6. Paige
Halloween - Noah Kahan
Cade slotted himself into my life like a puzzle piece. Between the daily monotony of classes and not much else, there was Cade. It was somewhat jarring how quickly he was becoming a vital part of my day. I was doing everything in my power not to fall for this man, short of keeping my distance.
Tonight is our first party at the new house. Mags single handedly decided we needed to let loose and have some fun, so we invited our friends over for Halloween. Truth be told, it’s mostly Maggie’s friends, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about playing co-hostess. This kind of thing comes naturally to her whereas, I often find myself hovering near the charcuterie boards, pretending to rearrange the snacks just to avoid any awkwardly stunted conversations.
I have always loved the logistics of party planning. My brain can put together an entire event and execute a theme flawlessly — it’s the social aspect that trips me up, literally and figuratively; despite my 16 years of figure skating training — graceful, I am not.
“Come on, Patsy!” I hear Mags hollering from downstairs.
I’ve been in the bathroom putting the finishing touches on the blonde wig that I’ve methodically maneuvered into a French twist, and adjusting the hemline of the tight as fuck pencil skirt so my thunder thighs aren’t out in full force. The attempt is futile; the thighs were going to be thundering regardless of my efforts. Maggie and I thrifted our “Absolutely Fabulous” Halloween costumes earlier this week and I have to say, I’m pretty proud of our ingenuity. Mags is the Eddie to my Patsy with her hair haphazardly curled around her shoulders and a bottle of champagne in hand.
“Let’s get this party started, Sweetie Darling.”
The guests have started to arrive so, naturally, I can be found standing by the kitchen island putting the finishing touches on a dessert platter. We’re three drinks deep and I’m finally starting to relax into the atmosphere of the celebration when my phone rings. I rush upstairs to answer away from the noise of the crowd, but I don’t get there in time and my childhood friend, Shayna, is sent to voicemail. I debate on calling her back but I decide to check the voicemail instead.
“Hey, Pip. Look, I don’t think there’s really a good way to say this,” she pauses and I can hear a choked sob escape her. “Jace passed away. There was a house fire and he didn’t make it out.”
There’s another brief pause and then, “Call me if you need to talk. Love you.”
And in the blink of an eye, my world comes to a screeching halt.
Jace was the first boy who ever made me feel seen.
Paige, 15 years old
It’s our second official date as a couple and my heart is beating out of my chest as we walk hand in hand around the lake in my hometown. Jace plays on the same hockey team as Shayna’s boyfriend, so she set us up on a blind date last week. Shay and Bryan took the trail in the opposite direction, no doubt to get some alone time to make out without the 15-year-old virgin hanging around. Shayna is 16 while Jace and Bryan are 3 years older, which should intimidate me, but his kind eyes and friendly smile captivated me the moment I met him. Honestly, I’m completely out of my league here. Jace is my first boyfriend, and I’m completely inexperienced.
Shay and I became fast friends when she transferred to the South End Skating Club about 6 months ago. We’ve been damn near inseparable all summer. Neither of us are driving yet so we walk to meet each other halfway around the lake until we decide what we want to do that day. About a week ago, Shayna talked me into hanging out at Bryan’s house and his friend Jace ‘just so happened to be there’ — it didn’t take long to figure out it was a setup. The day we met was my first date — ever. We went to a nearby park and talked for hours. At some point, he sat behind me on the playground, wrapped his arms around my waist, and held me there while we watched the sun set and stars come out. As far as first dates go, it was… perfect. We spent the next several days hanging out between Bryan’s place and the lake until he officially asked me to be his girlfriend.
“Ugh,” I grumble under my breath. “These mosquitoes are terrible.”
“They just like you because you’re so sweet,” Jace chuckles, then tugs on my arm and takes a seat on a nearby bench, pulling me into the crook of his arm and enveloping me in his musky scent.
We sit in silence for what seems like hours, but in reality is probably only a few minutes. Jace’s hand strokes my cheek before our eyes meet and the wo rld around us stops. He lowers his forehead to mine, and I suck in a shallow breath before our lips finally meet. It’s a gentle kiss. My first kiss.
Needing some time to process the news, I rush down the stairs and out the front door. The dulled sounds of the party carrying on behind me are a stark reminder that I’m alone.
Standing on the sidewalk in front of our home, I look both ways, debating which direction to take. To my right is the beach; it would take a few minutes to get there and walking alone on the streets of Toronto might not be the best idea right now, not that I particularly care. To my left and across a quiet street is the cemetery — how fitting.
