My Only (33 page)

I remembered how nervous I’d been each time I was close to her. How when she’d smile, I’d feel myself relaxing.

The drawer of her nightstand was fil ed with al of the notes and little things I’d given her. One day I’d ask the Cartwrights if I could have them. I wanted to remember the words I’d written, words that were meaningful enough to make her save them. But I couldn’t read them yet.

I curled on her bed and breathed in the smel of her stil left on the pil ow. We’d lain here like this before, laughing, holding each other, talking about the present while I dreamed of the future I’d have with her.

Now Olivia was dead. She was nothing but ash and bone in a box. She would never laugh, never dream, never be in my arms again.

It seemed I was rarely alone when I was home. When he was awake, my dad seemed hyperaware of where I was and tended to be in the same room with me more often than not. Aaron’s obligation to high school sports was official y over, so he hung out with me more than ever. We didn’t do anything, and for the most part, I didn’t acknowledge him much. I was aware that he was with me, but I didn’t feel that I had any energy to do much else.

From time to time Casey stopped by. Today, he had his guitar. He was strumming out a song as he sat at the foot of my bed. Before he sat down, he’d brought over the bongos. Obviously I was meant to play along with him.

I just stared at the drum instead, remembering when Olivia had first come over and we’d tapped out a beat together. It was enough to send me back under the covers, curled in a bal . I kicked the drum off the bed, and felt satisfied when I heard the hol ow thump as it hit the floor.

“Dude,” Casey’s muffled voice penetrated my ears.

I was sure he was going to tel me to lighten up, or to grow up. I didn’t want to hear it, “Go away.” There was a moment of silence, then, “Nope. You’re stuck with me.” Casey strummed the guitar again.

“Go away,” I said again.

“Want to play
Warcraft
? Or
Magic
?” He seemed hopeful. I resented it.

As I sat up, the covers pooled around my waist, I leveled a look at him. “Does it seem like I want to play a game?” Casey turned his head away and mumbled, “No.”

I felt bad. I knew he was trying to help and somewhere deep down, I appreciated it, but I wished everyone would just leave me alone. I didn’t want to be around people. I didn’t want anyone trying to make things better. They would
never
be better. “Olivia’s dead.” When Casey looked at me again, sympathy apparent, I realized I’d said that out loud. He took a deep breath and stood, careful y resting the guitar against my desk. He walked to the window and looked out across the street. If Olivia was alive, he’d be looking right into her room where perhaps she would be studying, or talking on the phone, or dancing.

“I don’t think she’d want you to be like this.” At Casey’s words, I narrowed my eyes. The rate of my breathing increased. It didn’t matter that he could’ve been right. The anger was swift, and it seized me.

“Shut up,” I said in a loud, firm voice. “Like you even
knew
her. Like you even knew anything about her.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, casting his eyes down. After a quiet moment, he said, “But she loved you, right?” Of course she loved me! She told me al the time. She showed me even more than she told me. I opened my mouth to yel at Casey, but found I had no voice. The anger was draining away from me, leaving me with nothing but emptiness again.

“If she loved you,” he said, “then I didn’t need to know her to know she wouldn’t want you suffering like this. You’re my friend. If something happened to me, I wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

He left shortly after. I felt rage at being left alone. I was angry at Olivia—not so much for dying, but for getting involved with me at al ! She shouldn’t have let anyone get so invested in her when she knew her heart could give out at any time. I scanned my room and then I came upon the picture of us before the Spring Fling.

I knocked it off of my dresser then took everything else off in one huge swipe. I turned to my bedside table and did the same thing. My Little Boy Blue lamp broke as I hit the floor. I picked up the long metal rod that ran from the base to the bulb and yanked the cord from the wal then used the rod as a weapon, smashing it down over and over again on the top of my desk.

Things went flying. I wasn’t sure what I had damaged and what was left untouched. I could barely see through my tears.

It wasn’t until my entire room had been upended that I stopped and slumped against the wal . Later, the door opened. My eyes were closed, but I knew it was Aaron. While there was something instantly calming about my twin’s presence, I wasn’t in the mood to acknowledge it.

He’d treated Olivia horribly, and I wanted him to hurt for it. I wanted to make him leave my room, but I couldn’t muster the energy. Besides, it was hard to want to hit him when he was cleaning up my room for me.

“Laptop survived,” he said as he replaced it on the desk. When he was finished, he came over to me, mirroring my position, knees up, arms resting on them. The only difference was that while my head hung low, his was held up. “I know she meant a lot to you—”

“No, you
don’t
know. She wasn’t like one of the
many
girls you’ve been with. I know she was just another one to you, but she was my first, my
only
. And now she’s
dead
. You don’t know how that feels at al .”

“You’re right,” he said. “Sorry, I just . . .”

I remembered that Aaron used to be my best friend in grade school. Back then we focused on our similarities and not our differences. We never cared to define ourselves as individuals. Above that, he was my twin, my brother. The things I felt, he felt, like when he broke his arm and mine tingled for weeks. Like when we were eight and I slipped and slammed my head on the kitchen floor. He had a headache for nearly as long as I did.

Aaron might not be experiencing the same things I was, but I knew he was feeling something akin to it. I looked at him. He turned his head, and our eyes connected. I swal owed hard as I felt my eyes burn again. Trying to hold it together, I bit on the inside of my cheek. Just when I started breaking down, Aaron drew me into a hug.

I was thankful for his embrace.

The only thing that made it through my sobs was, “This hurts.”

