EIGHT

Things  started out  okay. They  talked about  different kinds of things. Then when they decided  to head home,  things went  wrong.  They  both were standing  by the  door, then Steph  looked at him,  and suddenly  she felt the urge to do something. To satisfy the feeling which was stirring inside her,  a feeling she was  just starting to realize was within her.

Her  heart  started  beating  fast, and she  was breathing  deeply. She  didn’t  know what kind of force was bringing their faces closer together. But obviously, it was only her who was  moving. Tim  was frozen stiff.  She was  about two  inches away  from his face. Then she stopped.  No attachments.  It was this  which was now echoing in her head. Tim still wasn’t moving. She stepped back, and Tim looked at her  with distant eyes.  She also saw the tinge of confusion, but mostly anger. He sharply turned around and left her there, standing  all alone. He  could feel her  eyes on his back, but he was too angry to care if he had hurt her feelings.

 

“No attachments.” Tim muttered, reminding himself of  what he didn’t  want.

If he did gain her affections, and he had  grown attached to her, it would be harder for him to leave,  to forget the  memories of his  brother that  always haunted  his dreams. This was the thing that pushed him on, the last straw, the good excuse to leave. But he needed  time; time  to get ready.  I leave in two  days.

 

Steph watched as Timothy walked away. What had she done? The phrase repeated over and over in her head, echoing into the depths of her mind. No attachments. Why?  Why  did  she  have  to  fall  in  love with  the  one  person  who did  not  want any relationship? She found herself countering the warning which he had warned her with.

She  was tempted to cry.  Let go and let everything out. But she knew he wouldn’t come back. He was  already too  far away to  hear her cries.  She knew  he was  angry. He would never speak to her again. She had ruined everything.

 

It was a  wonderful  Friday  morning  when Tim woke up. But the sunny skies and cheerful twitter of birds did  nothing to  lift up his  spirits. Not  that he wanted  them to be lifted. He didn’t care anymore. In forty-eight hours he would be gone. He started to dress. His crisp  blue polo shirt and straight black pants were already laid out. He ran his fingers through his hair. He  turned  and  his brother  was there.  Anthony was  wearing the  same sweater  he had  worn when  he died.  But there  were no  blood-stains,  and  nothing  was dribbling down his chin. He looked charming, which was made the female population fall for him.  But the  problem was  Tim looked  exactly like  him too, which  was a bad thing for  Tim,  for  he did  not like  any  of the  girls  back  home.  They  had  the  same  golden brown hair, sharp features, and smoky eyes. And Anthony was staring at him with those eyes, not  angrily, but  like he was  in sorrow.  He didn’t  say anything this time, not like the other encounters. He just shook his head slowly. Whatever his brother was telling him,  Tim  did  not  understand,  or  he  did  not  want  to  understand.  Then  he  heard  it. Anthony’s lips did not move, but he heard his voice whispering in his mind.

You can’t leave.

Tim  blinked,  and  his  brother  was  gone.  He  avoided  the  mirror  and  went downstairs.

Last night, when he arrived at home, his father did not shout, but called him to his study.  He  couldn’t  remember  what  his  father  had  said,  because  he  had  spent  the whole  discussion  blocking  out whatever  came out his father’s mouth. He could already tell his father was getting annoyed, but he didn’t care. They had eaten dinner quietly, and though  he had just eaten half  of Stephanie’s  sandwich  for lunch,  he didn’t feel hungry. Now, he felt the same way; tired, angry, alone, not hungry.

He  heard his  father reading  the paper  in the kitchen. And as he descended down the steps, he saw his mother at the foot of the stairs. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she froze when she saw  him. She  opened her  mouth to say  something, but  whatever it was, came  out in a weak croak from  crying too much  last night. He jogged down the last few steps and breezed past his mother. He felt no pity for her now.  He knew  that was  a cruel thought, but she had failed to do what  she had to do.  And the times when he had thought that he didn’t want her to be near, when he didn’t want to talk about Anthony with her, he was  unknowingly  begging her  to do just the opposite. His intentions for what he wanted her  to  do  were  vague,  but  she did  no move  to even  give  any  comfort,  for  after  his brother’s  death.  She  had  spent  her days  locked up in  her room,  and when  she wasn’t there, she would be at work, distracting herself with errands.

