Ache for You (Trapped in Three Hill Book 1) Page 3

  I pretend that this isn’t real. I pretend that I’m asleep, or just plain freaking out. This cannot be real and yet it is—quite painfully so.

  Three Hill is more than a one horse town. I watch men strolling around in business suits, holding briefcases baring gold plated initials.

  A lot of people use these walking trails.

  I never noticed before now, I turn around. The suits the men are wearing are deep brown, totally crisp and professional.

  “Geffen’s knows his time is limited when it comes to this case file. It won’t take long and I wouldn’t be surprised if by the end of the week we have him blown out,” says suit number one. Suit number two chuckles and the two men continue on their way.

  I close in on the first of the tall trees now, shading a large building meant to serve as a washroom and change room for those venturing out onto the lake itself. I look around: no one is in a swimsuit.

  People are sitting on picnic tables, wearing dark jeans and all the layers needed to keep a warm-blooded person from getting cold.

  I walk further away, secluding myself. I reach my hand out to grace a low-hanging tree branch but I can’t feel it, even if I touch it. My fingers just touch oxygen being sucked in the opposite direction. I keep trying but I’m never quite tall enough to reach it.

  I push my green hair back; the wind moves it annoyingly against my skin. How can I still feel that?

  I don’t understand.

  It makes no sense.

  I turn back to look my best friend, the former reason for my existence.

  I truly believed that. Mal is the only person who has ever made me regret being such a bitch. He’s still on the ground, the only difference is now he has once again been completely abandoned.

  “You can’t hear me and you’re not supposed to know that I can hear you.” I mumble, moving nice and slow. I drag my ankles. I want to make as much noise as bloody possible. These flip-flops are so uncomfortable.

  I speak to Mal. “I can feel your laughter and your smile, even though I don’t see any trace of it now. You are a ghost. I can feel you touching my waist and waiting for me to turn around. You were always right behind me, no matter where we were or what we had gotten up to, at school, at the mall. You were always there when I turned around. You had an intoxicating presence about you that I crave now. Even when we were fighting, I was laughing, I’m laughing now. How is that possible? How do you make me so happy and so bloody miserable?”

  I’m empty without you.

  “I don’t know how I got here to tell you the truth. I just kind of wonder around aimlessly now.”

  I am bored as all hell.

  I kneel down beside you.

  “I’ve been following you since the news broke; I have nowhere else to go. I can feel that stupid coat you left in your Chevy™ and I can smell your precious smell: man and engine oil. I don’t know why you always smell like engine oil. I’ve never been able to figure that out. Is it your cologne?” I laugh out loud. The boy doesn’t move.

  “You have never been the best car guy in the world, but you were a great pal, weren’t you? I’m supposed to gone now. I am gone now. I am dead. I am cold. I should allow myself to be only a memory, fading into the snow that is sure to fall soon, and not a ghost haunting you, stalking you and watching you. You’ve fooled yourself into believing that you are invisible somehow. You have never been invisible. Do you not see the way every female in town looks at you? You’re a God damn tree dude. Totally made of muscles”

  You are beautiful Mal.

  You glow.

  My voice breaks, I wish I could yell. “I said I’m sorry didn’t I? For what went down. I said it in my head not out loud. There’s hardly any point in me speaking now, you couldn’t hear me anyhow. I’m a whisper, a ghost. I don’t matter at all. I’m sorry for letting go. I regretted jumping before I even hit the ground. I wasn’t going to hit the clouds. I know that sounds beyond stupid now, but jumping off of Buffalo falls was no easy feat you know? It took lady balls.”

  I breathe in and out. My words tremble “God, I am such a tool. I should have just got back into my car, called you and talked it out. But instead I had to take the scenic route through all that life-altering bullshit that morons like to spew. I had a choice. I chose not to feel because my feels had gotten overwhelmed.”

  I just couldn’t control myself. Not around anybody else and especially not around you.

  “I wanted to kiss you and hit you, and I wasn’t allowed to do either and both would have introduced me to your girlfriend’s new shoes.”

