12. Asher
TWELVE
ASHER
December 24, 2014
“I told you I would pick all that shit up later.” My mom stumbles into the kitchen, sliding herself onto one of the kitchen chairs. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her makeup is smeared under her eyes. It looks like she got into a fight with a toaster while in the bathtub.
“It’s fine. I got it.” I roll my eyes and open another trash bag. I pick up an empty vodka bottle, along with a few half-empty beer bottles, and pour the stale liquid down the drain before tossing them in the bag with the other empties. They all fall to the bottom, clinking against one another.
My mom sits back in her chair, sliding her butt along the cushion until her shoulders are resting against the back. She stretches one leg out and stares at me with hooded eyes.
She lifts her cigarette to her mouth, taking a long, slow drag before she quickly blows it out. “Where are you going all dressed up?”
Her words are slurred, but I’m still able to make out what she says. I look down at my shirt, not sure what my mother means by ‘dressed up’. I’m wearing one of the only three shirts I own. This one happens to be in the best condition out of all of them. I guess if you were to make a comparison to my usual clothes, my mother could be right—this is dressed up.
“It’s Christmas Eve.” I refuse to meet her gaze, only focusing on cleaning our small kitchen. Our trailer is one of the smallest in the park. In all honesty, it’s probably considered more along the lines of a camper than anything resembling a home.
“You’re going to see that slut, aren’t you? What’s her name again?” She grimaces. “ Charles ?”
I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes, clenching my jaw. My teeth grind against one another, and the pressure builds in my temples. “You know her name is Charleigh, Mom… and she’s not a slut.” I’m trying to contain my anger, knowing my mother is only saying these things because she’s drunk. Charleigh has met my mother only once, on a rare occasion when she was not drunk. Only halfway there.
That was the one time my mother spoke kindly about Charleigh. Since then, she’s always made snide comments about how Charleigh’s family thinks they’re better than the rest of us because they make ten times as much as we do. For a while, I tried to keep our friendship a secret, but once I realized I loved Charleigh more than just a friend, I didn’t want to hide her anymore. I wanted my mother to know I’d found someone good and kind. I wanted her to meet the woman I was in love with.
Mom scoffs, raising her lazy hand to take another drag. “The rich and privileged are always the dirtbags. Trevor Keeler is no different.” She stands, dropping her cigarette into an empty beer bottle I have yet to clean up.
My mother’s comment about Trevor isn’t entirely false. Charleigh’s father has been having an affair with his secretary for God knows how long. Everyone knows it, even Charleigh. He doesn’t try to hide it, and her mother pretends his infidelity doesn’t exist. The fact that my mother lumps Charleigh in with her scumbag father makes the anger inside my chest boil.
Still carrying the trash bag, I walk over to the table and pick up the bottle. My mother’s hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me. Her grip tightens, the ends of her fingers turning white. This time, I finally look at her, realizing she looks even worse up close.
“She’s going to ruin you, Asher. Mark my words.”
Tearing my arm from her grip, I pick up the bottle and drop it into the bag. “No, Mom. That’s your job.”
I turn around and head toward the front door without looking back. It’s Christmas Eve, and I promised Charleigh I’d sneak into her bedroom before midnight. Snow is in the forecast, and I can already see the first few flakes coming down through our dirt-dusted window.
I sling the trash bag over my shoulder and push against the screen door. The sound of my mother’s raspy voice stops me from stepping over the threshold.
“How dare you talk to me that way?” she croaks. “I’m your mother.”
Steeling my chest, I turn around to find her now standing in the middle of our small living room. The strap of her tank top is loose around her shoulder, falling down her arm. It doesn’t matter that it’s fucking freezing outside and our trailer has no heat. Alcohol numbs the cold, apparently. But even through my frustration with my mother, it isn’t until I look in her eyes that I regret the words I’ve spoken.
