Pictures of You (27 page)

             
“Then stay with me. Don’t leave me.”

             
He hesitated. I counted the beats of my throbbing heart, waiting.

             
Hope began dwindling as the perfect moment passed. We began moving downward, back to earth.

             
“I wish I could. I promise you I would if I could. You’re the best thing to happen to me in years. Well, ever, actually. But there’s something you don’t know, something that would change your mind about me.”

             
“Nothing could change my mind about you. Adrien. Please. Stay.”

             
“Even if I did, even if you knew the truth and accepted it, it wouldn’t change the fact that I’m a monster. I destroy everything I love. Everything I touch. I’ll destroy you, too. It’s better for us both if I leave. Trust me on this one.”

             
“I want to trust you. I do trust you. But things are rarely as bad as they seem. Five, ten, twenty years from now you won’t see any of this the same way.” He shook his head. “Tell me what it is. We’ll deal with it. Together,” I pleaded.

             
“I can’t.” He turned away from me.

             
My eyes welled up. “Then…at least…kiss me.”

             
“I can’t hurt you. I love you too much to hurt you any more.” He smiled sadly, lowered his head, letting his eyes fall to the balled-up fists in his lap.

             
Before I could open my mouth, the machine operator opened the side of the seat. “This way please,” he said, guiding us off the ride.

***

              Adrien offered to buy me dinner, but I wasn’t hungry, although I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Food was the furthest thing from my mind. So he bought himself a corndog and scarfed it down. How could he eat at a time like this?

             
Without fully realizing it, we wandered away from the lights, away from the people. We kicked off our shoes and let the wet, gritty sand enclose the bottoms of our feet, sucking us into the earth. Adrien threw his arm around my waist as we strolled along the edge of the shore.

             
“Did you really finish your note?” I asked, feeling defeat creep up on me like a jungle cat.

             
He nodded. “Yesterday.”

             
“Then why didn’t you…?”

             
“I had to say goodbye first. You would’ve killed me otherwise.”

             
“Very funny.”

             
“
I
wanted to say goodbye,” he said, tightening his grip around my waist.

             
“How very thoughtful of you.” I didn’t bother to mask the sarcasm in my voice.

             
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stopping mid-stride and turning to face me. He enclosed my hands in his, his skin warm to the touch.

             
“I am, too.” I studied his tormented face, consuming every detail. This would be my last chance to see it—in the flesh. “How are you going to…do it?” My voice trembled.

             
“I’d rather not say.” He pursed his lips. “You don’t need to live with the image in your head.” I was thankful for that. I guess it was better not to know.

             
“Are you scared?”

             
He laughed nervously. “Scared as hell. Scared of right before—how much pain will I be in before I go? Scared of what’s after. Heaven? Hell? Or maybe nothing. Maybe when I’m gone, I’m just…gone.”

             
I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing back tears. Heaven. I wanted to believe in heaven. I wasn’t religious, but it was a kinder, more bearable thought than the alternative. “Tomorrow then?”

             
“Tomorrow.”

             
“Morning? Noon? Night?”

             
“I haven’t decided.”

             
We stopped to watch the moon paint the ocean a vibrant yellow-gold. We could hear a seagull cry and kids laughing and faint carnival music playing in the distance. The music seemed to be taunting us. Cheerful music for a far from cheerful evening.

             
I wanted to leave then. I had nothing left. Like fireworks, emotions erupted then fizzled inside of me for too long and now I was just tired. So, so, so tired. I was ready to pull away, free myself of Adrien’s gentle grasp. Sleep. I wanted to sleep for days. Months. Wake up when things stopped hurting so damn much. “I think I’m going to go home now.”

             
This seemed to surprise him. His eyes bore into mine, his lips parted slightly. “If that’s what you want,” he said, although he kept resting his arm around my waist.

             
“I think there’s nothing left to say.”

             
“September…You’re right,” he said. “Nothing left to say.”

             
I took a shaky breath and collected the courage to say what I’ve wanted to say for days. I didn’t have to keep my promise anymore. Screw promises. “One last thing. You say you don’t want to hurt me. You say you don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And suicide’s your solution?” He looked at me expectantly. “If you kill yourself, you’ll be hurting
everyone
. Everyone who loves you. Your parents, your brother, your friends, your co-workers. Your godson. Mary. Probably me the most.”

             
He let my arm fall from my waist. “What do you want from me?”

             
“You know what I want. Change your mind. Get some help. Choose life. Choose me.”

             
“You promised, September. You promised you wouldn’t try to talk me out of it,” he said, his eyes pleading.

             
I growled. “I’m passed caring about stupid promises.”

             
“You don’t know what it’s like for me. You don’t know what I’m forced to live with every day, who I see when I look in the mirror. I’m a monster. A monster.”

             
“You’re not a monster. You’re sweet and gentle and funny. You’re beautiful, in every sense of the word.”

             
“I’ve…I…” He shook his head. “Will you settle for a kiss?”

