After Lost Love

I like coffee now. I didn’t like the way it made me feel before, abuzz, like I was somehow going to explode and drop dead simultaneously. But Karen introduced me to decaf, and this I can really get behind. Half bitter, half sweet, but without the unnecessary discomfort.

I put down my cup and replace it with my pen. It rests on my lip as my left hand fingers the metal spiral of my notebook, up and down, up and down. Blank paper is always such a challenge.

I want to write about lost love.

I start jotting down words before I can even think about them, from the point of view of a girl that I’m not but I feel like I know. She is beautiful, and her love is out of reach, and she is heartbroken.

She is heartbroken.

My mind slowly slips into numbness, thinking about heartbreak. I feel absolutely nothing before I start feeling absolutely everything. The memory stabs me in the chest. Zeke.

Gosh, I think about him more than I should. It’s December. It’s been months. I shouldn’t even care anymore. Do I care? Do I miss him? I honestly don’t even know; I just know that every time I think about him it hurts.

Everything about him was bold and loud. His long, curly, dark hair. His bright, dazzling green eyes. HIs larger-than-life smile. His friendly and caring personality. That was the biggest thing about him of all, his ability to care for people. The most beautiful thing about him, the thing that made him truly so amazing. Isn’t that the only reason I knew him at all? The only reason he ever talked to me and came into my life? Well, I guess I came into his. He saw I needed help and didn’t hesitate to take me in.

He loved me so well. He loved everyone so well. He loved Sophia so well. He loved the world so well.

Focus, Alanna. We’re writing about lost love, right?

Right.

“Hey,” says a voice. I jump and look up to see Kaysee walk in the break room. She sets down her bag and sits down at the table with me. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long, about thirty minutes. How’s your morning been?”

“Pretty good, and you?”

“Good,” I lie.

“Good,” Kaysee says. “Did you hear about the staff Christmas party we’re having?”

“What? No,” I say “What Christmas party?”

“”It’s gonna be here the Saturday before Christmas. It starts at nine and ends at midnight,” she says. “I’m excited. It gives me an excuse to wear a dress.”

“Yeah,” I say distantly. “That should be fun.”

“So you’re going?”

That jolts me awake. “Are you?” I ask to deflect the question.

“Yeah. Please tell me you are too?” she says.

Honestly, I don’t know. I love my job here at the library. It’s been my safe haven since… that happened. But this is good enough for me. Church and work are the most social life I need. Library employees invite me to parties all the time, but after everything that happened this fall, partying is the last thing I want to do.

“You can come to my house to get ready with me before,” Kaysee says timidly. “It’ll be fun.”

I look into the eyes of my angel best friend, my saving grace since the incident. Literally the one who got me off the streets since losing Zeke and consequently my home. An angel from God. She’s always there for me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, that sounds fun. I’ll come.”

A smile slowly spreads across Kaysee’s round, innocent face. “Thanks,” she says. “Awesome. It’s gonna be great.”

“Yeah,” I say in shock. I am absolutely crazy for saying I’ll go.

Kaysee and I had gone dress shopping for the occasion. I look in the mirror in the harsh yellow light of Kaysee’s bathroom and tug at the skirt. I really like this dress. It’s simple, black with lace sleeves. Honestly, it surprised me when I picked this one out. I didn’t know a color this dark could look good on me; I’ve never liked the way I look in dark clothes. But it makes everything about me pop: pale skin, green eyes, red hair.

“I think you should use this palette,” says Kaysee, handing me a set of silky brown eyeshadows.

I take it from her. Very pretty. I like it.

Kaysee pulls out a hair tool and starts to warm it up. As she puts on a warm lip gloss, I just stare at it with my eyeshadow brush suspended in the air.

“Is that a flat iron?” I ask.

“Yeah,” says Kaysee. “Why? Were you thinking you wanted straight hair?”

I look into the mirror at my crazy red curls, long, past my shoulders, huge, out of control. I’ve wanted straight hair for years. Of all the girls in my family, I’m the only one that inherited our father’s curls. Our abusive, neglectful father, who loved money more than any of us, who stopped pretending to care about anything when Mom died. I hate my curls. People always tell me they’re pretty, but I still hate them.

“Yeah,” I say. “I think I do.” I think I am utterly desperate for a change.

When Kaysee finishes her hair, she quickly pulls it back into Dutch braids. She brings a chair into the room and sits me down. This moment alone is worth going to the party. Kaysee gently combs through my hair with her fingers, and just talks and laughs with me as she straightens it. It’s the mot relaxing feeling in the world. It feels like heaven. It feels like home.

When she’s done, I look at myself and finally see why people call me pretty. Me but with straight hair feels so right. I feel new. I even look a little new. Which is pretty awesome.