  “I can’t even remember her name right now. She is not what or who I dream about. I did not kill myself because of you.”

  Don’t even go down that route.

  I won’t let you.

  “I was seriously ill, okay, Mal? Sick straight down to the bone. My insides were flipped inside out. I didn’t just jump off a cliff so that I could stop thinking about you, I mean yeah I was pretty much down for anything that would stop me from missing you. I wanted to stop loving you.”

  I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to smile. I wanted to be able to breathe in and out without a weight crushing me down, holding me underwater. I was afraid to drown.

  I killed myself because I didn’t know how to talk my feelings out.

  I felt like I was going crazy, with anger taking control of me and filling my body with rage. I didn’t know that there was no undo button on mistakes this size.

  The damage that I did to myself was not collateral, it was fatal. I’m sorry Mal. I am so sorry for leaving you and for not being woman enough just to talk to you and talk it through.

  I fucking miss you, too, and no, I cannot just come back now. It doesn’t work that way Mal. Anyhow. What the hell are you wearing right now? Seriously? What the hell is wrong with you? I can almost smell the man-stank coming off of you.

  Would a shower kill you?

  Ha, too soon?

  Sorry, not sorry.

  Whoa boy. Settle down. No need to kick my headstone! That’s is some pricey marble you just scuffed up with your stupid sandals. You better be going back to school tomorrow! Hello? Mal?

  Where are you going now?

  Mal?

  Fuck You Flo-Mal

  I get up and kick some of the soft grass around. My body has made an indentation in the ground; I am my own angel.

  I turn my back on your headstone.

  I hate this god damn peace garden more that you will ever know. Why couldn’t they just bury you in a normal graveyard? Huh?

  Too boring for you Flo?

  Ha, sorry girl. You know how much I like to bug you. If you can hear me right now, why not shoot me a sign? Fill up my gas tank or make my doors unlock all on their own. Do something useful.

  Come on my Pretty Girl. Let me know that I still have you. I can’t live without you.

  I have my hands in my pockets and my head angled down when I hear a voice breaking into my world of dark and depressing shadows.

  “Hey, Mal!” Some egghead shouts. I look up more out of boredom that anything else. Another dude is waving me down.

  One earbud is hanging out.

  Why can’t people just leave me alone?

  I didn’t realize that people still used these running trails—the park yes, but the trails? Hell no, at least that’s what I would have assumed (the girls in yoga pants don’t count) but when I finally pull my head out of my ass long enough to look around. I notice that I was never really alone.

  Not even a little bit.

  Not even at all.

  God, you should see River what’s-his-nuts right now. Dude totally blew his hair out. It’s fluffy and gold. He’s tall but hardly built. Blindingly pale arms stick out under a blue t-shirt emblazoned with some sort of hipster band logo.

  Normally I would laugh and tease you, Flo. I’d suggest that perhaps he got prettied up just for you. Guys always tried to go out with you, but I put a quick notice on every dick in town. Touching of my best f
riend Flo was simply not allowed. Did you know? God I so badly want to tease you. See the anger in your eyes. They lit up every time I bugged you.

  I can’t do that now. Fuck you.

  “Hey, Mal. How are you?”

  “I’m great. How are you?”

  “Good. Look man,” River continued, “I’m sorry about Flo. I know that sounds lame as all hell right now, but I just wanted to check in on you. I went to your mom’s house. You weren’t home, and she said she hadn't seen you in a while, like since the funeral? Asked me if you were cool.”

  River means well. I know. He has pretty blue eyes, the kind that you were always crazy about. I hated that about you, your tendency to fall for morons who would only hurt you.

  You called River a douche canoe right before you left town. We were talking about something random, something completely unrelated to the dude that I am currently talking to. We were eating Chinese take-out and God I hated that smell. We were sitting in your car: The Old beater. The front seats were stained with I don’t even want to know, but everything smelled just like you, your vanilla body oil, your discount perfume and that colour-preserving shampoo you stocked up on your bathroom shelf. It smelled like mangoes. Suffice to say, you had an odd smell.

