I’m in love with Jennifer Turner. I don’t know if it’s because of her looks or because of that time in the fourth grade when she told Greg Lawry to pick on someone his own size or because of that time I dropped my pencil in math class, and when we both bent down to pick it up, our hands grazed or just because of that feeling I get in my stomach when I look at her.
Oh boy, that feeling.
Before we were let out of school for winter vacation, I was at my locker taking my time to double, triple check I had everything. I did that everyday, even though I always knew I had everything I needed in my backpack already. I always took my time at my locker because I knew Jennifer’s locker was just up the hall. And everyday, as she walked down the hall, dressed in her mauve jacket, the backpack she’d had since the eighth grade slung over her shoulder, peppered with pins, I turned around, smiled at her, and said, “Have a stunning rest of the day, Jennifer!” And everyday, she would smile right back at me—warmly, I liked to imagine—and said, “I hope you have a swell one, Jonah!”
It was moments like that that made me smile. It was moments like that that made me feel warm and light, as if I were floating. I’m in love with Jennifer Turner. I’m in love with Jennifer Turner, and I think she loves me, too. These are the thoughts that guide me to sleep.
And so it was in that very same moment, as Jennifer walked past my locker and turned to traverse down the other hall that I realized: I wouldn’t see Jennifer for two weeks. Two weeks. Two weeks was too long. What could have possibly possessed the school board into thinking that we needed two whole weeks to celebrate the holidays? What could have possibly possessed them into thinking that I could go two weeks without missing her?
Oh boy, that feeling.
I couldn’t do it. It had only been a few moments since I’d last seen her, and I already knew I couldn’t do it. I sat there, slumped and defeated in front of my locker, feeling like sh
it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. Would she miss me as much as I would miss her? Would she even think of me?
I couldn’t do it.
And as I sat there, thinking I couldn’t do it, Erica Brewer made her way over to my locker and looked down at me on the floor. I became conscious of an evident decline in the amount of light, noticed she was there, and looked up into her soft green eyes. “What are you doing down there?” she asked. “I’ve fallen,” I told her. She looked at me sadly before reaching down and holding her hand out to me. I accepted it and allowed her to help me up.
“Thank you,” I said. “It was my pleasure,” she replied. We stood there for a moment, me relishing in my depression, and her lingering. She took my hand again. I looked up at her. “Hey,” she said, “I’m throwing a party for New Year’s. Do you think you can make it?” When I heard this, my heart rose. I accepted right away, and Erica took out a black pen and wrote her address and phone number right there on my arm. “Thank you,” I said. “No problem,” she said, “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there.” She hugged me, and then she was gone.
I stood there for a moment, basking in the warmth again. I could do it. I didn’t have to wait two weeks. You see, Erica was Jennifer’s best friend. If Erica was throwing a party, Jennifer would be there. I was going to be there. Goddamn, all I wanted was to see Jennifer there.
And maybe, maybe Jennifer would see that I was there, too.
I’m driving my car, on my way to Erica’s party, and thinking about the New Year. I already have my resolutions decided upon. I was going to be the very best person I could be, and I was going to make Jennifer happy. That’s really all I wanted. Knowing she was happy made me happy. That smile... When I see her smile, I just feel happy inside. It’s really not something I can explain adequately with words.
Oh boy, that feeling.
When I ring the doorbell, I’m let in right away. Erica greets me with a smile and waves me in. There are still a few hours left of the year, and I am early, so very few people have arrived. I find myself a seat in the living room and bunker down for the New Year. Soon, Jennifer will be here, and then I can start enjoying myself.
Erica finds herself a seat besides me and crosses on of her legs over the other. She blows a lock of her dark hair out of her face and smiles at me. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she says. “I’m glad to be here,” I tell her. “Any big plans for the New Year?” she asks me. “A few,” I reply. I smile at her. Before she can respond, the doorbell rings and she has to get up to greet the new arrivals.
Events play out similarly to that for something like an hour, me sitting here, her running back and forth from the door to speaking with me. It’s nice, and I’m delighted that I have someone I like to keep me company while I wait for Jennifer to arrive. I appreciate very much what Erica is doing for me, even if she doesn’t know it.
