HIM (5 page)

              “The next best thing,” I said, pointing to Jack and Joe’s Fish Bowl – a little hut on the sand.  “Beach bums and locals come here all the time.”

              “Sounds promising,” he teased once more.

              “Oh hush.  It’ll be great.”

He laughed fairly vociferously.

              We reached the little window of the hut and placed our orders – a flounder fish basket for me and a tuna melt with onion rings for Jensen.

              “Sorry,” I said as we dug into our food sitting on the sand, the lake water dampening our toes. The water seemed to be glowing or maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me.

              “Sorry for what?” he chuckled.  “For suggesting such an affordable and great place to eat?”  He dipped an onion ring into ketchup and took a bite.

              “No,” I sighed.  “For being a piglet.”  I was being serious but Jensen laughed.

              “You?  A piglet?  I don’t think you could ever be considered that, Avalon.  Now a fox
definitely
.”  There was a sexy gleam in his eye.

I laughed, feeling a tad bit self conscious about my body.  I certainly didn’t resemble our waitress at the restaurant in any way.  But then again I don’t think he wanted to be with someone who looked like her.  Otherwise he would be, right?

I’m so insecure it’s pathetic.

“Besides,” he added, “I like a girl who isn’t afraid to eat.  Food isn’t meant to be something to be afraid of.  It’s meant to be enjoyed.”  After that remark I giggled to myself and continued eating.

After we finished we took a walk along the sandy beach as we digested our meal.  We listened to the seagulls fly overhead and the waves crash on the shore.  It was reasonably chilly out for a summer night in Michigan.  The water was nippy but the sand seemed warm in comparison.  There was a full moon out – so bright – I could see my shadow on the sand.

              In Old Tily’s I’d told him I needed to talk to him.  But about what?  I searched for something interesting.

              “When I was little,” I began, “my family used to take trips to Michigan all the time.”

              “That must’ve been enjoyable,” he said with a grin.

              “Very.”  I smiled at the memories of carnivals, the lake and cotton candy.  That all seemed so long ago.

              “Why did the trips stop?”

              I sighed without saying a word.

              “Oh I-I’m sorry,” Jensen fumbled his words.  “That was rude of me.  You don’t have to answer.”

              “No, it’s okay.  When my dad passed away my mom and I kind of stopped taking trips.  I never really knew exactly why.  It might have been the lack of money or the pain it would have caused her to come back here.  My guess was a little bit of both.”

              “I see,” he commented.

“What about you?  Have you traveled much?”

“I’ve been all over the world.  Spain, Israel, Arabia, Italy, Canada, Greece, Japan, Turkey, Dominican Republic, Australia and every state at least once.”

              “That’s really amazing,” I smiled.

              “Have you ever been out of the country?”

              “Ha!  Not even close.  Growing up with the basics was all I had.  Not to say that was a bad thing or anything.  I’m grateful for what I’ve had.  But there’s nothing wrong with wanting a little more.”

              “I completely agree.”  Jensen smiled at me and I smiled in return.  “I’m guessing Tory told you about my many foster families?”

              I nodded.  “I’m sorry.  That must’ve been tough on you.”

              “When your parents leave you with a substantial amount of money it isn’t so bad.  I traveled.  Each new place I visited was a home to me.”

              “Did you ever get lonely?”

              He stopped walking and stared out at the lake.  “I’ve been lonely for as long as I can remember, Avalon.”

              “Me too.”

              Jensen turned to me, his face an indescribable emotion.  Without lingering too long on the conversation he asked, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?  Pets?”

“No siblings.  No pets.  Just my mom and I,” I explained.  “Well except for Tory.  She’s always been there for me.  She practically
is
my sister.”

“Tory’s a great girl.”

“So…you never…”

“I never what?”

“You never…had…feelings for Tory?”

Jensen laughed loudly.  “Oh my goodness, no.”

I chuckled in response.  “Why not?”

“We just…I don’t know…weren’t meant for each other.”

“So you don’t think she’s pretty or funny or intelligent or –”

“To be honest,” he shared, “I haven’t really noticed.”  Before I could respond he added, “Now
you
on the other hand…you’re something special.”

              “Me?  You’ve got to be joking.”

              “I’m serious.”  His smile was broad.  “You’re different from any woman I’ve come across.”

              “In a long time?” I wondered.

              “Ever.”  His word lingered in the air as I took it in.

             
Ever.  I’m the only one.

The sky was getting darker; a gray-black hue was filling the space above us.  We could no longer see the seagulls overhead.  The waves seemed quieter as well.  I wondered why that was.

