Elevated Read online

  See if Trav’s mom had come back.

  The apartment door wasn’t closed,

  The hall on fourteen wasn’t silent,

  Jesse’s words weren’t nice.

  “…if you think you’re the only one to fall for your best friend,

  You’re wrong.”

  Jesse’s voice,

  Brimming with anger.

  “Everyone has a summer fling.

  If that’s what this is—”

  Trav cut him off

  With a low current of fury

  In his tone.

  I couldn’t hear his words

  Over the slap-slap of my feet.

  I pushed open the door,

  Saw them faced off in the living room,

  Jesse’s hands clenched,

  Trav’s jaw working overtime.

  They both turned to look at me.

  “Summer fling?” came out of my mouth,

  Shocked,

  Small,

  Foreign.

  Jesse stepped closer,

  Said, “He hasn’t broken up with her,” and

  “I don’t know if it’s a fling or not,” and

  “He could call and end it now—why hasn’t he?” and

  “You’re too good for him.”

  Every word made Travis angrier,

  Each syllable added to the tension in his shoulders,

  But he didn’t say anything,

  Didn’t move.

  Just looked at me,

  Breathed with me,

  Loved me.

  To Trav, Jesse said,

  “You shouldn’t be hooking up with her

  While you still have a girlfriend.”

  “We are not hooking up,” I managed to say

  While Trav said nothing.

  Was kissing hooking up?

  Did going to the movies count as hooking up?

  Does playing Xbox and eating dinner together mean we’d been hooking up?

  Jesse made an exploding sound with his breath,

  Grabbed me by the wrist,

  Pulled me into the hall.

  As the door swung closed,

  I turned to look at Trav.

  He stood there,

  Watching,

  His chest heaving,

  Silent.

  Just before I lost sight of him,

  His shoulders deflated,

  His fists unclenched.

  Why couldn’t he say anything?

  Why hadn’t he moved to comfort me?

  Why wasn’t he following us?

  “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” I DEMANDED

  Once we were in the elevator.

  “You’re a jerk.”

  Jesse said nothing,

  Punched the button for the roof.

  “Has his mom come home?” I asked.

  The elephant elevator groaned.

  “Have you guys paid rent?” I asked.

  Something above us clanged.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” I asked.

  A beep sounded as we passed my floor.

  “Do you really think this is a fling?” I asked.

  The doors slid open to reveal a summer night,

  Not quite dark,

  Still muggy,

  Hot,

  Perfect.

  Jesse exited the elevator without me;

  I followed him to the edge of the roof.

  He leaned against the wall;

  I sat next to his feet.

  Talking would be easier without having to

  Look him in the eye.

  I waited.

  I’d learned that Jesse needed time to order his words,

  The same way I did.

  “His mom didn’t stay,

  But she left money on the counter for rent.”

  “That’s something,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Jesse said.

  More silence.

  Increased nerves.

  Stronger worry.

  “I brought home pizza tonight.

  We’re doing okay.”

  “Okay,” I echoed.

  Longer silence.

  Deeper shadows.

  Stretched patience.

  My butt felt numb,

  Yet I didn’t move.

  “I don’t know if it’s a fling,” Jesse finally said.

  “I don’t know if he’s using you because

  He’s lonely,

  Scared,

  Sad,

  Or what.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “I hope like hell he’s not.

  I’ll kill him.”

  “What did he say just before I came in?”

  “He denied it,

  Said he really was in love with you.”

  The sand on the concrete crunched

  As he settled beside me.

  “Why hasn’t he broken up with her yet?”

  I examined my fingernails,

  Looking for an answer,

  While I mentally recited eenie, meenie, miney, mo.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said.

  “You’re too good for him,” Jesse said,

  For the hundredth time.

  “I know you like him,

  But I’m not sure he’s worth it.”

  “He’s your cousin,” I snapped.

  “You know his situation better than anyone.

  Shouldn’t you be defending him?”

  Jesse reached over and took my hand in his.

  It felt warm and safe,

  Cooled the fear bubbling inside,

  The rage.

  “His situation is my situation,” Jesse said gently,

  Softly,

  Calmly.

  “You think I don’t understand where he’s coming from?”

  My eyes felt too tight,

  My throat too thick.

  “I do,” Jesse said.

