One
One
Here I remain, with tears in my eyes and dead leaves stuck to the soles of my shoes. I stare at the empty place in front of me, where, up until a few minutes ago, Thomas was.
He’s gone.
Unable to process what just happened, I drag myself up on to the porch, slide my bag off my shoulder, and dump it on the step before sitting down and closing my eyes for a moment. But even then, all I see is him.
His look of disappointment, resentment, and guilt.
It was my own guilt I saw reflected in him.
Guilt for not listening to him, for not believing him.
For always being so naive and needing to be good .
A warm, moist wind ruffles my hair, sending unruly black locks all around my face.
I start to gather my hair into a ponytail before I realize that I no longer have a hair tie on my wrist. Great, I must have lost it somewhere.
My God, how stupid can I be?
How did I end up in this situation? How could I let this happen to me?
I rub my temples; I can feel a migraine coming on as I try to piece together the scattered fragments of the last few hours.
Everything seems so confused and nonsensical.
I remember confessing to Logan that I had feelings for Thomas and then storming indignantly to the door after the nasty things Logan said about him.
But I also remember being coaxed into staying.
He didn’t want to be alone, he told me. And I let myself be swayed by his pleading tone.
So we started watching TV, and then…it’s a total blank…
A flash of lightning illuminates the sky, tearing the darkness into pieces.
The thunder that follows makes the porch railing vibrate.
I lift my face to watch the rain pour down.
Where is Thomas going? Possible answers to that question terrify me.
A small part of me is afraid that I already know exactly what he’ll do.
Another, more powerful roll of thunder makes me jolt.
It’s as though the sky is agreeing with my silent, heartbreaking assumption.
With my brain reeling from all sorts of repugnant imaginings and my soul in an uproar, I pull out my cell phone and try to call Thomas.
But after just two rings, it goes to voicemail, which only reminds me how much I hate communicating via phone.
I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut in frustration before I start mangling my fingernails.
Calm down, Vanessa. Relax. He’s not Travis.
He’s not going to go hop into someone else’s bed while I’m alone here. He won’t do it.
Right?
I pick up my phone again, but this time I try to contact the one person who can give me the answers I need. Or at least I hope so.
“Nessy?” Tiffany answers after just a few rings, sounding alarmed.
How can I blame her? I’d be worried too if I got a call from her in the middle of the night.
In the background on her end, however, I hear a cacophony of music and indistinct voices.
As I figured, she’s at the party Thomas mentioned earlier.
“Hey, Tiff, do you have a minute?”
“Sure. Are you okay? What’s up?”
For a moment, I’m tempted to tell her everything, but upon thinking about it, I restrict myself to the bare minimum. I’ll be able to explain more fully tomorrow.
“Nothing you need to worry about. Actually, I just wanted to know…” I sniffle and try to calm myself down. “Y-you’re at a party, right?”
“Yeah, Carol threw a movie party. It was supposed to be a quiet night in, but it quickly turned into a zoo,” she complains, moving away from the noise. “But why do you ask?”
“Well, I…I wanted to know if, by any chance, Thomas was around?”
“Around?” is her bewildered reply. “Why on earth would he be here without you knowing about it?” She pauses thoughtfully, then exclaims: “Wait a minute… Don’t tell me he’s being an idiot again.
That’s it, isn’t it? God, if I see him, he’s dead.
I swear, I’m gonna grab him by that Danny Zuko hair of his and make him wish he’d never—”
I break in, hesitant. “It was me. I’m the one being an idiot this time.”
“What?”
“I did something stupid. Really, really stupid,” I admit.
“He got mad and just took me home without saying another word. I haven’t been able to contact him since.
” I rest a hand over my eyes and, heartbroken, hang my head.
“He was completely beside himself when he left, and now he’s not answering my calls, and you know how he is…
You know what happens when he gets angry.
He can’t think straight, and he winds up doing stupid things.
I’m afraid he might…” The mere idea of Thomas sleeping with someone else makes the words wither in my mouth.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to shove that nightmare scenario aside.