  We were parked in front of the mall. Listening to the radio, you knew all the words to every song on the top 40 countdown. I was amused by you. This memory means nothing to me without you here to feel it as well. It just spoils my mood.

  I haven’t smiled since you. Why start now?

  “Mal?” River looks at me with a puppy dog eyes and sad, thin mouth. He’s making the oddest expression right now, trying to draw me back into the real world.

  I resist the urge to laugh out loud. The only person who could draw me back was you. This dude doesn’t have a hope in hell.

  “Yeah, sorry dude,” I say, but I’m not sorry at all. “Yeah, I’m totally cool. Just you know, chilling out.” I’m trying not to blame myself for my best friend in the entire world thinking that she needed to take the easy way out. “I’ve just been busy a lot, you know with school and what have you.” I haven’t been busy with school at all. I have all but dropped out.

  The only reason I haven’t made it official is because I need my student-housing-only townhouse.

  It’s small, but I paid the rent off with what was left of my student loan. I have nowhere else to go. I refuse to go home, no way in hell.

  River believes my words at face value. As do most people.

  “If you’re not busy tonight a few of us guys are going out. We might hit up that new strippers they just opened downtown. I guess the whole inside is totally tricked out.” River seems hopeful.

  He’s trying to make things between us cool by including me in his Tuesday night ritual of throwing change around. In all honesty, I wouldn’t even include myself. I’m fucking miserable to be around. I open my mouth to offer a refusal, but nothing falls out.

  I’m too exhausted to even groan or grumble.

  I haven’t slept since God knows when. It’s not like I can’t sleep without you; it’s just every time I close my eyes I see your face in my mind. I’m far past that point of grieving every memory. I just see random memories and for a moment they make me happy. Silent moments of your time when for a good five minutes you were mine. Totally mine. Happiness flickers in my mind.

  My chest is filled with a longing that won’t fade. It aches and missing you comes in bone crushing waves. I spiral into misery and my next words come out acidic and burning.

  “Why in the hell would I want to go to the strippers with a bunch of dudes? Most of whom I don’t know,” I smirk. Speaking super smooth. Cocky as all hell. You always liked that about me, Flo. I totally knew.

  Don’t go getting embarrassed now Pretty Girl.

  River’s face shrinks down a good size or two as he, like, totally cowers in on himself. Did he think that I was cool? Like cool with being spoken to and tracked down? Especially now? How is that even possible?

  “I’m sorry bro-”

  “No. I’m not your bro. No fucking way in hell. I’m an asshole you only spoke to because I was friends with a girl everyone knew. If anything I’m saying is wrong, go ahead, stop me now.”

  I dare River to back completely down.

  He gulps.

  I have an arm resting on the windshield of my sky blue Camaro™. I look around the park. The quiet sanctuary you now call your home. There are lots more women walking and jogging around that I didn’t really see until just now, adding to the few I noticed when I first parked my car and got out. I wipe leftover tears away from my nose. Snot has dripped onto my lips, and I wipe at my mouth with the back of my knuckles.

  I didn’t even realize that I could still cry over you.

  I’m surprised that the tears would even come out. I thought I had rung all the emotion out of my eyeballs by now. Oh well.

  “You trusted me because of Flo. You stopped being afraid of me because of Flo, as did everyone else in this God forsaken town. Well guess what? She’s gone now.” I let the poor bastard know. I don’t even have to try to insert death into my tone. It is all that I’m made of now.

  I’m cold. I miss you.

  Flo?

  River backs up with his hands out.

  I smirk.

  He looks down.

  “Like I said, dude, I’m sorry about what happened to Flo but I didn’t stop being afraid of you just because you guys got close. I stopped being afraid of you because you stopped threatening to break my nose.” This is true. “Anyhow, your mom was just worried about you.”

  Was she now? Couldn’t take the time to call me herself?

