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  REFLECTION

  JESSICA ROBERTS

  Copyright 2012 Jessica Roberts

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  EBook Edition: February 2012

  ISBN 978-0-615-60117-5

  For you, Mom ~

  From my goals on the soccer field

  to my goals as a writer,

  you’ve always believed . . .

  Before

  Thrills . . .

  In all her teenage years, they had never come more powerfully than the moment Heather zipped up her small suitcase. After all, she had been waiting for this crossroad for what seemed like her entire life.

  Today she would be saying a welcome goodbye to the fenced hay fields and run-down barns of her small hometown; she’d be parting on her own, moving out to college.

  It didn’t matter that she got almost no sleep last night, listening to her drunken stepfather thrash about the house. And it didn’t really matter that Mom wasn’t here to see her off. But the worst of lies would be to say it didn’t matter that she was leaving her best friend behind.

  She glanced one last time at the small corkboard on her wall with the goofy photo booth pictures they’d taken at last year’s county fair, closed the door to the sanctuary that had been her bedroom for the past eighteen years, took in a deep breath of calming air, and headed downstairs to face the inevitable.

  Her best friend was already there, waiting by the open front door. When his head rose and their eyes caught, and despite what was to happen today, they both grinned. Eventually she walked past him, nudging his shoulder in the usual spot.

  “You’re late, girlie,” he teased back, following her into summer morning sunshine with that bouncy strut that usually had a comforting effect on her; but not this time. This time it made her feel that much worse.

  They walked the warm countryside, strolling along a shallow creek on a familiar dirt path, both remaining unusually silent. But he finally poked into the tight, still air. “You didn’t jog by my house this morning. I was outside helping my dad with some yard work, and I never saw you.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t have time.”

  He wasn’t sure why he nodded since he didn’t agree with any part of this. Still, he promised himself he would support her, and ended up responding, “All packed up and ready to go, then?” But the words came out shallow. And really, it was no use. He didn’t want her to leave and they both knew it. Even so, he continued in the same encouraging way. “Big day today.”

  Her hands fumbled as she tried to make sense of a head full of thoughts and a mouthful of empty words. “I, I’m just . . . I need to stop by the library to say goodbye to Grandma V and pick up my paycheck . . . Thank her for everything; the car, the extra cash, for being the best boss ever. But I’m pretty much packed up.”

  “That’s good,” he told her. “So, I guess everything’s set.”

  After a length of more silence, the kind of silence that doesn’t really count since so much is being said, she finally peeked sideways at him, trying to keep her focus off the endearing dimple in his cheek. “I’m really going to miss you, Creed.” Then her focus went back to the dirt and her nose crinkled. “I’m not even really sure I want to go.” But since he’d seen the calendar in her room all marked up with X’s, and the X’s continued after their high school graduation day last week, she wasn’t fooling him.

  He might have reminded her this was her choice alone, or called her a liar, or not said anything. But instead he simply shook his head in a gesture of defeat, and then spoke softly, “Come on, Heath.”

  Too much behind those words—so much familiarity, so much of home, so much comfort, she could hardly stand it. She kept telling herself that he would be fine. She had more to lose without his company than he did without hers. He was superior to her in every way . . . well, except for bowling and ping-pong.

  Her hands continued to fidget like they always did when things were messy. “Please don’t make this harder than it is,” she countered, unsure of his thoughts, but sure if he vocalized them it would release the tight hose valves to her eyes. Emotions were on edge as it was. And besides, when life wasn’t throwing them a trial, and sometimes even when it was, they preferred humor to gloom; and so this conversation felt all wrong. But she went on, “I really need you to be supportive right now.”

  His hands found his pockets and his arms went stiffly against his sides. “It won’t be easy, you know. Sending my best friend off to college doesn’t make me want to jump for joy.” He paused, still shaking his head. “To lose you . . . ”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle at his melodrama, so unlike him. “Creed, you’ll never lose me; you know that. I’m not even leaving Missouri. St. Louis is only four hours from Nevada City—three the way you drive.”

  “Couldn’t even wait for fall semester,” he harped back, half joking and half serious. “We could have had a blast this summer, especially now that we’ve graduated. And what about the summer trip with my family to the sand dunes, and the country barn party . . . ”

  Heather shut her eyes so he wouldn’t see what she was thinking behind them: I just can’t do another barn party, Creed.

  “But nope,” he continued. “Had to leave right after graduation. Had to start college in the summer. And who leaves four days before their classes start? Maybe one or two days early, but four?” He glanced toward her, using his stare to bring home the guilt trip. But his purpose quickly dissolved in the sweet sincerity of her eyes. “So, what classes did you register for again? Track, of course, and then—”

  “History and Creative Writing,” she said too quickly and with too much enthusiasm, suddenly wanting to stick that familiar sock in her mouth. But she kept walking at an even pace and, as an alternative to the sock, put her arm through his; it was a natural gesture between them. And it never ceased to amaze her how safe she felt wrapped in his arm.

