Quiet, part 12 and 13

Part 12

June 7th she told me she was going to Indiana for a month, and the next day she and I attended a barbeque at my aunt and uncle's house. Most of the people there were close family and had known who Daisy was, and were more interested in hearing her wild and exciting version of our road trip instead of my factual account of the matter. I watched her all day, from a close distance, float around the group, telling stories of beautiful sunsets and magical landscape and adventurous views; watching her brought back all the vividness of the trip, but mainly just had me thinking of ways to stop her leaving for Indiana. My family vacation was the week she would be back, meaning five weeks in which she and I would be completely apart, and while I assumed she could handle it, I wasn't sure I could.

The afternoon was a waste for both of us, and driving back to her father's apartment that night, both smelling of barbeque and sweat and looking tired and sun-worn we quietly said goodnight and walked away from each other for the first time that summer with really no life or excitement about our next encounter. The hardest reality is knowing that your end fate is not what you want. Something like wanting or expecting to be a professional football player, but knowing that there has never been a professional player standing 5 feet, 10 inches and only 130 pounds, who couldn't bench press his own weight. It just wasn't going to happen and that's what my relationship with Daisy suddenly felt like -- it just wasn't going to happen. The stars weren't aligned -- she was going away and then I was leaving and then the summer would be over and she would be in Austin and I in Dallas.

I was tired and I hated reality.

"Hey," she spoke quietly on the phone, always just loud enough for me to barely pick up what it was she was saying, "I'm sorry about tonight, I was just so tired, and you seemed upset, so I didn't want to push any buttons."

I didn't really speak; when she called, I answered but just listened to her talk and then as she breathed easily into the phone. She was trying to be quiet. I just laid there, in my bed, eyes focused on the ceiling fan, at first trying to keep count of the revelations, but then seeing images from the past semester in my mind, but playing like a projector on the spinning fan blades.

"Will, are you up," she asked, braeking the awkard silence, "I hope you're okay. That's why I am calling. You seemed upset today?"

Again I avoided speaking, unsure of what to tell her. Had I become that guy? The guy who can't be friends with the girl he has feeling for once the guy finds out they won't be more than friends? Was I him? I kept thinking about that, between thoughts of the spring and sounds of her breathing into the phone, until she finally hung up.

Of course I didn't sleep well at all; I worried about her worrying about me, and then I worried that I was overreacting to her taking a family trip, and then I panicked that maybe my only shot was getting her to know exactly how I felt before she left. Tossing and turning and barely sleeping throughout the night, I woke early, ran and rode my bike, and tried hurrying to get to her father's apartment, but as I left my house, she was sitting on the front porch, back to me.

"Hey," I said, walking to the steps of the porch and sitting next to her.

"Hey," she answered back quietly, staring out into the distance, away from me. She had most likely just woke; her hair was barely fixed and she wasn't wearing any sort of necklace.

"I'm so sorry about last night," I spoke, unable to look her in the eyes, "I just was really tired. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" She asked back, pushing me in the left shoulder, "Will you acted like a crazy man last night," she yelled, pushing me once again in the same shoulder, and then standing and walking away from me, she finished, "I barely slept last night, worrying about you."

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my now sore shoulder, "honestly I don't know what's going on. I just got really depressed at my aunt's yesterday and I just hsouldn't have acted like that. Really I'm sorry that you had to worry."

"It's okay, just remember that we're friends Will, " she said closely to my face, "I am here to listen or to yell to, or to cry with, or whatever. You know I don't judge you."

"I know."

"Good. Damn will, I thought you were mad at me," she said, unaware that on some sort of level, I was a bit.

"Hey," I spoke quickly, completely aware of what I needed to do and totally confident to do it, "let's get dinner or see movie tonight?" I could take her out and then tell her exactly how I felt, and it would give her a chance to think about it in Indiana, or maybe cause her to not leave and to spend the rest of her summer with me.

"I need to start packing Will," she spoke quietly, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What," I asked, completely blindsided by the news, "weren't you leaving next week?"

"Plans changed a little," she spoke, again quietly, this time not towards me, "my father is leaving for a convention this week, and so I just figured that I could leave early and avoid spending a week alone in that apartment."

"Oh," still shaken.

"I'm actually getting dinner with my dad tonight, but afterwards you should come over and help me pack?" She asked.

"Yeah, I can do that," I answered back, nauseated horribly.

"Okay," she said, hugging me tightly, "I need to go, but tonight around nine Will."

She let me go and walked to her care before I could tell her goodbye.

...

Part 13

At 8:55 p.m. I knocked on Daisy's dad's apartment. Through the door I could hear yelling and arguing and stomping throughout the apartment. At least once a week she and her father would argue utnil the point of her crying and he sleeping in his car. It was never good and that night when she opened the door, with tears streaming down her face and her body shuddering horribly, I knew it was one of those type of arguments.

"Daisy," I caught her in my arms as she fell into me, crying and shaking, "Hey. Are you okay?" I asked, hugging her tightly.

"I just hate him Will," she cried as her father marched up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door shut.

"No you don't Daisy," I whispered into her ear, "It's okay, just breathe."

We stood quiet; her in my arms for a few more minutes until she gathered herself and took my hand and led me upstairs to her bedroom.

"I'm sorry," she spoke, wiping her eyes and sitting in front of two suitcases, "we just had one of those angry parents, angry daughter moments," she laughed lightly.

"Yeah," I answered, still worried about her, "you almost packed?"

"Close," she answered, focused mainly on folding her clothes, "there are come clothes still in the dryer that I need to get, but, it's almost done. I hate packing," she said.

We didn't talk very much; I sat on her bed, across from her, sitting on the floor packing and repacking. She would look at me every once in a while and smile, sort of letting me know she was okay. Of course I wasn't buying it, but as the night wore on, I just wanted to hug her and ask her to never leave, maybe even to run away with me.

"Will, do you think you'll miss me," she asked after giving me one of her reassuring smiles.

"Of course," I answered quickly, "I don't have any other friends in town," I laughed, "I'm more concerned about you forgetting who I even am over this next month."

"Geez louis," she stood up and walked over to me, "how could I forget my favorite boy?" She kissed my forehead before running downstairs to get the last of her laundry.

I quickly took a white sheet of paper and pen from her desk and wrote her a note and set it on her suitcase before meeting her downstairs at the bottom of the stairs. She had her hands full; I took the basket from her, sat it down, hugged her and promised her that I would miss her. She began to cry again and held me tighter than she had when I first arrived that night. She kept breathing loudly with each sob; every second she held me I wanted more and more to save her from every disappointment life kept bringing her. I wanted to tech her heart how to love, the way she had taught mine.

"Daisy. Sorry I couldn't say this. I just really am going to miss you. In fact, I don't want you to go. Please stay. For me? I love you. Your favorite boy."