Elevated Page 8
I thought of Travis,
The way he snapped to attention when his mother came around,
The way he disappeared inside himself when she left.
I wanted to talk to Jesse,
Ask him if he acted the same with his mom.
I didn’t.
“Let’s game,” he said,
Picked up his controller again.
I punched buttons,
Thought about what he’d said.
I need to get out of here.
At least he had somewhere to go,
A destination with promise,
An activity he loved.
As Jesse’s departure grew closer and closer,
I tried to find something for myself,
Something besides Travis.
I hadn’t been able to,
And when Jesse showed up on the roof that last night,
Alone,
Distraught,
He’d said, “Tell me straight.
Tell me he’s worth it.”
I knew he meant Travis,
But I didn’t know what he had to do with
Jesse leaving.
“Is that why you’re leaving?” I asked.
“I’m leaving because there’s nothing for me here.”
Jesse filled the space next to me,
Radiated friendship,
Safety,
Fear.
“And I don’t think there’s anything here for you either.”
“Travis—”
“Will never leave Chicago,” Jesse said.
“I asked him.”
The sky seemed to spin too fast,
The stars blurred into streaks of light.
Jesse said so many things,
All of them swirling into the night.
There’s nothing in Chicago for you, Elly.
Find something—anything—you can do,
And get out.
I love Trav;
He’s my cousin;
But he’ll never leave this city.
He’ll never leave his mom.
He hugged me hard,
Fierce.
He left me standing on the roof
Without saying good-bye.
I thought I had another chance,
Another morning to see him,
Another moment to hold him close to my heart
So he’d know how much his friendship meant to me,
That I’d never forget this summer with him.
The next morning,
Before the sun rose,
He was gone.
His departure provided me with an example
Of how to get out,
How to move on,
How to grow up and be your own person,
No matter who your mom was,
Or if your dad didn’t know you.
I couldn’t help envisioning Trav doing that,
Leaving,
Moving on,
Moving out.
With me.
“I MISS JESSE,”
I say into the empty space of the elevator.
“Me too,” Trav whispers back.
“I heard he made the minors.”
“I heard that too.”
I heard it from Jesse,
Who texts me sometimes,
When he isn’t busy at practice,
Or work,
Or with his online classes.
I heard it from my mom,
Who found out from Trav’s mom,
Who had been in the hospital last week.
Potential drug overdose.
I want to bring that up,
Want to apologize that I hadn’t been there for him,
Want to talk through everything,
But this silence is too peaceful to shatter.
THE DAY FOLLOWING OUR SHOPPING TRIP
Honesty called,
Screamed,
Sobbed.
The day following our shopping trip
Travis broke up with her;
She refused to come to my building;
I walked to hers.
The day following our shopping trip
I took a roll of paper towels,
A box of ice cream sandwiches,
My best consoling voice.
Inside, I rejoiced,
Sang praises to the sky,
Couldn’t wait to get back to the roof.
“He didn’t even l—look at the dr—dress,” Honesty said,
Tears pouring down her face,
Hair spilling out of its ponytail,
Hiccups echoing against the words.
“Did he say why?” I asked,
Though I already knew.
If Trav had told her about us,
She wouldn’t have called crying.
She’d have called screaming,
Ranting,
Cursing.
Or she wouldn’t have called at all.
Honesty shook her head,
Settled on her bed facedown,
Cried for hours.
When her parents got home,
I escaped.
I went straight to Trav’s,
But heard the shouting before I knocked.
I couldn’t make out the words,
Couldn’t tell if Trav was angry or just frustrated,
Couldn’t tell if his mom was wasted or not.
Before I could leave,
The door flew open.
His mom stood there,
One arm waving,
Her voice saying,
“Go on, then. Leave if you want.
Leave!
Just like your father.”
I met Trav’s eye,
Saw the twitching in his jaw,
The resignation in his stature.
Heard him say, “I don’t want to leave, Ma.”