Finally, when Erica opens the door, Jennifer is the one to step through. She steps into the house and looks around with a delighted expression her face. I swear, she looks right at me and smiles. She turns to Erica and says a few words to her. Erica laughs and smiles at her. Then a tall male youth, someone I haven’t met before, as I don’t recognize him as someone from out school, steps inside, shakes the snow from his jacket, and joins in on the conversation. Jennifer turns to him and hands him her jacket.
It’s her brother.
She leans forward on her tiptoes and gives him a kiss on his cheek before she steps away and makes her way into the room where everyone else is waiting on the New Year to arrive.
It isn’t her brother.
Panic strikes me. She couldn’t have a boyfriend. She couldn’t. How couldn’t I have known this one thing? How did I miss something as blaringly important as this? I am feeling all kinds of emotions right now, and none of them are warm. I feel confused. I feel lost. I feel sick. The room is spinning, and I suddenly have a headache.
Oh boy, that feeling.
They’ve begun counting down, and I haven’t even noticed. I’ve been sitting here, trying to forget. It is suddenly too loud to forget, and all I can do is think about it. I look over at where they’re sitting.
10. They’re both smiling and my heart is sinking lower and lower and lower.
9. Has she ever really smiled at me like that?
8. Is this my fault? Did I do something wrong?
7. The clock is ticking and they’re starting to move, pulling each other closer. She’s looking at him and only him and also not me.
6. Not me. She’s looking at him.
5. She’ll never look at me like that. And she never has.
I can’t take it. I have to get out of here. I get out of my seat and dash for the door, my steps wavering. I need air, I need air. I can’t take any of this. I just can’t be inside here right now. Not when things are like this.
I exit and step into the frigid air. It’s silent outside, the sounds of the party muffled and lost behind the walls of the house. I take in a deep breath of cold air. This is exactly how I feel right now. Cold, empty. I take a few steps forward and find myself in the yard, standing there in the snow, looking up into the clear night sky, just breathing.
There’s the sound of the door opening and closing behind me, the sound of footsteps, the crunching of snow, and someone is behind me. I can’t help myself. I can’t help but hope it’s Jennifer. I turn around. It’s Erica, and she’s looking at me, her expression troubled. “What are you doing out here?” she asks me. “I’ve fallen,” I tell her, “and it hurts.” “Tell me about it?” she asks.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to have a boyfriend. She wasn’t supposed to be in love with someone else. This was supposed to be our day. We were supposed to finally notice each other at the same time. Something… Something was supposed to happen. I can’t breath. It’s all just... Okay, deep breaths. Did I ever tell you what my New Year’s resolutions were? One of them was to make myself the very best person I could be, and the other one was to make her happy. Goddamn, that’s all I wanted, for her to be happy. For us to be happy. But she has a boyfriend. Oh, god, she has a boyfriend.”
Erica’s been patiently listening this whole time, concern on her face. I want to say more, but that’s really all there is to be said. Somehow, I feel better. I close my eyes and take another breath. When I open them again, Erica is watching me. Our eyes meet, she speaks. “Maybe the day doesn’t have to be ruined? Maybe there’s somebody else out there for you…” She looks at me hopefully, “Maybe there’s someone else who’d like to notice you at the same time that you notice them.”
It finally hits me. This is new. I gulp.
“Well, the day’s over,” I say, “It’s probably already ended.” “Oh,” she says, “then happy New Year.” “Happy New Year,” I say. “I guess it’s a new year now. A time for a new beginning, the start of something new?” she asks. “I guess everything’s in the past now,” I say.
We both start leaning forward. “Happy New Year,” I say again. “Happy New Year,” she says. And then I feel warm. I feel elated. I feel infinite.
Mentally, I revise my New Year’s resolutions. I would very much like to be the very best person I can be, and I would very much like to make Erica happy. It’s only now in the lingering moments after our kiss that I finally realize how absolutely wonderful her smile is.
08-04-2011, 03:40 AM
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