  River looks down at the ground, seeming to swallow something he doesn’t want to be let out. He holds his arms out like a sparrow.

  “See you around Mal,” says the douche. I swallow the bitterness down. “Yeah, you too.” I hop into my 1968 Camaro™. A Chevy™ that is super tricked out. The roof is down and I’m cold as hell but I don’t care to pull it up right now. Fuck I wish that the passenger seat still smelled like you Pretty Girl, and I know how creepy that sounds, but you know leather.

  Everything just washes out.

  It’s Not His Fault - Flo

  Okay, no I do not know anything about leather you douche canoe.

  Have you seen my car, Mal? That thing wouldn’t know real leather if it chewed on the bumper while saying hello.

  Yeah, I know that doesn’t make any sense. Move right along will you? By the way, I’m in the backseat in case you didn’t know. I chuckle and snort laughter, but of course you don’t know. I’m fucking invisible. You can’t feel me at all. I sat in the middle where there isn’t a seat belt. Leaning forward so that I can watch your anger boil. I watch your knuckles turn white as you clench the steering wheel. The stereo is so loud.

  Music always was your way of maintaining control.

  “It’s not his fault you know?” I watched River slowly turning around, watching you with more kindness than pity. He felt bad leaving you upset but I could tell that he had no idea of what else to do.

  “He was just trying to help.”

  As are most people.

  “He’s a good guy, shy and a little odd every once in a while but still kind when it counts. I also never thought he was into me just so you know. That’s not the kind of guy I attracted when I had a pulse, but still. It’s not his fault. It’s not anyone’s fault aside from my own. I’m not going to blame you. I won’t. That’s not even in the realm of being possible.”

  No way in hell. I look out the back window when Mal turns around to reverse because I can’t stand the thought of him looking right through me like I am not even here at all, which I’m not, but being reminded about it constantly still hurts like a bitch. I swallow. Mal parked his car between the lines for the first time since forever. He usually parks crooked. Like an asshole. God forbid anyone ding his vagina bait on wheels.

  The minivan next to him is loaded with little girls in
tutus. They all jump out without a care in the world. I could have sworn that one of the little girls made actual eye contact with me but my imagination always did have a tendency to run wild. Oh, well.

  “We should stop for food, I’m actually starving. That’s the funny thing about being dead. You stop feeling human and start feeling like some sort of alien but your stomach doesn’t quite get it.”

  I rest my arms across my abdomen, sitting back. Mal pulls up to the exit of the parking lot and signals left, eyeing the right-hand side of the exit for any oncoming traffic. My stomach feels flat, as if nothing works inside of it. My organs have failed me by now I know.

  I actually miss getting my period. How sad is that? I miss cramps. I miss the having a reason or an excuse for being a sudden and or constant pain in the ass.

  “I doubt that you miss my PMS,” I laugh, looking towards the back of Mal’s head.

  I want to reach out and touch him, but I resist. If he pulled away from my hand I wouldn’t be able to stand it if he sank back into it I would be beyond ecstatic—if that level of emotion even exists once you’re dead. I kind of doubt it. “Close the window man, you’re going to get sick,” I nag him.

  His arms are full of delicious definition. His muscles twist and bend with the fury that rages inside of him. I’ve only ever once had the gift of seeing him shirtless. I try to bring up the image, but the memory is faded. I want it back again. I have always been jealous of his natural tan. His green eyes vibrant against his darker, golden flesh. Even when he’s sad, he stops my dead heart in its tracks.

  Mal is gorgeous. He always has been. It seems effortless for him.

  He’s so tense. I ache with how much I miss him. It makes me ashamed, makes me feel like an idiot. I hate being pathetic. I wish that I had super powers right now, something besides the ability to watch over you. I want to protect you. I want to pull my knees up against my nose and draw on one of the back windows.

  I try to make a sound.

  I want to yell.

  I feel smothered right now. I look down at my black skinny jeans and pick at the ragged holes, revealing flesh bruised over bone.