The air is heavy with the scent of earth and freshly cut grass as I slip past the wrought-iron gate. The party’s distant music and laughter fades behind me, leaving an eerie, somewhat calming silence in its wake. Moonlight filters through the branches of old oak trees, casting long haunting shadows over the rows of gravestones. Wrapping my arms around myself as the cool October breeze sends a chill across my body, my breaths come in shallow, trembling gasps as I make my way to a small stone bench next to a weathered angel statue, its stone face etched with sorrow.
Memories flood my mind; from stolen kisses at the lake, to whispered secrets during long drives to nowhere, and the way his eyes shone when he laughed. The first boy I ever thought I loved. Whether it was actually love, I can’t be certain. I was young and I haven’t exactly had the best examples of romantic love. I do know that I cared deeply for him, despite how it may have ended. Our teenage romance was short-lived, but it left an indelible mark .
An hour passes, headlights shining in the distance as the city carries on like my world didn’t come crashing down around me tonight. Silent tears track down my cheeks when my phone chimes with a new notification from the app.
Kyle, age 24, Markham, Ontario.
I’m not really in the mood to talk to someone new tonight, so I tap over to my text message thread with Cade.
Paige: Hey Cowboy. Got a minute to talk?
A few heartbeats later, my phone is ringing with an incoming video call. I momentarily panic. It’s not our first FaceTime, but a perk of text conversations is the ability to filter yourself and think before you say something stupid, and I’m worried my heightened emotions are going to lead me into dangerous territory. Determined to not let the anxiety win, I push through my fears and swipe to answer the call.
“ Hey Sunshine, where are you? I can’t see your face.” There’s muffled music playing in the background — he must be at work.
“Oh, sorry. I’m outside. I, um, got some bad news and needed to be alone. You’re probably at work. I should let you get back to it.” I follow the familiar path back to our house, plopping down on our swing under the faint glow of the porch lights.
“No, it’s fine. I’m on my break. What happened, Paige? Are you okay?” He must be able to see the emotions written on my face now, or the mascara tracks on my cheeks.
“Yes. No? I don’t really know. My friend called to tell me my ex passed away.” I pause, uncertain where to go from here. Are we close enough frie nds already that we can talk about our exes? Is this going to be awkward for him?
We aren’t together so I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. “Jace was my first boyfriend in high school and it ended on bad terms, but we recently reconnected,” I explained. He had a son, and he asked me to help him design a tattoo in his honor. The mock-ups are still sitting on my desk beside last week’s American History notes.
Logically, I know Jace wasn’t the best boyfriend. We lasted about 6 weeks as a couple. When the end of summer break came, he decided our lives were too different to be compatible, and he broke my heart. He would come back every 6 months or so with pretty words and apologies, stirring up the same old feelings that always set my heart fluttering.
I was too young to know better, but my bruised heart didn’t care. We had been doing the same song and dance back and forth for years — I guess that’s over now. Another tear slips past my lashes.
“Where’s Mags? I don’t like the thought of you being alone right now,” Cade says, an air of concern lacing his words. That’s something I’ve learned about Cade. He may come off hardened at times, stoic even, but underneath his placid exterior is a heart full of compassion and empathy. A man who, in the weeks I’ve known him, I’ve come to realize is fiercely protective.
“I’ll be okay. We’re hosting a party tonight, so everyone else is inside having the time of their life. I… I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You can always call me, Sunshine.”
“Can I ask you something?” My voice is hesitant, but it’s something I’ve been wondering about since we first met.
“Anything,” he replies, his voice sincere.
“Why do you call me Sunshine?”
“It was something in your profile,” he begins, his voice soft yet unwavering. “You m entioned you loved watching the sunrise, no matter how early it was, because it reminded you that every day is a new beginning.” A small smile pulls at the corner of my lips — the first moment of levity in an otherwise difficult evening. “It really struck a chord with me. I remember thinking that someone who could find so much optimism in something as simple as a sunrise must have a really special kind of light inside them. When we started talking, I felt that same brightness directed at me, a virtual stranger. Calling you sunshine simply felt… right .”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
We sat in silence for a while until his break ended. This evening had been bleak. Even though it was ancient history, I was still shocked by the news. I figured Cade wasn’t quite ready to hear about my complicated past, so we said goodbye and I sat on the porch by myself for a while. As the party started winding down, the laughter and music slowly faded away, and I found myself captivated by the sun’s golden rays cresting over the hill; the sunrise would always remind me of Cade, now.
I decide it’s probably time to make my way to bed — emotions are always so much worse when exhaustion takes hold. I enter my room only to find it already occupied by several half naked strangers. Great. I continue walking around the house, taking stock of every surface I could possibly sleep on, only to find every bed, chair, and couch is already taken.
Making my way back upstairs to the laundry room, I settle on the hard floor, making do with a nest of freshly washed blankets before quietly drifting off to sleep, replaying the sound of my nickname on Cade’s lips, dreaming of new beginnings.