Chapter Eight: Upaithric

Upaithric (adjective): having a roofless central space; open to the sky

SHE SKIPPED THROUGH THE halls the next day, fingers tracing the A hanging from her neck as she fought back a smile.

 

“Todd Trenton bought Crisa Grayson a gold necklace.”

“He’s so dreamy.”

“What a romantic!”

 

She resisted the urge to shake her head as she passed the gossiping girls swooning over what they believed was a grand romantic gesture. Addison knew how wrong they were. She hoped one day, Crisa would realize it too. Preferably soon.

 

***

 

When Addison walked into English class a few weeks later, she noticed that Crisa was not in her usual seat. Instead she had settled in the empty desk to the left of Addison’s. It was strange, and Addison was certain the entire class noticed as well. High school was set in routine, every little action governed by the hierarchy. When that rippled—like when the most popular girl sat next to the nerd with hardly any friends—it was something to acknowledge.

She swallowed as she approached. Crisa’s usual reading materials were sitting on her desk, ready for class to start, no surprise there. But Addison keyed in on trivial things, like Crisa’s notebook remaining unopened. And her head hung as she stared glassy-eyed into her lap. Crisa didn’t bother to look at anyone. She didn’t even acknowledge Addison when she walked into the room.

“Hey, Crisa. How are you?”

The debilitated spirit lifted her gaze at her, and Addison saw the puffy, red rims of her eyes. Crisa looked exhausted. The radiant glow that normally surrounded her had disappeared.

“Crisa?” The drummer’s heart ceased to beat, aching for the friend slumped before her. “What’s wrong?”

Blue eyes darted to the back of Rylie’s head, and a tear fell from her cheek. She sniffed as she brushed the offending droplet with the back of her hand. Addison’s stomach coiled. Before she could ask any further, Mr. Jackson instructed the class to take their seats. Her questions would have to wait.

Addison spent the first half of the period watching for even the slightest sign. Anything that would hint as to what transpired between the two popular girls. Crisa didn’t text, not even once. She didn’t pick up her pen to doodle in the margins of her notebook. She didn’t even gaze out the window like she usually did. She just seemed—broken. Unable to stand the tension, Addison did something she’d never done before. She raised her hand. “Yes, Ms. Warren?” Mr. Jackson’s forehead creased, the chalk frozen in his hand. “Do you have a question about the lesson?”

She shook her head, standing from her seat. “No, I just feel really sick.” She clutched at her stomach. “And dizzy.” She wobbled and stumbled over her feet. At that, Crisa snapped back to reality and shot out a hand to steady her. Addison welcomed the warmth of her touch.

Mr. Jackson looked over her once with a pensive stare. “Ms. Grayson, will you escort Ms. Warren to the nurse’s office?” Crisa gave an empty nod, gathering their belongings.

Once down the hall, Addison dropped the act and slipped her hand into Crisa’s. She pulled her into the nearest bathroom, squatting to check the stalls. When she was sure they were alone, she locked the door behind her.

Crisa fastened her arms around her frame, shoulders tense and entire body guarded. She looked so tiny; the opposite of the school’s grand legend. But really, Addison knew, she was just a girl. A shattered girl. Maybe that was why it was so heartbreaking.

Addison coaxed Crisa closer. “Talk to me.” It took a moment for Crisa to place her hands in Addison’s. Addison waited for Crisa to gather her thoughts.

“Todd.” Her voice was hollow, as if the tainted name had been the first thing she’d said all day. It probably was.

“He tried to have sex with me,” she choked out.

Now, Addison did feel sick. She wasn’t stupid. She’d heard the rumors that spun the tales about Crisa Grayson, who was far from a virgin and known to sleep around. Addison had never asked or brought up the topic. She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want knowledge of what the truth could be to tarnish her views of the golden, happy, smiling girl.

“Rylie told me he tried to get with her right after I told him I wasn’t ready,” she continued with obvious reluctance.

“You weren’t ‘ready’ as in…?” Addison’s palms were starting to sweat as Crisa continued to toe at the tiles on the bathroom floor.

“I don’t want to.” Crisa swallowed. “Not with him.”

Addison’s heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. She wondered if it was loud enough for Crisa to hear too. There were so many things she could say, could ask, could confess, but all she managed was “Oh.”

“I’m a virgin,” Crisa admitted before her expression crumbled, “I know nobody thinks so, but I am.”

Addison fixed her fingers even tighter around Crisa’s. “It’s none of their business. If it didn’t feel right, he’s a jerk for trying to pressure you.” Internally, she gave herself a pat on the back for sounding so calm. ‘Jerk’ was the last thing she wanted to call him.

Crisa expended a heavy sigh, pulling her hands away to run them through her blonde curls. The conflict written on her face was irrefutable. “I don’t even know who I’m more pissed at.”

“Did Rylie and Todd…” Addison’s stomach twisted as she alluded to the possibility.

Crisa shrugged. “She said they didn’t, but I’m not stupid. I know he checks out other girls.”

Addison debated whether to divulge the details of what transpired between herself and Rylie at the bowling alley, but ultimately decided it would only cause Crisa more pain. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“They’ve been best friends since they were kids,” Crisa revealed. “We met through her, actually. Then I got in the way. And like…I get it. Some people just fall in love with their best friend.”