  “But I would never lead you on like this.”

  “He’s not leading—”

  “I would never go out with you,

  Kiss you,

  Without breaking everything off with everyone else first.

  So that you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That I’d do anything to be with you.”

  THAT TIME ON THE ROOF,

  Jesse held me while I cried,

  While I wondered why Trav didn’t want to do everything to be with me.

  That time on the roof,

  Jesse’s voice erased the hurt,

  Eased the pain,

  Whispered reassurances.

  That time on the roof,

  Jesse provided the anchoring I needed,

  The friendship that grounded me.

  That time on the roof,

  I was glad Jesse wasn’t Travis.

  TRUTH:

  When Honesty left for the summer,

  She left a gap inside me that needed filling.

  Jesse had been there.

  Travis had been there.

  I’d been just as happy with the two of them,

  Without their money,

  As I had been with Honesty

  With hers.

  That truth hurt,

  And it grew,

  And when it was said out loud,

  Bad things happened.

  I HADN’T SEEN HONESTY FOR TWO MONTHS.

  I should be excited,

  Should be happy to hear about her sight-seeing,

  Her shopping,

  Her flirtations.

  Honesty had been my whole world pre-Trav.

  “Everything was boring without you,” I said,

  Bumped her with my hip,

  Brought the best-friend smile to her face.

  “You had Trav.”

  She fingered the fabric of a black dress,

  Didn’t look at me.

  “And Jesse,” I said,

  Because it was true.

  Jesse had carved something special inside me,

  Something I could
n’t name.

  “Don’t forget Jesse,” I repeated,

  So she’d know I didn’t spend all my time with

  Her boyfriend.

  “You kiss him yet?” she asked.

  “We’re not like that,” I said,

  Pushed the hangers around.

  “Jesse’s just a friend.”

  Honesty nodded,

  Mm-hmm’ed.

  “Trav didn’t call as much as I thought he would.”

  She moved to another rack,

  Her eyes purposely searching for sizes and price tags,

  Said, “You didn’t either.”

  My heart pounded.

  Did she know about me and Trav?

  Suspect anything?

  I felt like the buttons on every dress were watching,

  Recording my every move.

  The way I blinked too fast,

  The way I wouldn’t look up from the floor.

  My nervous energy was evident,

  Plain for everyone to see.

  “I just thought you were too busy.”

  My words sounded like half-truths to my own ears,

  Even if they were technically true.

  “And with the time difference…”

  “Next summer, you’ll have to come with me.”

  Honesty held a white dress against her body,

  Bit her lip.

  “You’d love France.”

  Just like that,

  The months apart melted away.

  If she suspected anything was going on between me and Trav,

  I wouldn’t be invited to France.

  We shopped,

  Tried on clothes,

  Gossiped,

  Sat down in the food court for lunch.

  My jumbled thoughts of Travis and Jesse lingered in the back of my mind,

  Far from me and Honesty.

  “Do you think I should go back and get that dress?”

  She licked strawberry yogurt from a plastic spoon,

  Locked her eyes on mine.

  “The pink one?”

  “No, the white one with the flowers along the bottom.

  Travis has this thing for flowers.

  I could wear it tonight.

  Maybe then he’ll finally make it past first base.”

  She twirled the spoon,

  Didn’t react when I started choking on my Diet Pepsi.

  I wasn’t sure if I was more shocked to learn that Trav had a “thing” for flowers,

  Or that he and Honesty hadn’t made it past first base.

  “What are you guys doing tonight?” I asked,

  Examined my soda like carbonation fascinated me,

  Glanced at her.

  The tiniest of frowns creased her mouth.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked much since I got back.”

  She gazed straight at me with those blue eyes,

  So clear,

  So trusting.

  “I’m super excited for tonight. How’s he been?”

  “Fine, I guess. I don’t see him all that much.”

  With that lie,

  A pure,

  Blatant,

  Outright lie,

  I imagined the weight the words carried.

  In my head, I saw her head snap back

  With the punch she hadn’t seen coming.

  My punch.

  Tears filled those lovely eyes,

  Blood dripped from her nose,

  Ruined the white flowered dress Travis would never see.

  “So what about the dress?”

  Honesty didn’t think anything was wrong,

  At least not with me,

  At least not then.