His arms tightened around my shoulders. “I know.” He hugged me for a long time. Final y, when I pul ed back, feeling so very tired, he said, “It’s okay to feel like this, you know? Everyone understands, and I think it’s normal. But don’t let it take over your whole life. Feel your feelings, be as sad as you need to be, but then make the decision to move on, okay?”

I could hear Olivia’s voice saying the same thing to me.
Life’s too short to let sadness overpower you for long periods of time. Like you said,
everyone dies. I felt my emotions, cried my tears, and then came to peace. You don’t ever get over something like that. All you can do is
embrace the experience and do your best to go on.

I stared at my twin, wondering if he knew what he’d just said—if he understood at al . I didn’t know if he’d come up with that al on his own, or if Olivia had shared her thoughts with him, or if he was channeling her. Could she—her energy—be with me? Could she be comforting me through him, reminding me of the philosophy that had helped her get through tragedy?

Suddenly, my mind started firing rapidly and I stood. “Wil you take me to the bookstore?”

“You want to go to work?”

“No. M.T. Shelves. I need to go there.” I pul ed Aaron to his feet. The need felt pressing, like I had to go
right now
or I’d never be able to move on from this.

My brother put up no resistance. Within a half hour, I was down in the basement of the independent bookstore I loved. I sat in the metaphysical section, surrounded by the books that had made a difference in Olivia’s life. I flipped through a few, but I couldn’t read them. Maybe they would’ve helped, but I didn’t think I could focus long enough to read the words.

I sat there trying to get Olivia’s energy to come to me. If she’d worked through Aaron, she would definitely come to me here. This was one of our favorite spots. We’d spent hours down here together. We’d shared so many personal things right in this very spot.

I knew she would come to me. Her energy would settle down right beside me, and I’d feel her calming effect.

I sat down there for an hour, cal ing to her with my mind. If quantum physicists knew what they were talking about, that would be al it took to bring her to me. I wanted so desperately for her philosophy, her belief in how the universe worked, to be correct.

But I couldn’t feel her.

The only thing I could feel was the warm furbal named Beast rubbing up against my leg. I watched the cat for a moment. As I ran my fingers through his fur, he arched his back as he raised his eyes to me.

I’d never had this cat be so friendly to me. I’d never experienced anything other than claws and hissing. As I petted the animal who had always been my adversary, I suddenly felt at peace. When I sat up straight, and withdrew my hand, it hopped up onto my lap. I scratched its cheeks then stopped. He reached up with his paw and tapped me on my chin.

I chuckled. “Maybe you
are
a Buddha and not a Beast.” With its whole body, the cat rubbed against me, reminding me of a loving embrace. It was what I needed.

I sat there for an hour with that cat—the one who’d never liked me before. My mind was wonderful y quiet, my body stil . With closed eyes, I recognized the serene tranquility al around me, realizing that Olivia and Einstein were right.

Energy never ceased to exist. It only changed.

As I got up, and patted the orange cat who was now my friend one last time, I smiled as my mind connected al of the things I’d learned. People never died. Only their frail bodies. Olivia was with me. She’d be with me always. Maybe her energy was in the cat now. Maybe it was surrounding me completely, protecting me against the harshness of the world, or perhaps it existed somewhere within me.

I found my twin brother upstairs reading a comic book from the 1980s. The time alone in the bookstore, made me feel as though I final y understood the words both he and my Olivia spoke. I felt my feelings. I cried my tears. And when I was ready, I decided to carry on.

She would always be my first love. I might never experience anything like what I felt with her ever again, but I wouldn’t close myself off. I wouldn’t lock myself away forever in grief. It would be hard. Every day would bring a new chal enge, but knowing that she was stil with me, I could meet those chal enges.

My life wasn’t over. As I felt the love from and for my Olivia fil my heart, I knew that my life was just beginning.

The summer heat hadn’t let up, even as September got underway. I was starting my sophomore year at Northwestern University as a physics and astronomy major, working my way toward two minors—philosophy and history. I’d never liked science much, but now found it to be a perfect fit.

The beginning of the first year was a bit difficult. It was my first time living away from my childhood home in Lakeside and even though it was only a short drive home, the distance felt significant. It was also the first time I had been away from Aaron. He was al the way in North Carolina. We hadn’t planned it, but we settled into a habit of cal ing each other once a day. Sometimes there was nothing to talk about, but we didn’t need words to connect. Just knowing he was on the other end was enough.

I’d started off my freshman year alone. Delaney stil attended classes here, but I rarely saw her. While we’d been friends back in Lakeside as we re-shelved books at the Barnes & Noble, it didn’t translate to friendship on campus. We were acquaintances. We grabbed coffee a few times, but other than that, it was a wave here or there as we passed each other.

As the year went on, I made friends. Most of them were people in my program or bandmates. I was a member of the Wildcat Marching Band which was one of the best marching bands in the United States. I auditioned for al of the drums, and was told I could do any I wanted. Tenor drums offered more diversity than the others, so I chose that.

Freshman year was fil ed with practice and performances, parties and get-togethers. By November, I felt like I belonged.

I missed Olivia more than I missed anyone. I stil spoke to Casey from time to time, but I couldn’t talk to Olivia. Wel , that wasn’t true. I talked to her al the time. I was pretty sure she answered me. I just couldn’t see her.

I’d just finished practicing for our pep ral y that was coming up in a few days. Squatting down, I slipped off my drums and retied my shoe. I felt good from the movement. The sun was shining down on me. My decision to get out of bed this morning had been a good one.

It had been a chal enge today. I’d been up late, messing around online most of the night. When I’d awakened this morning, I felt empty. Olivia’s absence in my life hit me hard and I almost stayed in bed to wal ow in it.