He was already half a block away when the lump in  Mrs. Adams  throat subsided. And she knew she was too late, and there was  nothing she could do  now, but head to the kitchen and fix herself a cup of coffee.

 

Steph  saw Tim  walking towards  the school  gate. She  walked  over to  him,  her heart beating too fast. Their eyes met, and they both stood still a few feet away from each other. Tim planned to walk past her, but his feet were planted on the ground.

He was the first to say something. “You told me to give you a heads up.”

Steph’s eyes widened. He’s leaving… “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?”

He tried to brush past her, till he heard her whisper.

“You think it’s that easy?”

He turned. “What did you say?”

“Do you think it’s that easy,” she spat. “To forget?”

He kept  his voice low,  to keep his  temper from  flaring. “I told you I didn’t want any connections.”

“You  think  that’s  easy too?”  She  said.  Her voice  was  starting to rise  from her anger. “You know that our friendship is already a connection.”

“And that stunt you did yesterday was a gesture of friendship?”

Steph  turned  quiet. So  this  is  how it  ends?  She  opened  her  mouth  to  say something. Something  that would end  this fight,  make things  back to normal.  But her mind was blank, and he turned to walk away. He’s leaving…

 

They  hadn’t spoken  to each other  the whole day. Steph stole occasional glances, but not once had he even turned to look at her. Even at lunch,  she had seen him  eating at an empty  table, before  she headed  outside.  She didn’t  bother to  sit on  their bench, but instead  resumed  to sit  under her  tree. She  took out  her lunch,  but she  didn’t  feel like eating.  Everything,  every thought:  about her  father, about  her curse,  about her studies, was slipping away.  And the  only thought  she had  left, was about  him. Was he thinking about her? Of course he wasn’t. What she did was stupid. But at that time it seemed like a good idea.  But what she  did  was  right…  right? Because  to  her,  it  seemed  useless  to hide what you feel about someone, especially if that someone was planning to go away.

 

Tim  could see  Steph through  the  window  beside  his  table. He  started  to  feel guilty, because, one: she wasn’t eating, two: because he could seed her eyes were slightly swollen  from, he  guessed, crying, and three: because he had no right to be angry. He had no right because yesterday, he wanted to kiss her too. But she was ruining everything. He wanted to escape, but she was tying him down, and a part of him wanted to stay…

 

The school day had ended, and Steph  was at the library. She was at the librarian’s desk, borrowing some books.  And while the  librarian was  checking them,  Steph’s head turned to  the wooden doors of the entrance. And through the glass panes on the door, she saw  Tim pass  by,  and instantly  she felt a  sharp stab on  her stomach.  She gasped,  and clutched  her stomach.  The librarian  looked up and  said something,  but she  didn’t hear it, for  there was a  shrill ringing  in her ears, and  a deep sense  of dread in her gut. Half a minute  later  the  pain  ceased, and  she  stood up.  She took her  books  and  walked  out, sensing the librarians confused glare boring on her back.

 

It was a Saturday, and Tim’s bags were packed. His parents were out, and though he didn’t get much rest last night, he  had enough  determination  to push him  on with his journey. He  had everything  he needed, all the essentials: clothes, money. He would have to leave everything though,  every creation  he made,  everything  that really  counted. He wore  his backpack and had his gym bag in one hand. His other hand held his jacket slung over his shoulder.

His  parents were out to work.  Soon, they  would come  home and  find their  son missing.  They would  think he  would just  be out  with friends. But when he didn’t come back,  they  would  call  the  police and  there would  be missing  reports on the  news. He would have to lie low then, but after that, he would disappear forever.

