The Other Side(15)
It’s obvious she doesn’t expect me to respond when she continues and recites my question back to me with a teasing smile. “What are you doing outside? It’s freezing.”
“Talking to you,” I answer to avoid the truth.
But if there’s one thing Alice is, it’s direct. “And avoiding the fight?”
Occasional loud bursts can still be heard from inside, one story up, so I give in to honesty. “Yeah, that too.”
“Is it your dad, Johnny?” she asks gently.
It doesn’t sound nosy. I get the feeling it’s how she gathers information since she can’t see.
“Johnny isn’t my dad.” I realize how vague my answer is after it’s out. She knows nothing about me. Nothing about anyone in this big old house, except her knife-wielding, ninja boyfriend. “We aren’t related, I just rent a room from him,” I clarify.
“Who’s he fighting with?”
“Cliff.” One word won’t be enough for her; I know there will be another question, so after taking a bite of pizza, I continue, “His nephew. He took him in a little over a year ago when Cliff’s dad went to jail.”
“Oh.” The news saddens her, I can hear it. She feels sorry for him even though she’s never met him. “Where’s Cliff’s mom?”
“She died when he was nine or ten.” I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation this long. Or this private.
“Oh.” Another compassionate, quiet response. She slides her gloved hands in the pockets of her puffy, cobalt blue coat.
She remains quiet for a few minutes while I finish my pizza, and my butt goes numb from the cold metal rung I’m sitting on. My right hand is numb now too, but I welcome the damper on the pain.
“Are the stars out, Toby? Is it a clear night?” Her head is tipped back, eyes closed, a slight smile smudges her rosy lips and cheeks, and moonlight bathes her.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so gorgeous in my life. She’s the picture of serenity, aglow. Her hair is brushing the backs of her thighs as it sways in the light breeze.
I don’t know if the stars are out. I don’t know if it’s clear. But the way she looks, I know she wants to imagine there’s a sky filled with a million stars overhead, so I lie, and it feels like truth: “Not a cloud in the sky. They’re all out.”
Her cheeks round out slowly and her teeth are revealed, bright white in the moonlight. She’s a contrast in shadows. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” she asks.
I haven’t looked up at the sky. I haven’t taken my eyes off of her, but I don’t lie this time. “Yes.” Breathtaking.
We stay like this—her looking up, me looking down—both appreciating. I’ve never stared at someone like this, for this long, and when it starts to feel wrong, like I’m invading her privacy, I stop.
Like she knows there’s a shift, she asks, “What makes you happy, Toby?”
Nothing. The severely depressed and happiness don’t cross paths. “Um…I don’t know.” I could’ve lied; it’s what I would’ve done with anyone else. I could’ve said comics or drawing or music, but those things don’t make me happy, they prop me. They prolong me. They keep me alive. For now.
She tips her chin back down, and the moonlight glow on her skin disappears, but her smile remains. “What do you mean you don’t know? Something has to make you happy.”
You shouldn’t make assumptions about me, I want to say, but instead I ask, “What makes you happy?”
“Evasion—” She takes a step toward me and I instinctively put my hand out like she’s too close to the railing and needs protecting. Which is stupid because she navigates well on her own, and even if she collided with the railing there’s no way she would fall over it. As if choreographed, I retract my hand at the same time she reaches for the railing, and I avoid an embarrassing collision by mere dumb luck. Taking one more step into what is now my personal space, she stops with her shins resting against the bottom rung, my heels resting on the second, my frozen butt on the third. This close we’re almost eye-to-eye, she’s taller than I remember. When she stills, she finishes her sentence, “—isn’t an answer, Toby. I’ll let it slide for now, but know there will come a time when I ask you that question again in the future and I expect an answer.” Her smile is teasing but somehow, I know she means it, and then she tilts her head like she’s thinking through her answer. “The endless possibility in a starry sky; ‘Close To Me’ by The Cure at deafening volume; swimming in an outdoor pool alone when the water inside is warmer than the air outside; the way white-hot sunshine on a blazing summer day can make you feel alive; the unapologetic chill of piano keys and the cooperative submission of guitar strings; lyrics and notes in my head willing and anxious to become anything I want them to be; meeting someone and not having to put effort into becoming friends because it’s a given that we already are, like destiny already sorted us ahead of time.” She pauses and a breathy laugh escapes. “I’m going to shut up now, I could go on all night.”
I’m staring at her again and I wish she would go on because in this moment I never want Alice to lose this. I don’t want her to be Say goodbye to hope Alice. I want her to be Never lose hope Alice.