              “So you’re just here for the summer?” I asked as we hiked up a sand mountain.  Someone had built an elaborate sand castle at some point.  We did our best not to ruin it as we walked past.

              “Uh…yeah.  Temporarily.  I matriculate a lot.  So I don’t really have a
home
.  But how about you?  Staying here just for the summer?”

              “Yeah.  I’m sure Tory told you about our living situation.”

              “Of course she did.  I was just checking to see if you wanted to stick it out in Michigan a little longer than just the summer,” he smiled.

              “No,” I sighed.  “New York is my home.”  He grinned widely as he stared into my eyes.  “Wow,” I smiled back.

“What?”  His white teeth glimmered under the moonlight.

“You have an incredible smile.”

Did I just say that out loud?

“Thank you.  I could say the same about yours.”

A warm sensation filled my chest.  “Don’t take this a weird way but you remind me of the really good memories of my childhood.”

“Hmm …” He chuckled.

“What I mean is…you remind me of candles…
light
.”  His eyebrow rose.  “Your smile reminds me of Hanukkah candles…Shabbat candles.  It’s symbolic.”

He shook his head, smiling.  “I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”

“Bring what up?”

“Your connection to Judaism.  Tory told me that you’re Jewish.  I am, too.”

“You are?”

“I’ve been Jewish…for a very long time.  I used to help my mother prepare for Shabbat every Friday night.  I still practice daily just don’t necessarily keep everything.  Every person holds where they can.”

“I can relate,” I smiled.  “I used to help my mother for Shabbat as well.  Tory doesn’t really get why I light candles every Friday night or why I dress the way I do.”  I shrugged my shoulders, glancing down at my modesty.  “My faith hasn’t necessarily dwindled it’s just a bit more difficult to want to do certain things.  It’s hard for me to practice more…after what happened a little while ago.”

Jensen sighed.  “About the other day…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him, recalling our heated discussion in the beach house.  “Water under the bridge.”

The wind started to blow harder, giving me goose bumps.  My hair was flying all around me and my dress was being pushed up against my body.  It was certainly chillier than it had been earlier in the day.

              “Maybe we should start heading back to your place,” Jensen suggested.  Although I didn’t want this date to end I knew it had to.  We walked back to the beach house.  When we reached the top step of the wrap-around porch Jensen smiled at me.

              “I had a very nice time tonight,” he told me.  “I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

              “Same.”

              “Can we do this again sometime?”  Hope was in his azure eyes.

              “Of course.  How about tomorrow night?” I allowed.

              “I work the late shift.  But if you wouldn’t mind helping me stock some beans I’d be more than happy to have your company.”  We giggled.  “Most nights it’s not busy at that time anyway.  My manager wouldn’t mind if you hung around, I’m sure.”

              “Tomorrow night then.”  I was floating on air.

He is everything I’ve been searching for.

              “Is ten o’clock too late?”

              “I’ll be there.”

              He smiled contently.  “Goodnight, Avalon.”

I grinned, heart fluttering; almost jack hammering against my rib cage.  I couldn’t help but smile.

Jensen turned around and headed back into the night as I shakily and happily searched for the keys to my summer home.

The next morning I found myself practically whistling as I washed my face.

The sky seemed brighter and so did my future.  In result of my date with Jensen the night before my world appeared different, happier.  I walked gracefully into Tory’s kitchen to find her fidgeting with the seahorse necklace Adam had given her.  It was a sight to see, poor girl.  She had tears in her brown eyes that made me want to cry.  I hated seeing her so upset, especially over a guy who would do something so despicable to her.

              “Hey, Tor.”  I gave her a big hug and she giggled underneath my embrace.  She was five-foot-six and wearing four-inch designer heels today.  She towered over my five-foot-five frame.  I had to look up to see her face – puffy and red.

              “I thought this would be easy – getting over him, you know?  But I was wrong.”

              “It’s just going to take some time,” I informed her.  “Your feelings for him won’t go away over night.”

              “But I want to get over him
now
,” she whined.  “I’m
tired
of this feeling.  It feels like my heart’s been ripped out of my chest by a wilder beast,” she complained.

              “Thanks for the visual, Tory,” I muttered.  “Adam isn’t worth your tears.”

Yeah, because
I’m
the poster child for good habits when a relationship ends unexpectedly.

I took a napkin from the counter and gently dabbed at her damp face.  She sniffled and took a deep breath.

              “I know.”