  I blinked,

  Erased the bleeding image of her,

  Cleared my throat.

  “Yeah, you should get it.”

  I followed her through the mall,

  Smiled when I felt like I should,

  Oohed and ahhed over the white dress with stitched sunflowers along the hem,

  Agreed that Trav wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself,

  Said she should definitely wear the push-up bra.

  But I couldn’t wait to get away from Honesty.

  Because all I could see was her blood coating

  Her face,

  Her dress,

  That bra,

  His hands,

  With crimson,

  Red,

  Bleeding,

  Weeping,

  Smears of guilt.

  THE ELEVATOR RELEASES MY SOBS,

  Which quieted a while ago.

  But Trav still holds me to his chest as if I’m his heart,

  And he’ll die without his most vital part.

  Funny, I think.

  That’s how I felt about him.

  How I still do.

  “Do you have a thing for flowers?”

  I’ve known him since he moved into the building when he was five.

  Our birthdays are four days apart.

  He has no idea who his dad is,

  And his mom’s worked at least ten jobs over the years,

  An off-again, on-again junkie for as long as I can remember.

  Our shared bond came because I live in the shadow of the twins,

  And he exists in streaks of complete darkness.

  He makes my life worth living.

  I’m a source of light when he has none.

  “Flowers?” he asks,

  A slight waver of uncertainty in his tone.

  “Yeah,” I sniffle.

  “Flowers.

  Someone told me you had a thing for flowers.

  I didn’t know that about you.”

  The unsaid words hover in the air between us.

  Trav blinks,

  Frowns.

  “I, yeah, I guess I like flowers.”

  He follows a tear down my cheek with his thumb.

  “But you knew that, Elly.

  I brought you flowers a bunch of times last summer.”

  “But I never thought it was because you liked them. I thought—”

  I pause, not really sure what Trav’s flowers meant to me.

  I guess I just thought that’s what boys did when they liked a girl.

  Because girls like flowers,

  Not the other way around.

  “I liked the way they made you smile at me with that edge in your eyes.”

  “Edge?” I ask.

  “The one that said, ‘Thank you, love you, can’t wait to kiss you.’”

  Travis settles back onto the floor next to me,

  Not touching,

  But close enough to kiss.

  TRAV SLOWLY SLIDES HIS FINGERS BETWEEN MINE.

  “I’m sorry,” he says,

  Real soft,

  Like he’s afraid loud noises and sudden movements will startle me.

  “I made a lot of mistakes with you,

  A lot.”

  With his free hand,

  He gently turns my face until we’re eye to eye.

  “But Elly, I don’t regret it.

  I wish it had happened differently,

  But I’m still glad it happened.”

  “Everything?” I ask.

  “You’re glad everything happened?”

  He gazes at me steadily.

  “Every single thing.

  I am so in love with you,

  And if you’ll let me,

  I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to—”

  “Prove it,” we say together.

  “I’M GOING TO FLORIDA,” JESSE SAID LAST AUGUST,

  Flopped onto the couch,

  Flipped through the gaming menu on the Xbox.

  “Florida?” I asked,

  My voice too squeaky.

  Trav wasn’t there;

  Him mom had taken him for a bonding moment.

  “A trip for ice cream can’t buy me,” he’d muttered just before leaving.

  But he’d gone,

 
; Just like he’d gone to the mall with her to buy jeans,

  Just like they’d gone to the baseball game last week.

  Jesse claimed she was trying,

  She’d gone to work every day for weeks,

  She’d paid the rent, the utilities,

  She’d questioned Trav about his upcoming senior year.

  Gaming with only Jesse had become natural,

  Easy,

  The way it was with Trav,

  But without the possibility of kissing.

  “I don’t want you to go to Florida,” I said.

  “I need to get out of here,” he said.

  “It’s not healthy.”

  I frowned,

  Put my controller down so I could study him,

  Asked, “Baseball?”

  “Baseball,” he said,

  Looking at me,

  Somehow saying more than that one word.

  I wasn’t sure what he meant,

  But my heart heard,

  I need to get out of here,

  Spoken in my own voice.

  “Your mom?” I asked,

  “When’s she out of rehab?”

  “Just after Labor Day,” he said,

  “That’s why I have to go soon.

  I have to get out of here before

  She has a chance to drag me down again.”