  After a quiet, thoughtful while, she grinned slightly. “Have I ever told you how perfectly your arm fits in mine?” She gripped him tightly, mostly to have the upper hand on the tussle that was about to ensue. “Probably because you’re so much shorter than me.”

  “I passed you up last summer, loser!” Despite its negative sound, between them the loaded word was more of an endearment than anything. Still, he made to tug away. But she held firm, bowing through a laugh.

  “Yeah, maybe,” she continued mercilessly. “If you include that curly blonde mop on your head.”

  A few refreshing chuckles followed, and then she rested her head on his shoulder while his hands remained pocketed.

  “Okay,” he replied. “You win.”

  “I always win.”

  “That’s very true.” He kicked a large dirt rock off her side of the path, exhaled in a sort of surrendering way, and then began in a lighter tone, “So after we stop by the library, what’s the plan for the morning?”

  “Well,” she said, smiling playfully, “I thought we would go to the grocery store, buy out the candy a
isle, find a park with a swing set, and eat gummy bears ’til we puke.”

  He chuckled knowingly. “Like the good old days.”

  With his words, Heather’s mind began traveling the carefree road of their childhood. Fond memories surfaced of two dirt-faced kids stomping around the open field behind the old neighborhood barn, digging for hidden treasures, having glass bottle breaking contests with mud-rocks, him teaching her how to burn ants with a magnifying glass, having a big brother around to protect her from the world. Suddenly, her arm compressed his again. “Yeah,” she said through a sigh. “The good old days.”

  Unfortunately for Heather, the good old days got progressively worse. But she wasn’t the wallowing sort. And yes, Creed had filled the void, made her smile, kept her sane and safe; he made life good. So leaving him would hurt right in the sensitive spots.

  But the thought of staying was unthinkable. So she tried not to think at all.

  The next length of silence was finally broken by his long, heavy sigh. “Okay. Can we be serious for a sec.?”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  “Funny.”

  But it wasn’t really, not this time. And suddenly, laughing was the furthest thing from Heather’s mind. His too, it seemed, since he continued with, “And if I sound cheesy, don’t call me out, okay? Let me say what I have to say.”

  After another long heavy breath, he began, “Remember, Heath, a couple years ago when my parents had their thirtieth anniversary party?”

  She nodded, settling her arm in his as they meandered along the uneven path under the dry, warming sun.

  “You had to work at the library late that night, and I remember waiting forever for you to show up. I was sitting on my parents’ balcony . . . ” He stopped, imparting a look that revealed a comical fork in his thoughts. She held in a smirk too, both of them recalling the skin-tight three-piece suit his mom had forced him to wear that night.

  But when Heather followed with, “You could actually sit in those pants?” they both couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “I think I would’ve rather been in my underwear,” he said through the laughter.

  “Okay, okay,” she finally said with one last laugh and a smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I thought we were being serious.”

  “Serious. Right.” He continued with another full breath, “Anyway, I was on the balcony watching for you, and I started thinking about my life, and all the things I have. My parents, my brothers and sisters, a home . . . ” He held short, glancing up to meet her stare, then wanting to look back down but evidently unable to. “And then I started thinking about you . . . ” His eyes were glistening with an emotion Heather couldn’t read, which was entirely new since they nearly always understood each other. There were flavors of sadness and happiness, frustration and affection, concern but complete trust. All were separate feelings they'd shared on several occasions. But this look was something more . . . something that took a big chunk of all of those and blended them into a single, solid one.

  “Then there’s you,” he continued. “My best friend. And you have none of that. And even though you’ve gone through so much, you still smile. You’re always smiling.”

  Always smiling? Heather raised her hand to object. He must have forgotten the day in third grade when he carried on teasing her about her “picture-day” haircut and she finally shoved him into the swing set, landing his face on a pole and leaving him a nice purple shiner, ruthlessly documented in his grade-school photo album. Or the time in seventh grade when she tried to pull him off of the eighth grade bully who slammed Heather’s locker closed one too many times. Or this year’s mishap when he tried to fix her hair for their Senior Prom and she ended up swatting his hands away so violently that the brush flung into his face, leaving a fat lip, unfortunately also documented.

  Evidently the command to remain quiet was still in effect because he shook his head and forced her arm down with his.

  “I remember like it was yesterday,” he went on, “watching you walk into the yard that night. I even remember what you were wearing—your only dress and that pearl necklace your mom left you.”