Sadness clouds her blue eyes. They’re a shade darker than usual, her black makeup outlining them in dark smudges. My chest aches knowing she wasn’t always this way. I’m not sure when she changed. She’s been this way for so long, I can’t even remember.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that. ”
My apology is sincere. I’m sorry for every circumstance that brought her to becoming the woman standing in front of me. I’m sorry for not being the son she wants me to be. I’m also sorry that I’ll be leaving her in the next few months. I still haven’t told my mother about me leaving for NYU or my full scholarship. I want to tell her, but the bigger part of me knows she won’t understand how this will be better for us. If I can graduate with a business degree and start my own real estate firm, I know I’ll be able to give her a better life. I simply need more time. More time for her to understand.
“Whatever. Shut the fucking door. You’re letting the cold in.” She waves me off, falling onto our worn, leather sofa. She picks up the remote and turns on the TV, ignoring me, keeping her eyes focused on the flashing screen. “Go on. Get on out of here and leave me. Just like your father.”
“Merry Christmas, Mom.” I push the screen door open and walk over to the dumpster to throw out the trash. My mother’s comment isn’t one I haven’t heard before. Most nights she’s passed out on the couch before I leave to go to Charleigh’s, but on the nights she’s sober enough to stay awake, she always makes a comment about my father and how he left us for someone else. All I know is he lives out in California. I may not know him well enough to form an accurate opinion, but my mother doesn’t make it easy to decide who to believe. My father is a mystery, and my mother can’t seem to let go of the past.
The snow glistens as it falls, coating the town in a blanket of white.
My entire face is numb, and I’m covered in snowflakes by the time I make it onto Charleigh’s street. Her house is in the most upscale neighborhood in town. Large colonials run up and down each side, tall fences demarcating each yard. It’s my favorite neighborhood to take note of the architecture. At least at first it was. After I’d seen Charleigh digging in her backyard that first time, she quickly became the reason this is my favorite place.
When I make it to Charleigh’s, I sneak in the shadows up her driveway and tiptoe to the trellis below her bedroom window. I cling close to the brick wall and slide my phone out of my pocket. My screen is cracked and the top corner is blacked out. I type out a quick text to let Charleigh know I’m here, then quickly scale up the length of her house.
Charleigh meets me at her window when I make it to the top.
She immediately wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my neck.
“Oh, my God,” she breathes, tensing her arms, squeezing me tighter. “You’re soaking wet and freezing cold.”
“It was already starting to come down when I left,” I tell her. She loosens her arms around me and rises on her toes to kiss me.
I wrap my hand around the back of her head and pull her to me. She smells like she’s been digging in her garden all day, and I wonder how when the ground is frozen solid and there isn’t a fresh flower in sight.
When I reluctantly break our kiss, she presses both hands to my face. Her thumb grazes beneath my eye, wiping away a melted snowflake.
I grin at her gesture, but it vanishes when I see tears welling in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she whispers, shaking her head and looking down at her feet. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not.” Hooking my fingers under her chin, I lift her gaze to mine.
She rolls her eyes and sighs. “You don’t even know what it is. For all you know, it could be something ridiculous. ”
“If you have tears in your eyes, then I know it isn’t ridiculous.”
Her eyes close as she takes several slow and deep breaths. When she opens them again, the tears have subsided, but her eyes are still clouded with sadness. “My parents were fighting again. They were arguing the entire drive home from the company Christmas party. They were yelling in the foyer when I snuck up stairs. I’ve been hiding out here ever since.”
“I’m so sorry.” They’re the only two words I’m able to utter, knowing nothing I can say will change anything. Charleigh needs me to escape her parents. I need her to escape my mother. I’m just hoping she gets her acceptance letter soon.
I pull her toward me, placing my lips against hers again, hoping to take away the pain. Her mouth is warm. This time, she parts her lips, allowing her tongue to slide against mine. I taste her peppermint toothpaste.