He got  out of his  room, taking  one last  glance of it.  Not because he would miss his  small  private  place,  but because  it was where  all he had  ever created was in there. And  to give him  peace of mind  he would have  to leave them.  He went  down the stairs and out  the door,  locking it  as he stepped  outside. He  got on the  sidewalk  and walked down the road, not even glancing  back at what  he was  leaving behind  him. Don’t  think about the memories.  He reminded himself. Don’t relive it. Just leave it behind and forget them. And Stephanie… Steph… She would think of him cruel, leaving her behind without saying goodbye. But if  he did, it would  make things  more difficult  for both of them. He knew she  was strong.  Soon enough  she would go  on and act like he didn’t even exist in her life. And the very reason why he had to go was  his growing  affection  for her, which was  convincing him  to stay. And  if he did stay for her, whatever was stirring inside him would prevent him from ever leaving.

“Stop!” a voice shouted.

He  heard  running  footsteps  and  someone  embraced  him  from  behind,  arms wrapped around him. His arms were at his sides, so he couldn’t move. He froze.

“Don’t leave.” A weak teary voice said. Steph’s voice. “Don’t leave, Tim.”

The  arms  around  him squeezed  him tighter.  He  swallowed  hard and  his  eyes stung. He clenched his jaw. He wanted to.  He wanted to stay.  All because of her. All for her. Different kinds  of feelings  mixed inside  of him. His stony attitude wasn’t with him. She  had broken  through.  He didn’t  say anything,  because if he  did he knew  he would break down.

“I’m sorry, Tim.” She said. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Stephanie said again. “Please stay. Please?” she pleaded.

You can’t go. She thought. You can’t. Something bad is gonna happen to you and only I can stop it.

“I have to be with  you.” She  said. Something  weird started  stirring inside again. “I… I love you.” She whispered. “I love you. I do. Please.”

His tense body relaxed in her arms. He wriggled and she let him go. He didn’t say anything. He  just stood there,  looking at her.  Then, gently, he took her hand and led her back to the house. He led her up  the stairs and back  to his room. Her hand  tensed and he felt it. He  let go and took  out his pill bottle  and swallowed one  of  his  medications.  He dropped his bags and his jacket then dropped on the bed. She  neared the side and kneeled beside it. He took her hand and held it to his heart. It was beating too fast.

“I love you too.” She whispered.

His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

“Sleep.” She said.

 

When  Tim woke up,  it was dusk.  Steph was  still beside the bed. She was seated on a chair and she was leaning forward, her head resting on her arms which were crossed and  lay on the  bed. She  was breathing  deeply and  her eyes  were closed.  He  stood  up beside  her then  leaned down.  He slipped his  arm under  her knees and pushed her torso backwards to rest on his other arm. He gently lifted her up and carefully lay her down on the bed. He couldn’t help but brush his fingers on her cheek. You’ve tied me down, Steph, but I guess all I really need right now... is you.

“I love you, Steph.” He whispered. “I’ll never leave you again. You’re all that matters to me  now.” He leaned  down and lightly  kissed her on  the forehead.  “I don’t know  how  I’ve  been  able  to endure my  life without  you.” He  sighed,  thankful  she couldn’t  hear him,  for he wouldn’t  have the  guts to say  that to her  face to face. “I love you. More than you could ever know” he whispered and quietly slipped out of the room.

 

Steph  heard the click of  the closing door. She opened her eyes; there was no one in the room.  Her heart  was beating  fast, his  words  were  echoing  in  her ears.  He  had roused her sleep when he lifted her up, and she thought  it embarrassing to wake up in his arms. And those things he said…  Did this  mean he was  staying?  Did she  really tie him down, ball and chain and all that? Did he really mean that much to her?

Then the  door suddenly opened, and Tim casually strode inside sipping a glass of water. He saw  her awake, and  he froze. Steph didn’t know how long they were staring at each  other,  but she  knew it was a  long time.  She could  feel the blush  creeping  up her cheeks.  He  casually  sat  down  at  the  side  of  the  bed.  She  opened  her mouth  to say something,  anything to lift  the heavy blanket of awkwardness in the atmosphere, but her mouth was dry and  her mind was blank. She cleared  her throat and Tim  handed over the glass of water. She  sat up and sipped  it delicately. What  now? She  thought.  They  were both silent, uneasiness surrounding them. Then he slowly reached for her hand and kissed it gently. I’m sorry I thought of leaving you…