You Are Not Here Page 11
my arms and legs are sore
and I have a major headache.
I just want to go home
and wash my face
and get into bed.
I sleep
heavy,
hot,
and dreamless.
Sometimes I catch myself
starting to feel a little bit happy,
starting to look forward to things
like going back to school in a few weeks.
But then I am struck
with fear.
What if I get into a car accident
and get seriously hurt?
What if I die?
What if something terrible
happens to my mom
or one of my friends?
These thoughts creep
up on me.
The death book says
that when my thoughts race,
I should try to stay present.
To be where my feet are.
But I don’t want
to be
where my feet are.
They still feel
for fault lines.
The death book wants me
to consider getting back to my routine—
to find myself again.
It wants to know if I am ready
to move on,
to try to get back to normal.
But I don’t know
what normal is.
Jewish people
are meant to return to their routines
after seven days of mourning.
Muslims get three days
(longer, if a wife is mourning her husband),
and Hindus get thirteen days
after the deceased is cremated.
None of these
seem like enough time.
Ethan and I are last to leave work.
Even though I tell him I want to go home,
he insists that we go to the local carnival.
It comes every year at this time.
It’s nothing fancy.
Skee-Ball, ring toss,
and a few mildly scary rides.
Before we walk over to the carnival,
Ethan changes out of his uniform
and into jeans and a rugby-type shirt.
This might be the first time
I’ve seen him in normal clothes.
At the carnival,
Ethan buys a roll of tickets
before I can even protest.
“Let’s go on the Gravitron first,”
he says, pulling me
toward what looks like a spaceship.
Ethan hands the guy
enough tickets for the two of us,
and we go inside.
Cheesy techno music is blasting
as everyone finds a spot
and leans against the red-padded walls.
Once the ride is somewhat full,
the entrance doors dramatically clang shut.
The ride starts off spinning slowly.
But the longer and faster we spin,
the more we stick to the mats.
Everyone is laughing and screaming
because they can’t
pick up their arms, legs, and head.
Based on the ride’s name,
I suppose gravity’s at work.
Maybe if I’d paid more attention
in science class
I’d know what was happening.
Ethan looks really happy.
He’s laughing a deep belly laugh.
But all I can think is:
This feeling is familiar.
Feeling stuck.
Frozen.
I wonder
if I started crying,
would the tears freeze on my cheeks?
Or would they roll down,
defying gravity?
Thankfully, it’s not long
before the ride slows
and I can pull myself
off the mat again.
When we step outside,
I’m a little dizzy.
Ethan sees that the ride hasn’t affected me
the same way that it has him.
He’s still smiling.
I must look green.
“Should we try something
where our feet stay on the ground?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say
even though I’d rather go home
or sit and talk to Brian.
But he’s just too excited,
and I can’t say no.
“Come on. I see Skee-Ball,” he says.
I reluctantly follow behind him.
He’s like a kid let loose in a toy store.
“You know, I’m pretty amazing at this.”
“Really? I suck.
How about I just watch.
Maybe I’ll even cheer.”
“Okay. Prepare to have your mind blown.”
He sinks the ball into the forty pocket
over and over again.
Tickets are coming out of the side
of the machine like crazy.
I can’t help but cheer.
“You’re a Skee-Ball genius!
How’d you do that?”
“Raw talent, Annaleah,”
he says as he grabs all the tickets
and ushers me in the direction
of the prize counter.
“Your pick, cheerleader.”
“Me? But you did all the work.”
“It’s okay. Giant Hello Kitties
aren’t really my thing.”
“All right, then. That one.”
I point to a unicorn with a sparkly horn.
When the ticket guy gives me my prize,
I hug it tightly to my chest.
As Ethan walks me home,
I wonder,
Does he think this was a date?
It sort of feels like a date—
especially that last part
with the unicorn.
But he hasn’t tried to kiss me
or hold my hand,
so maybe it isn’t.
Just as I am wondering
if I even want it to be a date,
I see the edge of the cemetery.
I feel like I should duck behind a tree
so Brian doesn’t see me.
It’s like walking past the cemetery
with Ethan is cheating—
like I am doing something wrong.
Even though nothing has happened.
Ethan turns to me and says,
“I’m glad we finally hung out
somewhere that’s not Renzo’s.”
But that’s when he sees
that my eyes are full of tears.
“Oh, God, was tonight that bad?” he asks.
“No, no, it’s not that.
It’s just that,
there was this guy.
We were sort of together
and then…”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
But there’s no way he does.
We walk the last block to my house
in silence.
Ethan takes me to my door and says,
“See you at work tomorrow.”
Then we hug awkwardly
with the unicorn smushed between us.
I go inside, but not upstairs.
I wait by the door for a minute,
then look out the window.
When Ethan’s out of sight,
I slip back out the door.
I owe Brian an explanation.
“So that was Ethan.
He’s the guy I told you about
from the pizza place.
This is the first time we’ve hung out
besides at work.
I shouldn’t have to explain,
but I feel like I do.
Like you think
I was cheating on you.
I know that’s crazy,
/> but that’s how—”
The sound of footsteps
startles me into silence.
I turn and see a guy’s silhouette
making its way toward me.
Even though the air is warm,
my body goes completely cold.
As the person strides closer,
the details of a face
come into view—
it’s Peter.
Brian’s closest friend.
I saw him speak at the funeral,
but we’ve never officially met.
“I thought I was the only one
who came at night,”
he says.
For the second time tonight
I feel as if I have been caught
doing something I shouldn’t.
He sits down next to me and asks,
“How did you know Brian?”
I hope that what I am about to say
will be familiar to him.
That Brian talked about me.
That I meant more to him
than he let on.
“We were
kind of, sort of
seeing each other.”