His mom didn’t look at me,
Didn’t say anything else,
Before bringing the door closed.
Jesse’s words about Trav haunted me—
He’ll never leave this city.
He’ll never leave his mom—
The same way Honesty’s sobs lingered in my ears
The day following our shopping trip.
“YOU’LL NEVER LEAVE CHICAGO.”
My voice fills the elevator,
Chases away the silence,
The comfort,
The peace.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Elly.”
“Tell me if Jesse was right.”
Trav sighs.
“About what?”
“About you,
About you never leaving this city,
About never doing anything different,
About never getting away from your mom.”
“I tried to do something different.”
He sounds defensive,
Wounded.
“I tried to do the right thing.”
“So did I,” I say,
Though he hasn’t exactly accused me otherwise.
“She needed more time,” he says,
“That’s all.
But we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You mean once school started,” I say,
“After you broke up with her we didn’t do anything wrong.”
Why did it feel so wrong then,
After he broke up with her?
Why did we have to sneak around
After he broke up with her?
Meet at midnight?
Lie to our parents?
Why did I have to tell Honesty I had phantom study groups,
Or extra chem lab homework,
Or the flu
After he broke up with her?
“You wanted me to ask you out,
Take you on dates.”
Trav folds his arms,
Clears his throat.
“I tried hard to do the right thing.
Not counting last summer—”
He says loudly as I star
t to protest,
“Not counting last summer,
I tried to do the right thing.”
“We should’ve told her together,” I say,
The sound getting lost in the space between us.
“We were in this together,
And we should’ve told her together.”
“I agree,” Trav says.
“Then why did you tell her without me?”
He shifts closer to me,
Takes my hand between his.
“I felt responsible.
I tried so hard, Elly,
So hard to do the right thing.”
This time,
Those words ring with truth,
With power,
With love.
This time,
I can hear it in his voice,
Feel it in his touch.
“I know,” I say.
“Then why didn’t you call me back?”
He sounds like he might cry,
The same way he sounded the day Jesse left.
“Why have you ignored me for months?
Why are you going to California?”
Because you didn’t call me until after.
Because Honesty asked me to.
Because I can’t live here anymore.
“I have to.”
“But—”
“But nothing.
I can’t stay here.”
BEFORE MY FIRST REAL DATE WITH TRAV,
Mom reached into her purse,
Held something toward me.
“Take this. Just in case.”
Horrified, I choked,
“Mom—” I started,
Stopped when I saw what she was holding.
A cell phone.
I looked up into her eyes,
Searching,
Unwilling to believe.
“I think it’s time you had one,” she said.
“You’re a senior now,
And I can’t expect you to be home all the time.
Maybe I’ll worry less if you have that.”
A piece of the impenetrable brick wall between us crumbled away.
“Wow, thanks, Mom.”
I hugged her,
Escaped to my room to get dressed,
To figure out how to add contacts to the phone.
I spent too much time fiddling with my new toy,
Because the next thing I knew,
The doorbell buzzed.
I stuffed the phone in my skirt pocket,
Darted across the hall to brush my teeth.
Murmurs of Travis’s deep voice mingled with Mom’s higher tone.
She laughed;
He chuckled.
My heart flopped against my lungs,
Leaving me breathless and flushed.
I crept down the hall,
Felt so unsure of myself,
Like the ground in front of me might suddenly vanish,
And I’d fall into nothingness.
Trav stood behind the couch,
His hands casually stuffed in his jean pockets,
His mega-watt smile trained on my mom.
Paired with the jeans,
He wore a blue polo shirt open at the throat,
His trademark green Converse on his feet,
A leather jacket draped over one arm.
He looked good enough to eat.
“Hey,” I said,
Stepped into the room,
Smoothed down my skirt,
Adjusted my top.
Honesty usually dressed me,
And I had no way to know if I looked good or not.
I pushed away the nagging twinge of guilt before meeting Trav’s eyes.
They’d broken up;
We were free to go out together.