              “The first step is to get rid of
that
,” I said, referring to the necklace while holding out my hand.  Tory held on tight staring down at the object as if it were going to speak to her.  She inhaled, kissed the seahorse, reluctantly gave me the piece of jewelry and exhaled.  I dumped it in the garbage, blocking it so she couldn’t lunge after it while it took the final plunge.

              “That necklace was a part of me, Ava.  And now it’s gone. 
Forever
.”

              “I’ll buy you a new necklace,” I offered.

              “But it’s not the
same
,” she grumbled.  I felt like I was dealing with a toddler.  I wondered if this was how she felt about me all these months.  “Adam,” she winced, “gave it to me on our one month anniversary.  I told him I’d never take it off.”  She sighed heavily.  “Maybe if I’d given
him
something to remind him of
me
he wouldn’t have …”

And the waterworks started once more.

              “You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Tor.  It was
his
fault.”

              “I don’t care,” she griped.  “I probably could have done something to stop this from happening.  Like if I decided to go to school by him he wouldn’t have fallen in love with that
boyfriend stealer
.”  She said the last two words with such hate I cringed.  Tory was never the type to get angry or upset.  She was generally a bubbly, happy-go-lucky girl.  It was a shame to see her like this.

              “Tory, listen to me.  Adam moved on.  It wasn’t meant to be.”  I knew that sounded quite blunt but what I was I supposed to tell her?  That he’d come back for her some day?  I’d be lying to her, especially because I didn’t know if that would ever come true.

              “I know, I know,” she grumbled, attempting to calm herself down.  “I’m just so
miserable
.  Is this how you felt after…well…you know?”

              “Something like that.  But after some time it got easier.” 
He
popped into my head – his face, his eyes.  I shook it off before I let myself get too deep in my own thoughts.  What I’d said to Tory was partly true.  It
had
gotten easier . . . once I met Jensen.

“And now you’re happier?” she asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

Recalling my rendezvous with Jensen brought a smile to my face.  “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

She shrugged.  “No offense but I hope it doesn’t take me almost a year to get over Adam like it did for you with –”

              “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen for you.”

              “I have to be brave,” she told herself out loud, sitting up straight.  I could see the unsettling expression on her face.  Tory wiped at her eye makeup.  “I must look like a raccoon,” she giggled.  And that she did.  Her mascara was smudged into circles around her eyes.  I dabbed a washcloth in some warm water and handed it to her so she could deal with the mess.

              “Want to do something to take your mind off of Adam?” I suggested, feeling bad I said his name.

              “Yeah,” she mumbled, blowing her nose.  “I’d like that.”

Tory and I went up to her room, which was marginally roomier than mine.  Not like I’d been in there since last year.  In fact I slept in every room but the one I’d been raped in.  I couldn’t even pass it without some sort of spasm or emotionally gut-wrenching thought taking over.  Honestly it was a controversial subject – one that I’d love to talk about someday without flinching or feeling the urge to vomit.  But I didn’t feel that way in Tory’s room.

It looked as if a pre-adolescent child had inhabited it.  The walls were a pale shade of crimson.  Her comforter set, pillows, rug and lamp were all hot pink.  She had an array of amazing smelling perfumes from the many places she’d traveled growing up: Paris, Rome, India.  Little ballerina figurines and other trinkets filled the space as well.

It was cute.  It was chic.  It was Tory.

              Scattered pieces of paper were strewn across her large oak desk – which if I recall took six men to bring upstairs because it was heavier than a full-grown walrus.  Or something like that.

Beside her desk were four extremely large bookshelves containing every romance novel known to man.  Seriously.  She had everything from Shakespeare to Jane Austen to F. Scott Fitzgerald, Nicholas Sparks, Stephenie Meyer and beyond.  At one point I’d been jealous of her.  That is until I acquired the same books she had . . . and then some.  She’d told me once that she’d hit her quota for romance novels.  She had her true love – Adam – and didn’t need to read about something she was already experiencing.

Again, I felt sorry for her.  This must have been what it was like to be around
me
for so long.  I wished I could diminish the memories – take them out of her head and destroy them forever – so she wouldn’t have to feel pain anymore.  G-d knows what I went through with
him
.  She didn’t have to feel the same thing I did.  Well you know, something similar to what I went through.  Although she hadn’t spoken the words I knew what she was trying to cover up: Adam had cheated on her.

We were sitting on her queen sized plush bed looking through old, ripped notes that felt as brittle as straw and tattered pictures from high school – which might I say felt like eons ago.  We had attended the same school district in New York.

              There was one picture of us from freshman year:  Tory sitting on my lap while my legs and arms thrashed out around her.  It looked as if Tory had four arms and four legs – like an octopus.  It made me laugh.