The last sentence ghosted across the bathroom tiles, evaporating in the air. But Addison heard it louder than the entire brass section during a fortissimo.

“It’s gonna be okay.” The drummer’s nerves caused the words to falter as they fell from her lips. “There are tons of other fish in the sea. I know plenty of guys out there that would love to date you.” Her heart cried out as she uttered the pronoun. She willed it to be silent.

There was another pause, before Crisa threw her head back, barking out a bitter scoff. “Yeah, you mean plenty of guys who’d love to screw me.”

Addison’s insides strained. It was heart-wrenching. “You deserve to be cherished.”

The muscles in Crisa’s back tensed. “If it were you, I know you’d treat me right.”

Addison’s brain started short-circuiting, cheeks set ablaze. Were we always standing this close?

The dismissal bell clanged and the two jumped apart, now hyperaware of what they had just been doing and where they were.

“We should get back.” Crisa turned on her heels, clearing her throat as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Addie?” Crisa was biting her lip, hand still gripping the doorknob. “Come over tonight?”

 

***

 

“Crisa Grayson just dumped Todd Trenton.”

“I thought Todd dumped her.”

“His loss.”

“Her loss.”

“Maybe I should offer my services, if you know what I mean?”

“Only if I get to her for round two.”

“Deal.”

 

Addison slammed her locker with such brutal force the boys glanced over at her. Their heads tilted in confusion, but Addison was already storming towards the exit.

 

***

 

That afternoon was uncharacteristically warm. The tell-tale signs of spring peeked out as the sun began to pour soft pinks and oranges over the skyline. When they arrived at Crisa’s guest house, Addison unlaced her shoes while Crisa kicked hers into the pile. Addison traded her plaid shirt and jeans for one of Crisa’s hoodies and sweatpants. She loved the dizzying way the fabric enveloped her in the scent of raspberries.

“So, what’s the plan? A movie? Do you want to talk about it?”

Crisa shook her head. She pulled a spare blanket from the top shelf of her closet and motioned for Addison to follow. At the window, Crisa lifted the latch before pressing against the screen. It released with a light snap, and she jiggled until it crashed onto the bedroom floor. She gave a triumphant grin, hoisting herself over the ledge. Once over, she crouched down and offered a hand to a gob smacked Addison.

“I can’t.” Addison glanced at the ground below, stomach plummeting.

“It’s totally safe,” Crisa promised, jumping up and down for good measure. Addison’s heart practically flew out of her chest.

“Okay! Okay! Just stop jumping.” She panicked. Crisa ceased, stepping back to allow Addison to maneuver over the window’s ledge. Her blunt nails clung into the siding of the house as she inched forward.

Crisa chuckled, reaching out a hand for support. “Afraid of falling?”

“Something like that,” She grasped tighter onto Crisa’s forearm as she staggered her steps.

“Just a little more. Okay. Here’s good.” Crisa plopped down atop the plush blanket, patting the place next to her.

Addison hesitated, taking her time to bend her rigid knees. Now that she was more “grounded,” for lack of a better term, her eyes panned over the landscape. She scanned the horizon, concluding at the most breathtaking part. The striking profile of Crisa's features made her insides itch with that feeling. Glowing pastel lights or not, Crisa Grayson was beautiful.

Crisa rested her head on Addison’s shoulder. The calming sounds of the approaching spring chirped around them. She could hear Crisa thinking above it all, but she couldn’t quite make out the words yet.

“It never would have worked out anyway.” Crisa finally sighed, placing an open palm in Addison’s lap. Addison threaded their fingers together with a squeeze. She couldn’t help but quietly agree. Crisa never glowed when she was with Todd.

“We never connected on that level, you know?” Crisa tilted her head, gaze locking on earthy green. Addison swallowed under her stare. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Addison’s focus fell upon Crisa’s pink lips.

“No one really gets me like you do, Addie,” Crisa whispered.

Addison could do it. She could dip her head down and capture Crisa’s lips with her own. But she couldn’t. Her best friend was hurting. And it wouldn’t be right, even if it was getting more difficult to resist her feelings for Crisa. It wouldn’t be fair. To either of them. She tried to shove down her own emotions. "That person will come one day.”

It felt like years for Crisa to respond. “What if they already have? What if I missed my chance?”

The tension soared until…

“Girls, dinner.” Denise’s irritated voice startled them.

The doctor was standing in the yard, hands on her hips, unfazed by the fact that her daughter and her friend were lounging on the roof. The two broke apart and Addison followed Crisa over to the window before they made their way to the illustrious mansion. They avoided talking about it.

 

***

 

Addison woke the next morning to find Crisa at her desk, pen in hand.

“What’re you writing?” she rubbed at her eyes before searching the nightstand for her glasses. Once they were situated on her nose, she sat up, reaching her arms overhead with a stretch. A small moan escaped, and for a moment, Crisa tensed.

“Crisa?”

“Uhh” Crisa chewed on the end of the pen cap. “I’m writing a story, actually.”

“What’s it about? Can I read it?” She grinned knowing Crisa was doing something she loved instead of thinking about her horrid ex. It was as if the entire existence of their high school lives had fallen off the roof that night.

“Maybe when it ends…hopefully not,” Crisa muttered.

Addison furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Crisa shook her head, shutting the notebook and tucking it into the drawer. “Never mind. You hungry?”

Addison could only nod. And again, they avoided talking about it.