But it felt wrong that she didn’t know about us.
He scanned me once, quickly,
Before sweeping me into a hug that made my feet leave the floor.
“Hey, yourself. You look great,” he whispered in the split second
Before setting me down.
I cleared my throat,
Gathered my jacket from the closet.
Heard Trav say, “I’ll have her home by midnight, Mrs. Livingston.”
Mom nodded,
Her eagle eyes missing nothing.
I didn’t know what she thought she might see,
Just that she’d find it.
“REMEMBER OUR FIRST REAL DATE?”
I don’t know why I ask,
Now,
In this non-moving elevator.
Why I want to talk about this at all.
“Every second.”
That’s why.
Trav provides the confidence I need,
The anchor in the storminess of life,
The promise that no matter what,
He’ll know what to say,
What to do.
“I want to take you out again,” he says,
“Start over. Find a new forever together.”
I don’t answer,
Can’t answer.
So much has changed.
Can I really start over—here?
In this same,
Stale,
Place?
With this same,
Broken,
Boy?
I don’t know,
But as my chest expands with a new breath,
I feel hope—something I haven’t entertained for a long time.
DINNER WITH TRAVIS HAPPENED IN A GREASY DINER.
I ordered my favorite food:
Cheeseburger and fries.
He ate the right side of the menu.
We laughed,
Joked,
Talked,
Like best friends do.
We walked downtown,
Me with my hands in my skirt pockets,
Him with his hanging loose,
Because I was afraid of holding his hand
Under the wide, open sky,
Afraid of claiming him as mine where everyone could see.
In the park,
Everything looked new and alive,
Because I was with Travis.
The trees towered taller than I remembered.
The grass smelled sweeter.
The moon shone with more silver.
Everything with Travis felt higher,
Better,
More.
Like I could be higher,
Better,
More.
Because he was.
We wandered,
Went to a movie,
Blasted the music in his car with the windows rolled down,
Played with the heat waves of summer.
After his typical bad parking job,
We waited for the elevator with shy glances,
With awkward,
Shifting feet.
Once in the security of the elevator,
Travis and I reached for each other at the same time.
His lips pressed warmly against mine,
He seemed to have more than two hands.
He cradled my face,
Ran his fingers through my hair,
Slipped one hand under my shirt to the small of my back.
Faintly,
From somewhere far away,
A ding! sounded.
As if in a dream,
I felt Trav pull away,
Heard him swear and punch one of the elevator buttons,
Before he reclaimed my lips.
After that, nothing else mattered.
The next day,
I timed how long it took to get from the lobby to Trav’s floor:
Three minutes, twelve seconds,
With an additional twenty-nine seconds to get to my floor.
I couldn’t believe I’d only kissed him for three minutes and forty-one seconds.
It felt like three lifetimes and forty-one degrees of infinity.
I’M CERTAIN IF TRAVIS COULD SEE
> What’s written on the shattered pieces of my life,
He wouldn’t be so quick to promise me forever.
There are still secrets he doesn’t know.
If I tell him,
I might lose him.
Just like I lost—
Enough, I scold myself.
Dr. Tickson doesn’t believe my theory
That the truth brings destruction.
He says that’s not why the people I love most have experienced tragedy.
Coincidence, he calls it.
He doesn’t have to walk down Senior Row
With an empty space at his side.
Doesn’t have to see my dad lying in a hospital bed
With legs too short.
Doesn’t have to feel the tightening in my abdomen
When I think of Trav.
I keep the secrets bottled up,
Unwilling to take the chance.
I wish Travis were more like me in this respect.
“I had to tell her,” he says in the elevator.
“I made a resolution.”
“Congratulations,” I say.
Most people resolve to lose weight,
Or get out of debt.
Trav decided to come clean about our relationship.
“You should’ve talked to me first.”
“I didn’t give her specifics.”
“She wasn’t stupid, Travis.
You told her you’d started dating someone else.”