              Looking past what our bodies were doing, I noticed the expressions on our faces, remembering how life seemed to be so simple, so carefree before boyfriends got involved.  It made me realize that being in a relationship all the time wasn’t so important.  Back then we thought a zit was the worst of our problems.  We were overly dramatic.

              We’re all looking for
true love
, right?  Well in high school I guessed we all figured we’d find
the one
.  Even though all these statistics said ninety-seven percent of high school sweethearts married, what I’ve seen is about ninety percent of relationships failed past graduation.

             
Suck on that, statistics.

              “It’s so funny,” I said glancing at the photos.

              “What is?” Tory asked looking at a picture of us from junior year at a football game wearing matching jerseys to support our home team.

              “How we thought things were so complicated back then.”

Tory snorted.  “Yeah, right.  We didn’t know what hardships were until college and failed relationships came around.”  Since Tory didn’t go to the same college I went to, if her last class went until 12:30 PM, by the time the clock struck 12:34, she was already in a taxi on her way to see me.  She would spend the rest of the day at my house or I would come see her at her dorm.  My schedule resembled hers the best it could.

I could have gone to NYU if I wanted to; I was accepted.  It’s just that I didn’t have the funding I needed to go – which was a lot.  Tory’s parents offered to help me out but I declined, reminding them they’d done enough for me over the years.  Not to mention the things I’d gotten from them now.

It’s a long list.

              “It’s sort of disappointing though.  I wish we still had that innocence – not knowing what heartache or hard work was.  Now it’s just . . . out of control,” I said, not only recalling my relationship with
him
but the workload college supplied us with.  I was glad it was summer break.

              “Tell me about it.”

We sat there, reading over past notes to each other and reminiscing when Tory asked me how my date with Jensen went the night before.

              “It was very sweet,” I answered, blushing.

              “Oh.  My. 
Gosh
.”  Tory sat up straight and placed the notes back into a light pink, frilly box she’d hand-decorated herself when she was in her crafty stage a few years back.  “Tell me
all
about it.”  She was expecting something mushy and romantic.  Although I wanted to tell her about my experience I didn’t think this was the most appropriate time to be bringing up my giddy situation when Tory was practically in a mourning state with her own relationship.

              “Tory, are you sure you want to talk about this right now?”

              She glared at me.  “Tell me or I’ll give you a paper cut!” she threatened, grabbing a note from the box, holding it an inch away from my big toe.  “Talk.  Or the little piggy turns to bacon.”

              I snickered and rolled my eyes.  “It wasn’t what we
did
that was so great…it was
him
.  Everything about him was just so…
unreal
.”

Tory was beaming.  I laughed from her reaction.

“Ava, I’m just so glad you’re moving on.”  She shared a questioning look.  “You
are
moving on, aren’t you?”

Am I?

              “I think I am?” I cautioned.  Was I really willing to give
him
up?  After everything we’d been through – the good and the bad?  Okay, well towards the end, mostly bad.  But some part of me still loved him.  And would always love him.  No matter how much he scarred me emotionally and physically . . . for life.  “That’s the plan.”

              “I’m so proud of you!”  She flung herself at me, hugging me wildly until I had to push her off.  “And it’s all thanks to
me
!”  A big smile appeared from ear to ear.  For a long while we sat there, laughing and talking about Jensen.

              “Hey Tory, how come up until now you never mentioned Jensen?” I asked, curious as to why my best friend hid the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on from me.

              “He never really came up,” she admitted, shrugging.

She explained to me that every summer, excluding post-high school graduation, she went to a co-ed sleep away camp in Florida; very wealthy children attended.  I remembered all those summers she left to attend the camp.  We went through about eighty-five post cards per summer because we wrote so much.  I was completely shocked that in none of the letters did she ever mention Jensen Marx; because that’s where she had met him.  She continued to explain how they’d been pretty close over the summer but always drifted apart during the school year.  When they met on the beach last week she was in complete shock and had to invite him over.

              “When are you two seeing each other again?”  She sounded a little too eager.  I couldn’t blame her; I was just as enthused.

              “Tonight.”

              “Aw!  I’m so excited for you!”

              “Nothing’s really happening yet,” I admitted sheepishly.

              “Avalon, you’re dating again.  You’re talking to
men
again.  You’re happier – like you’re on cloud nine.  I already see the old you coming back to life.”

I couldn’t deny it.  I felt a change within myself and enjoyed the feeling.  I just hoped it would last long enough for me to evolve completely.