“You look amazing,” Kaysee says. Her hands are on my shoulders, and I have to close my eyes to keep myself from crying for a second. I don’t know why I feel like I haven’t felt love like that in a long time. “Ready to go?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s do this!”

As we walk to Kaysee’s car, and as we drive to the library, I feel increasingly nauseous and wonder if I'll actually be able to make it through the night. The last time I went to anything close to a party was with Zeke.

I had a huge crush on Zeke after the summer when he spent every day at the pool I lifeguarded at. He was so sweet. He dedicated every spare moment to helping with charity. We maybe smiled at each other once or twice, before I made the reckless decision to run away from home. I wasn’t loved there. I wanted to find Zeke and see if… maybe I was loved there.

I was.

We pull into the parking lot, and I realize that being new is the only thing giving me the strength to walk into the library tonight. I look around my home, books stacked on shelves wall to wall, surrounding the room, but tonight the familiar sight is just a bit more festive. There are simple, glittering, colorful decorations taped to shelves and tables. The Christmas tree is aglow. There are snacks and drinks out on tables.

I look around. It’s beautiful. It’s kind of fun. And it’s way more social than what I’m used to.

“Kaysee!” says Angela, walking up to her and hugging her. “Alanna!” She does the same to me. It’s kind of shocking. “You look gorgeous.” Her smile is small and sincere.

I smile back. “Thanks,” I say. We start to integrate into the party. I’m friendly, but shy, and a little nervous. Am I actually a shy person? I don’t think so. I’m just acting shy. It feels like the way I’m supposed to be.

As the night goes on, I laugh and eat and dance to the music and have a good time. I’m starting to get comfortable. These are my friends, after all. It’s Christmas. I love parties.

I grab a glass of punch and go stand in a corner. Just for a few seconds. I can’t socialize forever. I’m not ready to socialize forever.

Isn’t that what I originally wanted though? Isn’t that why i ran away from home? Didn’t I just want a night out? Didn’t I just stupidly want my entire life to be a night out? Isn’t that how I ended up in this disaster?

Here I go again: I’m thinking about Zeke.

It’s so sudden and out of completely nowhere. But a sharper sorrow comes at me today, maybe it’s from being worn out from socializing, but it answers my question with a surety. I miss Zeke.

The atmosphere reminds me of the homecoming dance. My first date with Zeke, the boy who charitably and foolishly took me into his home after I ran away from mine, as if I was a part of his family. And that’s what I became. I miss him. I miss his mom and dad. I miss his friends. Wow, I’m pretty sure that was the best night of my life, at least since Mom died. It’s like I’m there right now. I was wearing a long aqua dress. The air inside was stuffy but Zeke’s mom put my hair up by some miracle so it wasn’t that hot. There were colorful lights and colorful dresses everywhere. Music was blaring. Zeke’s friends were singing along, but I didn’t know any of the words. I was dancing in a dark and unfamiliar gym, with unfamiliar people--I had only been living with Zeke’s family for a month, but I was totally at home. Zeke was there. Sophia was there. I was there. They should have been there, but I shouldn’t have. I had no business inserting myself into his life just because mine was miserable. But we really had something good going for a minute. Until he started dating Sophia and we both ruined everything. What? No. How could I blame this on him? Zeke was so innocent. It’s not his fault that I somehow manage to ruin every home I ever live in.

What really drives me crazy is that Sophia was there at the dance too. Why had he been with me instead of her, when he started dating her a mere few weeks later? Why did he take me to the dance when he had no intention of being anything more than friends? Why did I think I would have any chance with a guy that I practically manipulated into caring about me? I forced myself into his life. I took a chance with him and it led to nothing but regret. It led to me just running away again. Why did I allow myself to think I could have a home with a boy I didn’t even know?

A short few months ago, I was the life of the party. Now it wears me out. I didn’t have a home with my father and sisters, so I ran away. I didn’t have a home with Zeke and his family. I in fact practically ruined their lives, so I ran away from there. Do I not belong anywhere?

The sorrow hits me full-on now. I’m at a party without Zeke. Before Zeke I would have never been able to go to a party; my dad practically kept me a prisoner in our house. Zeke can’t be here. Zeke shouldn’t be here. But sadly, I realize, I still want him here. I don’t want to be here if he isn’t here.

Suddenly it feels like there are a thousand more people in this room than there were two seconds ago. I push through the crowd of people. I can’t do this right now. Where is she? Where is she?

My eyes land on Kaysee, and I rush to her as fast as I can.

“Hey,” she says. “How are you liking it?” Her brow furrows as she fully sees and processes my face. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know I have to head out,” I say. “Thanks for having me. This was really fun.”

“Okay,” Kaysee says. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’ll walk,” I say. “Thank you.”

I breathe to myself as I press to the doors through the suffocating crowd. The interesting thing is that i told the truth. I had really enjoyed the party. It had been fun. But if there’s one thing I know, it’s when it’s time to leave.