twenty
We text incessantly for the next two months.
Or I text her incessantly, and she replies… whenever she can. At best, it’s once a day. At worst, it’s days before her dad allows her to use her phone. And then, she deletes my new texts almost immediately.
Europe, or at least the Europe we visit, is filled with music, beauty and summer. But mom, James and I see it all through the black glasses of grief: every color muted, every beach gray, every concert off-key. But at least, we are together. That is the only thing that is keeping us sane.
It is too early for healing.
I think, deep down, that it is impossible for me to heal, anyway. Only Eden did that for me. And she had only just started before I left.
I call her a few times, when I get really desperate, but her phone is always turned off. I want to climb out of my skin. Finally, she texts me, and the instant relief is so potent, it’s like a drug.
I was worried… No, scared. I was scared. Scared that it had ended between us, somehow.
Father has taken time off work to spend with me , she texts me. I think he suspects I don’t need him like I used to.
That’s right, you don’t , I think and instantly recoil as possessiveness rears its ugly head. It’s the girl’s dad, jeez. He’s entitled to spend time with his daughter. Even though she called him ‘Father’, which sounded kind of weird. But whatever, who am I to judge? I call mine ‘Dad’ and he doesn’t even exist.
Does that make you happy?
I don’t know why I type that. Something inside me wonders if he is stifling her. If she will feel more pressured now than ever. In spite of her adoration of him, I personally think he is an asshole if he is so strict she can’t even tell him about me.
Yes , she replies. I wait, but she doesn’t add anything. Weird.
When can we talk?
We are talking right now , she types. We’ll need to stop in a minute. He’s in the bathroom.
Oh, this is unbearable.
I need to call you, I type . I need to be calling you. I can’t exist on these desperate texts that won’t even stay on my screen. I need to talk to you several times a day to survive.
That’s not possible right now .
Then give me a specific time.
I can’t call you, my father will hear me.
Ok, then I will call you. Every night, when he’s asleep.
I’m scared he’ll hear me talking, and then… He’ll take my phone away, Isaiah.
Look, I don’t know what type of relationship you two have, and it’s none of my business. But you shouldn’t be afraid of your own father, Eden.
I’m not. This one comes very quickly, almost the same time as I press ‘send’. Did she even read what I wrote?
Oh, good , I type.
He’s very strict.
Yes, I know.
He has his reasons. He wants to protect me. Everything he does, it’s… it’s not without reason.
Reasons . I wait for her to type something, but her dots stop moving. Religious? I ask, giving her an opening in case she wants to say more.
You could say that.
The dots stop. She’s not typing anymore. I guess she doesn’t want to say more. The next instant, our whole chat has disappeared. Deleted.
…
After that, she texts me more frequently. I think that she realizes she needs me too. Maybe not as desperately as I need her, but maybe a little. I’ll take a little over nothing at all .
And in the end, that’s what will give us away. Of course, I don’t know that yet, I don’t even suspect what is going on with her and she… she has no idea how phones work, how visible everything you do on the phone is. She has no idea how the world works.
I have no idea how the world works either, yet.
I don’t know that she is being held a prisoner in that man’s house. At this point, I don’t know what kind of a monster he is; I still think he is her father.
And, more importantly, so does she.
…
One day, out of the blue, she texts me:
Will you meet any girls there? Any, you know, normal girls?
I’m on a beach in Nice, lying on a chair like a corpse.
I sit up and nod slightly so that my sunglasses drop from my forehead to my eyes. Everything around me turns sepia. James is sprawled on a lounge chair next to me, holding court with at least seven girls, all of them too old for him. He is laughing, flirting, teasing them, basking in the adoration. They touch him with their toned, tanned hands, inching closer and closer to his body. He lets them.
I bet none of them suspects for a second that he was having a panic attack in his sleep last night.
Two of the girls keep stealing glances towards me. One of them arches her lithe body my way, showing off her light blue bikini. I turn my back on them.
Normal how? I type.
You know, normal as in knowing where to cross the street.
I shiver. James turns to shoot me a look of worry. That’s not funny, Eden.
I wasn’t trying to be funny .
What were you trying to be?
Not jealous.
I almost drop the phone on the sand. Did she just type ‘jealous’? I read her text again. I f you knew how absolutely happy that makes me right now, Eden, you… You have no idea.
The dots aren’t moving. What is going on? I slide to the edge of my seat, sudden fear gripping my chest. The sea is sparkling two feet away. It’s six in the afternoon.
Eden?
Nothing.
Please reply to my text, or I swear, I’m calling you without even calculating the time difference from here to Massachusetts.
Her dots begin to move and I’m immediately on my feet. The dots stop. I’m about to lose what’s left of my mind.
What’s wrong? Talk to me.
Eden.
Finally, she tells me. It turns out that while I have been away, she has been torturing herself with ridiculous fears. Apparently, she thinks I am going to meet a literal army of girls and fall for each and every one of them.
I fumble with my phone in my haste to reply to her:
Ok, let me make myself clear. There is no other girl. It’s you. It’s only you. I haven’t looked at another girl or felt the need to since I met you. Literally since that day. You’re my person, Eden.
Don’t you think we are too young and…
Wha t
Well, too stupid, in your case at least… My lips stretch in the hugest smile. To make such declarations?
Well, maybe I should be clearer then. I am absolutely sure about you.
I’m not.
You mean you don’t believe me?
Not a word.
Fine, be that way. I smile as I’m typing. I’m getting on a plane right now, and I’m meeting you in our woods. And I am going to kiss you until you wilt and faint on me. I close my eyes and, for a second, I am back in the coolness of the forest.
She doesn’t reply.
Was it like in your books, every time I kissed you, Eden? I ask her. Was it like the kisses you read about?
I’ve never read anything that even slightly resembles my situation in my books, she texts back . Including your kisses.
I blush to the roots of my hair.
James’ harem of girls look like they are about to abandon him and run over and attack me. I can only guess what the look on my face is, how turned on I must look.
“Dude,” James says, shaking his head and laughing.
I run up to our room and have seven cold showers, one after the other.
They don’t help at all.