Less Than Three

Chapter 23: Death Metal

The sun was still rising when I ran through my house to the desk. On the way, I tried telling myself that it might not be too late. My heart didn't believe me. Already, it was rounding up my blood, sending all of it in a crazy rush to my ears. I'd barely made it to the living room before the world around me started tuning out. I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing myself to stay aware.

By the time I heard the computer's welcome chime, I'd almost regained control of my body functions. All but my breath; I was still holding that. It took forever for the Zoolio website to load, another forever to access my blog.

No comments so far. Maybe it really wasn't too late. I let the stale air seep out of my lungs and drew in a fresh, clean breath before I jabbed at the keyboard.

DELETE. DELETE. DELETE.

The relief that poured through me then was so sweet, it made the stupid, stupid blog entry seem almost worth it. But that was before Craig's icon blinked.

craig: Summer?

me: Oh jeez. You scared me.

craig: Not as much as your blog scared me.

me: You read it?

craig: Yup.

me: What am I going to do?

Silence. Crap.

me: You still there?

craig: I'm not sure I'm the right person to ask.

What?

me: Craig, you're the ONLY person I trust enough to ask.

craig: You're sure about this thing?

me: No. Yes. I don't know.

craig: I have to go.

me: You can't leave me now. Not like this.

craig: I don't know what to tell you.

me: Please?

craig: How about this? Whenever I don't know what to do, my mom always says I should listen to my heart. Do that, and I'll be back soon to clean up the damage.

me: Pinky swear?

craig: Gotta go. Bye.

Sunday, June 22, 7:13 AM

Term of the Day: Inequitable -- unfair.

You know for sure that life is inequitable when you land yourself in a gigantic mess, and the one person you can usually count on to save your butt gets drug out of town - all in the same twelve hours.

On the bright side: with Craig on vacation, I probably wouldn't have to deal with Dave at all. I could pretend (at least on the outside) that nothing ever happened. By the time Craig came home, maybe everything would have blown over.

Or not. Craig's icon winked again and I hurried to open up another conversation. Maybe this time he'd have something more promising to say than 'listen to your heart'. Because we all knew how smart my heart was.

craig: Have you ever seen such a beautiful morning?

me: Thank God you're still there. I've been thinking about what you said.

craig: What I said about what?

me: Did you pack your brain already? That stuff you said about Dave.

craig: What, exactly, did I say about Dave?

me: Sheesh, Craig. You know. About listening to my <3.

craig: And your heart is saying ... ?

me: See? That's the problem. My heart is screaming fifty million things at once.

craig: Is it saying anything about us?

me: Us????

craig: nvrmnd.

me: uh. this isn't Craig ~~~ is it?

craig: Pay no attention to the man behind the screen.

me: Dave? Dave?! I HATE YOU.

I tried going back to bed and pulling the covers over my head. That didn't stop my heart from talking. I tried drowning it out with one of Brady's mix lists. MudBludDeth was screaming something about crushing souls when Dad pounded on my door.

"Hey!" he shouted. From the tone of his voice I guessed he'd been trying to get my attention for a while. "Your mom's making breakfast. Come out as soon as you're ready."

"Ready?"

"For church."

Oh sheesh.

I probably should have gone. With what I'd done the night before, I was certainly going to need God on my side. Instead, I pretended to be sick.

My dad wasn't falling for it but my mom ... She started out all worried-like but when she held the back of her hand to my forehead, one kind of concern seemed to leave her and another type took its place. She crinkled up her face and sighed before shooing me back to my bedroom.

There's nothing like skipping church to get you feeling guilty. Okay, not true. There is something that will get you feeling guilty even faster - but I was trying to delete that from my memory.

Once my family left the house, I switched Brady's music back on and turned it up even louder. No wussy emo crap for me. Incredibly though, even hardcore guys have a softer side. There I was, jumping to some good ole Breed of Hate, thinking maybe I could scream my way into forgetting, when the song ended and in its place came something quieter:

You were the first

To find the key.

You were the first

To unlock the heart of me.

Had this song always been in the mix? I stopped dancing and dropped onto my bed. I scanned the walls of my room. You could practically read the Summer/Brady saga there. The ticket stubs from our first date. The dried up daisies he'd stolen for me out of Mr. Pomeroy's yard. Pictures of us from, from lots of places, but the one that caught my eye was last year's semi-formal.

I'd never seen Brady in a suit before. And, even though his grandpa had to drive us to the restaurant and then to the dance and back, it had felt deliciously grown up to sit across a candle-lit table from my boyfriend, to dance with him slow and close under the twinkle lights in the high school cafeteria. It was all so easy that night. I could imagine myself in Brady's arms forever.

It was what I still wanted. Wasn't it?

<3