             
“The moment’s passed.” I crossed my arms. “It’s too late for—”

             
Before I could say anything more, he grabbed me by the small of the back and pulled my body closer to his. He paused, our mouths inches away. He was so close I could feel his hot breath on my lips. “I really shouldn’t do this,” he whispered so soft, I had to strain to hear him over the crashing waves. I squeezed my eyes shut in anticipation, my breath labored, my body trembling. He took one more step, closing the gap between us, his body warm against mine. He kissed me wildly, passionately, like I’d never been kissed before. I returned the kiss, hungry and eager. Just when I thought I’d collapse from the intensity of the moment, he pulled away. I saw he was trembling, too, as he searched my face frantically.

             
“Wow. That was…” I touched my throbbing lips, stunned.

             
He laughed. “Wow is right. I should’ve kissed you a long time ago.” He cradled my face and kissed me a second time. This kiss was more deliberate, more tender. I wanted to kiss him forever. I could’ve kissed him forever, but my mind forced my body to pull away. I didn’t want this to hurt anymore than it had to.

             
“I better go now,” I said, feeling a little dizzy, stumbling in the sand. “Goodbye, Adrien.”

             
“September?” I froze, a drop of hope, like a butterfly, fluttered inside me. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

             
I was out of words—and the last of the hope dissipated, disappearing into nothingness. I looked at him one last time, drinking in his glorious face, before turning to go.

             
I walked away, dragging heavy feet in the sand—hot, bitter tears burning my cheeks.

27

             
In the morning I stayed in bed for hours. I drifted in and out of sleep, being plagued by strange dreams. Each time I’d awake, I’d hope the part about Adrien possibly already being dead was just part of one of the bad dreams. Each time reality struck me like lightening all over again.

             
I considered staying in bed for the rest of the day. What reason did I have to get up and face the day? The boy I’d fallen fast and hard for was ending his life—if he didn’t already—and there was nothing left I could do about it. I thought about calling the cops, but Adrien never gave me his number or address. I’d tried other things earlier in the week: Searching for his parents online. There were too many Grays in Las Vegas. Following Adrien home. But instead of heading home, he walked into a book store. I waited outside for two hours until closing time. The oddest thing happened. I never saw him leave. Had he slipped out a back door? Did he know I was following him? I went back to Mike’s Okay Cars to ask for Adrien’s number, his address, any clue to help me find him, but it was closed. A sign taped in the window, written with a sharpie, read:
Closed for a family emergency
. Smashing the window with a huge rock to find Adrien’s contact information came to mind. But even if I found it, what could I do? Even if I had him institutionalized, he’d be free to harm himself the second he got out. Bottom line: Adrien was free to do as he pleased and ultimately there was no stopping him.

             
I hadn’t slept much the night before. I bawled like a baby until Mary threatened to take me to the hospital to have me sedated. “What’s wrong? Is it Hot Waffle Guy? Did he break up with you?”… “Is it John and April? I’ll beat them up for you, I swear I will. Just say the word.”… “Is it Abby? I miss her, too.
So much
.” I said nothing in reply, too worked up to tell her the story. Mary finally climbed in bed beside me and held me like my mom used to until I fell asleep.

             
When I finally did get out of bed, I could barely shovel a few spoonfuls of soggy Cheerios into my mouth. Between my trembling hands and my stomach feeling like it’d become home to dozens of snakes, I didn’t even bother with lunch. Horrifying images of Adrien shot through my mind, a slide show gone awry. The images stalked me throughout the endless morning like the paparazzi. Images of him killing himself in every possible way—ODing, slitting his wrists, hanging himself, carbon monoxide poisoning, jumping from a bridge or tall building—the list was endless. Thoughts of him being all alone in the last minutes of his life. Images of his long body lying in a coffin.

             
And then there were the memories. I thought about the day we met at Anderson Art and Frame. The day we formally introduced ourselves at Tim’s Coffee. Our first date. The morning he made Mary and me waffles. Our photo shoot. Dress shopping. His flu survival kit. The mix CD he’d made me. His smile that turned my insides into mush. The carnival. I thought about our kiss more times than I’d care to admit.

             
I tried busying myself, attempting to keep my mind off of
him
, but nothing worked. I scrubbed every square inch of every tile in the bathroom. I organized the Tupperware. I spent the better part of the afternoon watching
Friends
reruns on TV, but my mind kept roaming back to Adrien.

             
At three I took a shower. By then I was so exhausted, I could barely raise my arms to wash my hair. Like an unsupported clay sculpture, my wobbly legs gave out. I finished the shower sitting on the floor of the tub, bawling like a baby.

             
The thought that Adrien could already be dead made me sick. Sick, sick, sick.

             
He could be gone. Now. Forever.

             
I fell onto my bed, clutching my chest and suffered through a full-blown panic attack. Or could it have been a heart attack? At this point I no longer cared.

             
I threw up three times as I dressed myself for work, once on my foot, once on my poor cat. The third I managed to get to the toilet in time.

             
“You look
horrible
,” Mary said, frowning at my bloodshot eyes, my red-and-white crazy quilt skin. “September, please just tell me what’s wrong. Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”

             
“I’m okay,” I lied, smiling weakly. I never got around to telling her about Adrien’s impending suicide.