  He paused, perhaps for Heather to adjust to his comment. He’d mentioned her mom. It seemed allowable though, only because the mood was solemn. But just as her survival mode was about to make her say something that would have lightened the moment and made them both laugh, he carried on, “And just like always, you had a big smile on your face.” He turned and faced her. “By the way, have I ever told you that your eyes light up when you smile?”

  She almost said it, something off-hand, but miraculously refrained at the last second and merely nudged his arm.

  “I remember thinking to myself as I watched you from the balcony, There goes my girly, the loveliest creation in the whole world.”

  “Creed, seriously . . . ”

  “Just let me finish.” He cleared his already clear throat, maintaining their slow pace on the pathway. “Heath, even with all the crap you’ve been through, you are the best person I know. You’re witty and smart. And you’re levelheaded. But you also have a kind heart. And I hope you really share yourself with other people while you’re at college.”

  The last sentence stuck in her mind. Creed knows me so well, she thought to herself.

  He knew about the wall she created toward others that kept them from really getting to know her. And he also knew she was strategic. So he’d probably already guessed that she’d set a couple rules for her college life: one, to not tell anyone about her past, and two, to refrain from close relationships. Life was too unstable to dare let down her wall with some stranger at college.

  Truthfully, she didn’t enjoy being this way. But sometimes the past has a way of forming a person into who they are, in spite of themselves.

  Three specific tragedies led to her wall. She considered the first as rather obsolete since he left when she was a baby. And though she felt nothing for this man, her biological father, she couldn’t say the same for her mom. And it was easy for a daughter who truly loved her mother, to understand the heartache that must’ve accompanied his leaving. Heather knew two things about her real father, which were two things too many: She knew his last name, since it was hers too, and that he grew up in St. Louis.

  The second tragedy was living under the same roof as the town drunk, Bill, who, unfortunately, was also Heather’s stepfather. The physical consolation in him was a shy little stepbrother, Max, whom she saw once a month for a day and a night.

  But even Bill was manageable compared to what happened four years ago.

  Four years since Heather lost her mom to cancer. The disease festered a few short weeks before taking her. And the consequence was four long and empty high school years, when she needed her mom the most. The suffering left not only certain parts of Heather’s heart demolished, but another terrible effect as well; namely, the wall.

  It didn’t help that more current concerns sustained the wall: the fear of dealing with another gut-wrenching loss if she got too attached to someone; the embarrassment of her drunk stepfather; having to walk to Creed’s house in the middle of the night when Bill’s drinking got bad; all of her history that she rarely acknowledged but could never get away from. Even the handful of state-appointed counselors couldn’t penetrate Heather’s wall. Besides, who else did she need other than Creed and her supportive, elderly boss at the library and pseudo-grandmother, Grandma V?

  But a new chapter in Heather’s life was just around the corner. And some force beyond her said it was time to move forward, without her two-person support system. Spread her wings and fly! Well, okay, maybe the fly part was too much to hope for. But definitely the spreading of the wings part. And it was so close! Today! Just last month she remembered thinking this day would never come. Even now, she still wondered if she would ever really get there. She just couldn’t believe she’d be sleeping in her own apartment, at college, by tonight.

  Merely contemplating a new life at college m
ade her feel like she did while running: alive and free! It was a longing that had been knotted inside for some time; she could feel the pleasure of a fresh start descending upon her already. Autonomy and anonymity. To be a little fish in a big sea. To break free of the label “the library girl with the tragic family-life” and start with a clean slate. To finally have the freedom to truly be, without drunk stepfathers or small-town gossip or the painful past. To remove that past with an all-powerful eraser—now that would be true happiness!

  And happiness wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Was it wrong to want to break free? Was it wrong to dream of something better? To want so much more? More of something she couldn’t even put her finger on? More than others did, others like Creed who wanted life to stay the way it was?

  The fervent yet friendless yearning made Heather’s head droop. It was difficult to reconcile that someone that made her so happy didn’t understand something that would make her so happy.

  Frustrated that her best friend didn’t fully approve, frustrated she’d let her mind wander too far again, and frustrated that her current life didn’t satisfy her unquenchable thirst for something better, her temperamental blood began to boil.

  “And you’ll be a gift to all your new friends at college,” he went on. “Like you were to me.”

  “Were?” she exclaimed, detaching her arm from his. “What’s your problem, Creed? You’re talking like we’re never going to see each other again. Now you’re the one acting like a loser.”

  Knowing her anger would pass as quickly as it came, he took what at first looked like a shiny little ball out of his pant pocket.

  “Will you take this?” He presented a wide gold ring carved with intricate detailing. “And promise me you’ll always be safe? If I can’t be with you, at least I know you’ll always have a part of me while you’re at college.”

  Guilt. Sorrow. Appreciation.