“It’s okay; I get it,” Tiffany says, sensing my fears. “Listen, Thomas wasn’t here when I got here, but he showed up just before eleven thirty. He only stayed a couple of hours and then left. He seemed tense, honestly, and I haven’t seen him since.”
I should be relieved that he’s not at Carol’s party, but instead I’m even more anxious than before. If he’s not there, then where is he? I reject out of hand the idea that he might have gone home; he was too angry to hide inside the four walls of his room.
“Do you know where else he might have gone? I mean, it’s Monday; I’m guessing there aren’t that many other parties going on tonight, right?”
“Maybe at the frat house? I heard Finn was doing something for his birthday.”
This is going from bad to worse. If Finn was throwing a party, Thomas surely would have gone, and he’s not the only one. An awful idea pops into my head.
“Tiff, do you happen to know if Shana is there?” I ask, biting the inside of my cheek in embarrassment.
“Shana? No, I haven’t seen her here. But you know we don’t exactly run in the same circles.” And that’s the moment my heart stops. She’s not there. He’s not there. Please, God, just let it be a horrible coincidence.
“Are you still there?” Tiffany asks me after a prolonged silence.
“Yeah,” I answer, taking a deep breath.
“Hey, don’t panic. Everything will work out, you’ll see.
” Tiff tries to cheer me up as best she can, but it’s useless and she knows that too.
I tell her goodbye and end the call while the maelstrom of my thoughts overwhelms me, driving me crazy.
Did he go to her? Are they together right now?
I shouldn’t be surprised if he did; Shana spelled it out for me just a few hours ago: He always comes back to her.
And the worst part is, this time, I’m the one who sent him.
My teeth are digging into my lip, my fingers are trembling, and my eyes are burning as I try to call him again, refusing to believe the worst. But he doesn’t answer.
Shortly thereafter, the porch light turns on, and the front door opens, my mother peering out from behind it. “Vanessa, what are you doing out there? It’s two thirty in the morning and you’re all wet; get in the house.” Her voice is thick with sleep.
“No, I’m fine out here,” I say shortly, not even turning around.
I have no intention of pretending that things are okay between us, because they aren’t, at all.
I’m still hurt about our argument and the insane threats she made, ordering me to cut Thomas out of my life.
I’m sure she would be thrilled if she knew about my current situation with him.
“With this cold weather, you’re going to get sick,” she insists, sitting down next to me and wrapping her fleece robe around herself.
I ignore her and try to call Thomas for the umpteenth time.
An endless series of rings, one after another, until his voicemail picks up, and I am overwhelmed by a new wave of despondency.
“Listen, Vanessa…” my mother begins. “I know we’ve been at odds lately. You didn’t give me a chance this morning to explain how things are between Victor and me, and I’m very sorry you heard about him moving in from him and not from me. I just want you to understand—”
I turn and interrupt her with a miserable laugh.
“‘At odds,’ you say? Think about it: without considering me in the slightest, you’ve decided to permanently move a man into our house.
A man you’ve known for, what? A few months?
And at the same time, you’re backing me into a corner, threatening to take everything away from me just because you don’t approve of the boy I’m seeing?
” Or was seeing, anyway , I point out to myself.
“Must we go over that again?” she retorts, her face hardening.
“Would it do any good? Of course not, because you’ve already decided that Thomas is no good for me, and nothing’s going to change your mind, is it?”
“I guess I wasn’t entirely wrong about the boy, if I’m finding my daughter out here crying in the middle of the night, refusing to go inside the house,” she informs me contemptuously, talking to me as though I were still a little girl.
I snort loudly. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” I ask, glaring at her. “But it’s not true. You don’t know anything about me, and you don’t know anything about him!”
“I don’t know anything about you? Don’t make me laugh.
You are my daughter; no one knows you better than me.
Do you think Victor didn’t tell me about last night’s little visit?
” she snaps, giving me a reproachful look.
She shuts her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose while taking a deep breath, as if trying to remain calm.
Then, she continues. “Warnings and advice notwithstanding, I am trying to be understanding with you, but it doesn’t work this way.
You can’t just do as you please. This is my house, and the rules I set must be respected, otherwise… ”