CHAPETR THIRTEEN
The hall at Wardruff High seemed vast and deserted as most of the kids hurried away the day before summer break. Most everyone had already packed up their lockers for the season, a handful of lingering students still collecting papers and books.
Val was one of those still present, her legs shaking with dread as she moved towards the row of metal lockers. In her hand was the folded slip of paper she had labored over for hours.
The locker beside the water fountain was wide open, a golden haired boy sorting its items into a cardboard box. Something in his manner was forlorn for a kid about to receive three months of academic freedom.
Val paused. As her thoughts echoed a series of lines in the letter she held.
“…if you truly care–and I think you do–please, don’t let this be a thorn between us. Don’t even mention it, not even if we’re alone. I trust you do this, so we can start fresh ... when I'm ready, when the time is right, you'll know how I feel about you.”
“This is yours,” she said, extending the piece of paper before her. He turned around at the sound of her voice.
His eyes glanced into hers as he took hold of it.
“She said ‘no’ didn’t she?” There was a note of sadness in his voice.
Val’s heart raced with the one question she was hoping more than anything to avoid.
“Not exactly,” she said. “She likes you. She just...can't tell you about it. Not yet.”
He shoved it into his pocket. His arms collected the cardboard box of random items as he swung the locker door closed. “Bye Valarie,” he said. "See you later."
His back to her, he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes as she watched him walk away.
*****
Val hesitated beneath the canopy of lanterns. The flood of light illuminated the hotel’s ornamental pond, as well as the figure at the end of the dock. His shoulders were slumped in a rejected look as he gazed over the rail at the water below.
Her step was quiet on the grass, but somehow he sensed her presence. Turning around with a hopeful look that told her he wanted someone to be there.
Who, she didn’t have to guess. His anticipation faded to a wry smile.
“Hey,” he said. “Seemed like a nice time for a walk.” His voice cracked with these words.
The joke fell flat, but she smiled anyway. “It’s beautiful out here,” she said, nodding towards the blanket of water. “Very peaceful.”
“Yeah.” He cast a glance in the pond’s direction. “I pictured Heather and me slipping out here for some quiet time this week. Maybe a secret midnight meeting the night before the wedding. Stupid, I know.”
She shook her head. “It’s a romantic thought. I'm sure she'd love it.”
“Think so? Lately it seems like she’s offended by everything I do. ”
A cynical laugh followed this, fingers rumpling his hair again. “She’s right you know–I’m hopeless. I took a simple childhood crush and turned it into the romance of the century. Like I didn't even see the next part of the story.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feeling deeply,” she argued. “As long as it’s real and not just wishful thinking.”
“I’ve never believed anything more in my life," he answered. There was a note of passion in his voice. "Me and Heather are meant to be together. When I read those words it was…how can put this? It was like I never knew anything about love before. It was like I had a promise I could hold onto. There was something special in her smiles from then on. Sure, I dated other girls in high school and afterwards –but her words were always in the back of mind.”
“It meant that much to you?” She was stunned, a tremor stealing through her.
“She became the love my life,” he said softly. “Too bad I didn’t become hers.”
Val’s heart ached with sympathy. She drifted to the rail, her fingers gripping it for support. Now was the time to reveal what she knew, to finish the story of the note in its entirety.
“Jason, this is all my fault.” She paused, feeling his eyes study her from mere feet away. “I should have told you years ago, but I didn’t want to lose your friendship.”
This wasn’t making sense, she knew. Her heart pounded as if to leave her chest, her eyes seeking his own with these words. “I’ll understand if you hate me.”
“What is this about, Val?” He was close enough that she could see his features easily in the lantern’s glow. Confusion lined his brow as he awaited the explanation.
“That note–the one you gave to Heather. She didn’t answer it. She never even read it.” Val’s gaze dropped to the dock below. "I did.”
There was silence; she could feel his shock as she continued speaking.
“Heather never even knew about it. See, I knew she would turn it down and that you would be hurt. You wouldn't be friends anymore with–with either of us. So I wrote back in her place.”
“You wrote it.” He said it slowly, as if trying to understand.
“It was wrong of me, I know, but you deserved an answer as genuine as your own words. And I wanted you to have an answer that meant you would forgive her and wouldn't be mad.”
She paused, heart hammering as she recalled the familiar opening:
“You probably think of me as just a friend, and I guess I’m lucky to even be that. But with someone as great as you, I can’t help hoping for something more…”
Embarrassment seeped into her thoughts. She fully expected him to walk away at this point; or to laugh at her. What a betrayal this must seem like, a stupid confession after all these years and after listening to him describe it for days in glowing terms.
Something brushed her face. His fingers, gently moving the strands of auburn as he searched her gaze. “It was you,” he murmured. “All along. All those years and the whole time–”
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just cared about you. I didn't want to lose you as a friend, so I made it up."
He cradled her face. Gazing into her face as she felt herself melt beneath those blue eyes once again. He hesitated, then his mouth found hers in a soft kiss.
A sensation she had dreamed about countless times in her youth–and a few times this week–never knowing how to imagine it. Only, she never expected it to be like this. A numbness where there should have been warmth, the taste of disappointment in his touch that was palpable to her senses.
There was no spark, no rush of warmth. No urge to pull him closer as there had been that moment on the dance floor with someone else.
Her eyes fluttered open as she drew away, her gaze angled towards the glass windows of the ballroom. Where a figure stood watching, hands stuffed awkwardly in their pockets.
Riley. She blinked back her tears as the figure turned and disappeared from sight.
What was wrong with her? Her feelings crumbling, her world tumbling into confusion. She shouldn't be kissing Jason; and she shouldn’t be thinking about Riley during it at all. Everything was turning out wrong, as if her reactions were upside-down.
Before her, Jason's breath stirred her hair. He was facing her, gazing into her eyes as his fingers gently brushed her mouth.
“No,” she whispered, stepping away. Tears burned her eyes, regret washing over her. “This isn't right,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and hurried away. Escaping before he could see the tears stream down her face.