the mound on the couch, amused. We started snickering simultaneously. Starting to laugh at the same time made us laugh even harder. And of course Mary and the boy she was slobbering all over were oblivious.

             
Okay, I wanted to be them, only not so gross. Mary was nearly sucking the poor guy’s face off. And then it hit me: was that Keaton she was kissing? Abby’s Keaton?

             
As we approached them, I theatrically cleared my throat. After a second try with no success, I grabbed an empty Hires root beer can and threw it at Mary’s head. My aim was perfect. A few remaining drops of brown liquid splashed onto Mary’s black jeans. Adrien made a failed attempt to stifle another chuckle.

             
“What?” Mary said, finally pulling away. She looked up at our surprised, amused faces. Lipstick was smeared around her mouth, giving her a clown face. “Oh.”

             
“What do you think you’re doing?” I said, placing my hands on my hips. “What are you thinking, Mary?”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“You’re with
Keaton
now?
Abby’s
boyfriend?”

             
“She’s dead, September.” The way she looked at me, one would think
I
was the crazy one. Keaton rested his elbows on his knees, studying the edge of the oriental rug on the floor. It was strange seeing him again. I hadn’t seen him since the funeral and having him around brought a funny feeling into my stomach and a prick to my heart. It made me miss her all over again, with a fresh intensity.

             
“Keaton and Abby were together for years,” I said. “It’s not
weird
for you…?”

             
“I always had a thing for Keaton,” she said as if he weren’t in the room. She chewed on a black fingernail. “And now there’s nothing stopping me from—”

             
“You speak of Abby like she was some—some—”

             
“You know I loved her every bit as much as you did. Of course I’m still sad she’s gone. She was our best friend.” She shrugged. “But life goes on.”

             
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Yeah, I guess for
you
it does.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Mary, Abby would be—”

             
“Maybe I should go,” Keaton said, standing up, looking more uncomfortable by the second. He wore a Muse t-shirt and his black pants were tucked into tan army boots.

             
I shook my head. “No, Keaton. Stay. It’s actually really nice to see you again. It’s been waaaay too long.”

             
“It totally has,” he said, throwing his arms around me, giving me a bear hug that nearly knocked us both to the floor. His eyes became glassy as he pulled away. I gave him an understanding look, communicating:
I miss her, too
.

 

***

             

              “Chestal is
not
a word, Mary,” I said, not bothering to hide my exasperation. I got up to grab Adrien and myself another ginger ale. “Anyone else want more soda?” I asked, opening the practically empty fridge. Mary and Keaton shook their heads. Abby’s ginger ale was almost gone. The thought of it made me a little sad. It was one more piece of evidence that my best friend was gone and never coming back.

             
I plopped on the floor beside Adrien, Indian-style and handed him the soda.

             
“Thanks,” he said, touching my knee.

             
“Chestal is too a word,” Mary said, protecting the Scrabble tiles with chewed away fingernails as I tried to slide them off the board. “Okay, let’s ask the writer.” Mary, Keaton and I simultaneously turned to Adrien.

             
He shrugged. “I’ve never heard of it. What does it mean?” he said, taking a big bite of licorice.

             
“You know. The chest area. Like ‘He has a lot of hair in his chestal area’,” Mary said, gesturing to her own chest.

             
“Okay, we don’t need the visual,” Keaton joked.

             
“Yeah, right, you made that up. You’re always breaking the rules,” I said, opening my ginger ale and taking a swig.

             
“Rules are made to be broken,” Keaton said, balancing an empty soda can on one finger.

             
“It’s not in the dictionary,” Adrien said. “I’ll bet you a hundred bucks.”

             
Mary made a face. “Chestal
is
in the dictionary. The diction
Mary
.”

             
“Cute,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just because you made it up doesn’t make it a word.”

             
“All words are made up by someone. Why can’t I make some up?”

             
“She has a point,” Keaton said, letting out a loud burp.

             
“You guys are impossible,” I said, growling. “I quit. I can’t bear any more of Mary’s cheating.”

             
Mary stuck her hands up. “I don’t cheat.”

             
“You always cheat,” I said.

             
“Who’s up for a movie?” Keaton asked, stretching. “Does Abby—do you still have
Harold and Maude
?”

             
“Of course,” I said, standing up. Abby had a killer movie collection. Mostly cult classics and 1980s stuff.

             
After filling a bowl the size of the Grand Canyon full of buttery popcorn and ordering Korean takeout for a late-night dinner (it was already ten and we’d forgotten to eat until now) we all settled into the couch, except Mary who snuggled up to Keaton’s legs and rested her head on his lap. He stroked her hair like a cat. She purred in reply. Adrien raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. I sat a few inches away from him until he pulled me closer and casually threw his arm around me. His scent overwhelmed me and made me feel weak all over.

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