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The solar lights create a path to the front door. The larger lanterns light the way to the backyard. I peer in the window of the garage and find that Jack’s car is missing. That means that either Lily’s here with Hayley or she’s here alone. Either way, I need to talk to her. I’m not going to accept no for an answer.
I stay in the shade of the large oak tree in their front yard. This tree hid one of our first kisses from the family. I could have punched a hole through it in my desperate attempt not to fall for her. I’m glad I failed, even now. I can feel her lips on mine from that day. My hand presses on the bark just about the spot her head would rest.
My eyes follow the trellis up to the shallow balcony on the second floor outside her room. The curtains are drawn over the French doors and her room is dark. Maybe she’s gone out with her father. A thousand other maybes flow through my head until a glimmer of hope appears in the form of a light in her room. What I can only guess is the lamp beside her bed turns on. She’s here.
Now what do I do?
I could call out to her. I could knock on the door and ask to be let in. No. What I need to do is give her something she wouldn’t expect. I need to get her to talk, even if it’s her in her ivory tower and me in the grass. Leaving the cover of the tree, my feet shuffle across a bit of the gravel landscaping beneath her window.
There was a night that she curled into me while we watched a movie she told me her father loved. I watched it initially because I was like, well Keanu is in the thing so it can’t be bad. He plays the part of a former soldier who pretends to love and be married to a young Mexican woman. At one point in the movie, he sings to her under her window. All he wants is for her to acknowledge their growing love. I won’t sing. I want her to actually come to the window, but I remember my Shakespeare, grab a handful of rocks at my feet, and begin a gentle shower of them at the base of her windows.
After about the ninth or tenth one with no response, I’m about to give up and walk away. I even turn my back to the house, resigning myself to the fact that even the grandest of gestures won’t be enough. I take one step back toward my car when I hear the click of the doors opening and Hayley steps just outside. “Wes?”
“Hey. Hi.”
When we last saw each other two weeks ago, I looked at her but didn’t really look at her. She was Hayley. She was my girlfriend. Today when I see her, she looks both rested and tired. She still looks thin, but not like the day she passed out in my arms. Her hair is piled in beautiful waves on the top of her head. Her glasses hide her eyes a bit, but the blue still shows through.
“What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. Not really. Eli’s not here. My parents are gone. I don’t think you should be here.”
I march back to stand directly beneath her. “Here is exactly where I should be. I should have always been here. Maybe I haven’t shown you in the ways I should have or the ways you needed but, Hayley, I belong with you.”
Hayley rests her hands on the balcony rail. Her shoulders sink and her head bows forward. Every bit of confidence I’m used to seeing in her is gone. “Wes, I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Nothing has changed. I’m still a mess. You’ve still got too much to sort out. This just isn’t… it’s just not…”
“Just not what? Not pretty? No, it’s not, but it’s what we’ve got. I need you to talk to me. I want to work through it all. I have so much to tell you.”
“Wes, please go. Please. This is just too hard.”
“This is too hard? Fuck. This is easy. Staying apart is what’s hard. You used to see that. You were the one who told me we’ve got this and that you’d stay by my side. Now I’m telling you that. I just need you to listen. Come down so we can talk.”
“No. Please listen to me. No. I can’t come down. Thank you for coming to check on me, but please go.”
A state of panic sets in. This is my chance. This is our moment. I know this is right. I think about going in the front door. It seems so far to go, and her bedroom door could also be locked. It’s a crazy idea, but the only way in is up. I’ve done it before when this room belonged to Eli. We’d sneak in and out for horrible reasons. This is the first time it’s felt one-hundred-percent right.
“I’m coming up, Hayley.”
I remember the order of the stones to place my feet in. The pattern of them is just uneven enough for me to get a toe or a heel to balance then reach for the next. The trellis was always the backup plan. Usually the flowers were so thick on it, you were guessing where you could grab and steady yourself. This year there are breaks in the waves of vines so I can see things more clearly. The goal is the same, get to the balcony.
I start the climb. This is a hell of a lot harder than I remember. Each move is calculated, and the fear is there. Hayley’s face peers over the side and her voice radiates down toward me. “What the hell are you doing?” she screeches. I look up for a split second to see my progress and her face. At that moment, my foot slips and my grip isn’t enough to save me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hayley
I hate being afraid of everything. It takes so much energy. I’m working on it. Every day it gets a little easier to trust myself again. I feel like I’ve cleared a major hurdle today with my mom and dad both going out, even if it’s only for dinner with friends, and leaving me alone.
I made myself a protein shake and a salad for dinner. It tasted so good. That’s another hurdle for me, loving food again. I constantly talk to my therapist about the same thought, how did it get this bad, this fast? She doesn’t have many answers for me. She wants me to look at the sum of my choices, I think. I chose not to be vocal. I chose to overtrain and undereat. I chose not to stand up for myself. I chose not to ask for what I needed. While I know the situation with Wes and Hannah was the catalyst, the problem is much deeper.
After I clean up the kitchen and shut off all the lights, except the one over the sink my mom always leaves on and the desk lamp in my father’s office, I wander up to my room for the rest of the routine I’ve created for myself. I brush my hair over and over. It instantly relieves my stress and anxiety. I put on my favorite pajamas, and I climb into bed to journal my day. My journal is filled with thoughts of failure and disappointment. It’s also filled with how much I miss Wes.
One of the things I miss most is movie night. Wes would never bitch about what he called “chick flicks.” He’d watch every single one. His hands would never leave me. He’d be touching my hair, holding me across his body, or pulling me to his side. I’ve tried to watch them here by myself. I find I can’t and don’t want to.
My mom has been encouraging me to read. I’ve gone back to the classics. Tonight, Shakespeare is my friend. When all else fails Romeo and Juliet never does. I have the book in hand and my lamp on when I hear a gentle tap…tap…tap…coming from the base of my balcony door.
I pull the sheers back to see if there’s a bird or a squirrel. When I find nothing, I open the door and step out. Just then, a tiny pebble lands at my feet. After pulling it into my hand, I take another couple of steps to peek over the side.