“Oh. You’re Sarah?”
His question wrecks me.
Wrecks all of the stories
I have told myself.
I didn’t think it was possible
for words to hurt this much.
“No.
I’m Annaleah.”
Peter sucks in air
through his teeth,
then lets it out really slowly.
“Oh, God.
I’m so sorry.
I didn’t know you
and Brian were…”
But I’m already getting up.
“I should let you
be alone with Brian.”
I don’t know why
I’m surprised.
I shouldn’t be.
I know Brian and I weren’t
boyfriend and girlfriend.
I know that he was terrible
about calling me back
and making plans.
I knew he had a life
when he wasn’t with me.
But all that dissolved
when we were together.
I wonder
who Sarah is.
I wonder
if she was at the funeral.
I wonder
if she’s the blond Marissa saw.
I wonder
what Brian liked about her.
Is she prettier than me?
Funnier, smarter, sexier?
I get a flash
of Brian having sex with her,
and it is awful.
I can’t be sure that they even had sex,
but it’s definitely a possibility.
I feel like I am going to puke.
Was Peter telling me about Sarah
a sign from Brian?
If so, it was cruel.
He didn’t need to do that.
He’s already gone.
He didn’t have to make it hurt more.
Or maybe it was the universe telling me?
Maybe it thought that this would help me
get over Brian.
Or was it just chance
that Peter and I were at the cemetery
at the same time?
Absolutely nothing otherworldly at work.
No greater purpose.
No sign.
Nothing.
I shut my eyes
and see a pocket of darkness.
I want to fold myself
flat and crisp,
slip inside of it
like a sheet of paper
into an envelope.
At work the next day I say,
“Ethan, I should explain
about last night.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yeah, I do.
You see,
I was sort of seeing this guy
and he died of this freak heart thing.
It only happened two months ago,
and I’m still trying
to figure everything out.”
“I know.”
“What do you mean
you know?”
“I know about Brian.”
I am so confused by hearing Ethan
say Brian’s name
that anger
doesn’t set in right away.
“I don’t understand.
How do you know
about Brian?”
“I heard your girlfriends talking about it
while you were in the back.
And then I remembered
reading about his death in the paper.”
He must be talking about
when Marissa and Jessica were here.
“You’ve known basically since I started
and didn’t tell me?”
“I figured you’d bring it up
when you were ready.
I don’t understand, Annaleah.
I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“You know, I knew
there was a reason
you were being so nice to me,”
I say, backing away from him.
“What?
It’s nothing like that.
I like you.
You’re interesting.”
“Interesting…right.
Like a sociology experiment?
Did you want to study
a real, live, grieving girl?”
“Annaleah—”
“I better check on my tables.”
“Annaleah, wait.”
But I don’t.
In bed, I cannot sleep.
I think about my dad
calling on my last birthday.
When I pick up the phone,
he doesn’t say hello.
He just starts singing in a goofy voice.
When he’s done he asks,
“So, do you know
what your birthday wish
is going to be?”
He asks me the same thing every year.
“No. I haven’t decided yet.”
I roll over and look at my alarm clock.
“Dad, it’s really really early.”
“I know.
I just wanted to be the first person
you talked to today.”
“You’re definitely the first.”
“Okay, baby.
Go back to bed.”
“Thanks, Dad.
Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When I hang up the phone,
I pull the covers over my head,
block out the early morning light,
wrap my arms around my pillow,
and sleep
sleep
sleep.
It’s hard not to speak to someone
when speaking to them is part of your job.
For the next few days,
I only speak to Ethan about pizza.
I refuse to acknowledge him
in any other way.
Instead of chatting with him
when it’s slow,
I make napkin wraps.
I fill salt and pepper shakers.
I wipe down already clean tables.
I sit in a booth
and count the tiles on the wall.
Any of these things is better
than talking to Ethan.
Before, I didn’t have anything to say.
Nothing was happening.
There was only death.
There was only Brian.
I finally have something to say.
I call Parker.
I tell him about Sarah.
I tell him about Ethan
knowing about Brian.
“All that in twenty-four hours, Lee?
Sounds intense.”
“Yeah.”
&n
bsp; “I have two theories.
Wanna hear them?”
“I don’t know.
Do I?”
“I’m gonna tell you anyway.
One: It’s heinous
that Brian was seeing someone else.
But you’ve got to keep it in perspective—
you weren’t officially together.”
“Thanks for the news flash.
What’s two?”
“I think you overreacted
when Ethan told you he knew about Brian.”
“But he lied,” I snap.
“He didn’t lie, Lee.
He respected your feelings.
Apparently, there are still guys
who do that.”
“But I feel
like he had ulterior motives.”
“To do what? Become your friend?
Take you to a carnival? Have fun?
How shocking!
Someone should arrest him
before he befriends someone else!”
“Not funny, Parker.
I don’t want to be someone’s friend
just because they feel bad for me.”
“Whoever said that was his reason?
Did it ever occur to you
that he might like you
just because
you’re you?”
I don’t have an answer.
“So what’s your plan, Lee?
Are you going to keep ignoring
the nice, thoughtful, cute boy?”
I decide to call.
I know it’s time.
I know I have to do this.
As I hit SEND on my phone,
I feel humbled.
Like I am slinking back
after having done something
terribly wrong.
Now the phone is ringing
and I’m wondering if it’s too late,
if maybe Marissa
won’t want to be friends anymore.
Marissa and I agree
to go to the movies.
The movie was my idea.
I suggested it because it seemed safe.
We could be together,
but not have to talk the whole time.
I’m not sure
how all this is going to go down.
Probably not like Brian’s funeral.
That was our one day of grace—
like she hadn’t freaked out
when I told her that Brian and I had sex,