Secrets (Swept Saga) (9 page)

After much hard work I had something I was pleased with. I read it over and over making sure I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’m sure it wasn’t the best poem ever written and I’m positive it didn’t hold up to Shakespeare sonnets, but it would have to work. Besides, how often does someone get a poem written just about them?

I grabbed a notepad and began writing a letter. Justin had this thing about hand written letters; he felt it was a lost art form. He refused to send e-mails and would often comment that e-mail was the death of the written word. “If you write something by hand it’s easier to organize your thoughts and create a work that might even be art. Typing and printing takes all the beauty out of the written word. Anyone can sit down at a computer and bang away on the keys, but to write something with your own unique hand writing and to feel the ache in your hand from writing all the details and to put that much thought into something, now that is art and speaks of how much you care about someone… or hate them depending on the kind of letter. But I don’t think I’d be mad at a hand written hate letter. At least they took the time to write it out in their own writing how much they hated me. That is a special kind of hate to put that much time into it.” He would say and then laugh his hearty laugh. I smiled at the memory as I tried to put my thoughts in order and write as legibly as I could. I hoped that Crystal’s reaction would be a good one.

I wonder if she’ll keep the letter with her or if she’ll think it’s silly. Of course I want her to cherish these words, but maybe poetry is lost on women these days. I scratched out what I had written, balled it up, and threw it in the trash. What if she laughs at me and thinks it’s stupid? I’ve put so much work into this and I don’t think I can sit there and be scorned over it. With this poem I’m practically handing her my heart and saying here, read it and don’t hurt it. Was I willing to put myself out there like that? Could I bear to let her hurt me?

I buried my face in my hands, then stood up and went to the kitchen sink. I know the poem is stupid, but it’s what I feel. I turned on the water, cupped my hands under the running stream, and doused my face. The cold from the water was enough to snap my thoughts into place and strengthen my resolve. It’s my love for her that drives me crazy, and if I look like a fool at least she knows I’m her fool. At least she’ll know how I feel about her and how she affects me. I want her to know me and I want her to love me. People don’t gain love by holding back and guarding their thoughts. They gain love by putting themselves out there even when they feel stupid. They give their heart even if it means heart break. I was willing to let Crystal have my heart even if it meant she would break it and I might never recover. Didn’t some famous person say, “It was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?”

Before I could change my mind I wrote everything down on a piece of paper, then I folded it up, stuck it in an envelope, stamped and addressed it. Then I marched myself down to the post box and stuck it in. I had a bad moment when I thought about running back over and digging for my letter before Crystal could see how stupid I am, but then I realized that it’s done. Sweet or not she will get it soon. All I can hope is that she likes what I wrote.

My hands were buried deep in my pockets as I walked back to my dorm room, my head down thinking about that letter sitting in the box undelivered and I walked right into someone. Well she wasn’t someone she was Kelly; I knew that from the pictures I’ve seen in Crystal’s room. I looked up to apologize and the words froze on my lips before I could get them out. Her makeup was smeared and she was crying. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I asked her.

“I’m fine,” She mumbled.

“You don’t look fine to me, can I walk you somewhere?”

“You can walk where you want, it’s not my problem if you follow me,” She said and started walking away. I could see fresh tears filling her eyes, so I followed her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever introduced myself, but my name is Gabriel.” I said hoping the name would ring a bell and let her know I wasn’t a creep.

“You mean Gabriel, the one that Crystal was seeing?”

“We’re still seeing each other, and yes.” I answered without thinking and immediately wanted to kick myself.

Kelly’s mouth popped open in surprise, “I thought she broke up with you, she’s with Ryan.”

“Yeah, about that it’s supposed to be a secret, so don’t say anything.”

“I didn’t think Crystal would be the kind of person to handle two guys at once.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.”

“So, what were you crying about?”

“Nothing, everything.” She answered.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because you are Crystal’s friend and I care about her. That means I care about you too.”

“Did you know I’m in love with him?”

“In love with whom? I’m not following.”

“Ryan, I love him, but he’s so wrapped up in Crystal he could care less about me. Ever since he got her to start seeing him he’s started treating me worse. He hasn’t asked me over in a while now.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“What’s even worse is he doesn’t care about sex anymore. It’s like I don’t exist, even when I’m off with Nick he doesn’t care. He used to, we had an agreement. I knew he loved Crystal but I was hoping he would…” She trailed off.

“Wait, he’s been sleeping with you?”

“Not that it matters but I was with him when she called him and told him she wanted to be with him. He kicked me out.”

“Wait, so, give me a second my head is spinning. Ryan loves Crystal, but he’s still seeing you, and you’re letting him do that to your friend?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Crystal talks about you like you’re her best friend she trusts you and you aren’t telling her about Ryan?”

“Look, Gabriel it’s a secret, it was supposed to be just sex and Crystal isn’t supposed to find out.”

“Do you care about her at all?”

“It looks to me like she’s got it all figured out. I mean isn’t she the one playing you and Ryan?”

“That shouldn’t matter what should matter is you being a friend to her.”

She frowned at me, and then lowered her voice, “If you say anything to her about it. I will tell Ryan about you and her.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Do you want to be with her or not? You do realize I could say anything about you to her and she would believe me.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because in some sick way I want Ryan to be happy and as much as it kills me to see him with her at least he’s happy.”

“Hey, you want some advice Kelly? Move on from Ryan. Find someone else and get out of Crystal’s life she doesn’t need you around anyway all you do is hurt her and drag her down.”

“Well aren’t you such a nice guy. I’ll try to remember that when I’m making up some story about how I saw you fucking Mary.”

“Who’s Mary?”

“Does it matter?”

“All that Crystal will hear is that you’re unfaithful and you don’t want that do you?”

“No”

“Then let me offer you some advice, learn how to shut the fuck up.” She said before walking away.

I’m stunned, I had no idea Crystal’s friends were like this. She’s such a good stable person, how did she end up friending someone like Kelly? She deserves so much better. At least she’s getting some footing with Tiffany. I can see that being a good thing for her, Tiffany seems nice enough and I haven’t seen her do anything to cause concern. Not like Kelly, anyway. I walked back to my dorm with more drama added to my list. What is it about girls and drama anyway? In my room I pulled up the NASA website there’s promises of a meteor shower, something tells me Crystal is going to love it.

 
Crystal

Chapter Seven

Shower

 
A
song is playing somewhere in the class room and I’m trying to make notes. I lean in closer to the sound and realize it’s the ringtone for my phone. I must have forgotten to put my phone on silent. The song gets louder as it continues to play and I’m trying to decide between ignoring the fact that my phone is ringing or fumbling for it in my backpack and turning the sound down. I glance around the room and see some of my class mates sneaking looks in my direction. Maybe if I ignore it no one will know that it’s me. The music is still playing and now there’s no mistaking where it’s coming from. My classmates are now looking in my direction I try to remember how long my ringtone is, then I remember it’s the whole song and it plays until it goes to voice mail.

My professor pauses in the middle of writing on the board and looks around too. Shit, he can hear it. Maybe I can get my phone to stop. I start kicking my bag hoping I can hit a button that will make my phone stop. The music cuts out mid-sentence and finally there’s silence from my phone. I relax a little in my seat and everyone turns their attention back to the front.

“Hello? Crystal? Are you there?” I hang my head. I wasn’t successful; I just put my phone on speaker mode. “Cryyyyyystal!” I hear my mom’s voice from my phone. This time everyone is looking at me. “You’re only making it worse by letting it sit there. By all means answer it Miss Hamilton.” My professor says, while turned towards the dry erase board. “Yes Sir.” I answer and grab my phone out of my backpack and turn off the speaker. “Yes.” I hiss.

“Oh Crystal, I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were ignoring me!” She says.

“Mom.” I whisper.

“I’ve been so busy, but I’ve been thinking about you. How’s Ryan and that other guy, what’s his name…

“Mom” I say again only just a little louder.

“Miss Hamilton, you should probably take the call outside of the classroom.”

I fumble with my bag trying to put everything in it and carry it out of class. “Hold on mom.” I interrupt, she’s rambling about work. I manage to make it out of the room with everyone staring at me.
Great
, I think to myself, enough
time goes by for them to get bored with the flyer incident and now there’s this.
“What’s wrong honey?” my mom asks.

“Nothing, you just called while I was in class.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. You didn’t have to answer I would have left a voicemail.”

“I know, mom, I forgot to put my phone on silent.”

“Oh.”

“So, why did you call?” I ask her. I talked to her just last week. In fact she calls me every week, but never in the middle of the day while I’m in class.

“I was thinking about you and wondering how you were.”

“I’m fine.” I answer.

“Have you heard anything from Ryan’s parents?”

“I talked to Michele a few days ago, why?”

“Have they said anything to you? Anything important?”

“No, mom, Michele just wanted to know how I was and told me that she misses me and hopes I’m taking care of Ryan and all of that.”

“So nothing about hospitals or doctors?”

“No, why would they say anything about that?”

“No reason, honey.”

“Mom, is there something going on?” I ask. Her questions worry me.

“Oh it’s nothing, I must have misheard something.”

“What do you think you misheard?”

“Nothing honey. How are things, school and all of that?” She asks, changing the subject.

I chat with her about Ryan and Gabriel, unable to get my mind off of Ryan’s parents. The phone call was shorter than the other ones, but I had another class to attend. Now, I’m going to have to ask Ryan if anything is wrong at home. I’m sure he would have told me but we haven’t had much time to talk because of his job.

After class I breathe a sigh of relief, another day is closing and I’m that much closer to the end of the semester and a break. And Tiffany and I are bonding. We found a common enemy, Emily, and we’ve been talking more and more each day. Upon entering my dorm and Tiffany waves an envelope in my face. “This came in the mail today.”

“Thanks.” I say taking the letter out of her hands. The off white envelope has no return address and I don’t recognize the hand writing scribbled on the front. It looks like it was written in a hurry. I try my best to open it without ripping it to shreds; I never was the best at opening them smoothly. I manage to not destroy the letter inside and unfold it. The words written on the letter are more legible than the one on the envelope. I’m touched and a little confused when I read the first few lines and my eyes skim down to the signature. Now it all makes sense. I’m truly touched he must have put a lot of effort into this.

“Who’s it from?” Tiffany asks, distracting me from the beautiful words written on the page.

“Gabriel,” I answer.

“What’s it say?”

My face turns bright red in response, I’m not sure if I want to share it with her. “Oh come on you have to tell me now, it can’t be that bad.” Tiffany begs.

“Fine.” I relent and begin to read the letter out loud.