My hands slide down her neck and onto her back. She’s wearing a plain T-shirt tonight, the hem hitting mid-thigh. I used to think her flowery tank top and shorts were my favorite on her, but I’m thinking I may have just changed my mind. She places her hands on my hips, gripping the fabric of my shirt. After a few minutes of kissing, I finally break my mouth away from hers. We haven’t taken our relationship further than touching each other. I know Charleigh wants to sleep with me, but I haven’t felt like it’s the right time. I’d rather wait until I know there’s zero chance of her parents finding us. As much as I want her that way, I’m not rushing it.
“I have something for you,” I whisper.
“Oh, yeah?” She immediately perks. Her face lights up and she clasps her hands in front of her.
Digging inside the pocket of my coat, I find the small piece of metal and wrap my hand around it.
I grab Charleigh’s hand and open it, dropping the keychain into her palm. “Merry Christmas.”
Her mouth falls open in surprise, and her eyes dart up at me before landing back on her gift.
“Asher,” she breathes shakily, running her finger along the flower charm, up to the golden metal heart clasp. “A flower.”
“It’s little, I know.” My cheeks warm. I wanted to buy her the bigger size charm from the salesman working the booth at the mall, but I could only afford the smallest one.
“It’s okay.” Charleigh sniffs. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’re my flower, Charleigh,” I tell her, warmth spreading across my entire body. “My beautiful, little flower.”
She giggles, turning over the keychain in her hand several times. When she looks up at me, tears line her eyes again. “You didn’t have to get me anything for Christmas, Asher. You’re all I need.”
I shake my head. “It didn’t cost much. My neighbor, Mr. Greer, paid me to shovel his driveway last week, so I had enough to buy it.”
Her hands wrap around the keychain, and she holds it against her chest. “I love it. Thank you.”
“And I love you.” I wrap my hand around the back of her head again and give her another kiss.
She presses her mouth to mine, then pulls away.
“I want to show you something,” she whispers. The same smile I’m used to seeing on Charleigh is back. The keychain must have taken her mind off her parents.
I follow her across her room to where she falls to her knees in front of her bed. She digs under it and pulls out a cardboard box covered in pictures of flowers, pieced and glued together like a collage. She lifts the lid, pulls out a flower, and sits back on her heels. She grabs my hand and drops it into my palm.
“What is it?” I ask, inspecting it. The petals are white with outlines of pink. My knowledge of flowers isn’t as nearly extensive as Charleigh’s.
“A mountain laurel. Connecticut’s state flower. I picked it the first time I saw you.”
“You mean the day it was raining?”
“No, that wasn’t the first time.” She grins. “I noticed you before then.”
I smile back. “Me, too.”
Keeping the flower in my hand, I slide the box closer, peering inside. The air is sucked from my lungs when I realize what’s inside. I pick out one of the paper hearts.
“You kept all of these?” I ask, sifting through them. I look up to find her eyes on me.
“Of course.” She shrugs, allowing her hair to fall around her face. “Sometimes, when I’m having a bad day, I’ll go through them and try to find my favorite.”
“Which one is your favorite?” Part of me is shocked thinking how less than an hour ago I was cleaning up after my drunk mother, and now I’m sitting on the floor with the person I love most in the world. Knowing my paper hearts have meant something to Charleigh makes my heart swell a thousand times.
She places her hand in the box, moving the hearts around. “Every day, I have a different one. It never stays the same.”
“I never knew you kept them. I assumed you tossed them in the trash.”
“Why would I throw them away? It’s my favorite thing to wake up to in the morning.” Charleigh tilts her head to the side, studying me. I can feel her eyes wandering across my chest, my arms, my face. It’s as if she’s lighting every single piece of my body on fire. “You say you aren’t great with words, Asher. This is my proof you’re wrong.”
I swallow thickly. Fuck, I’m so in love with this girl, it’s terrifying .
“Can I ask you something?” I look down at the box of paper hearts. I don’t know why, but I’m nervous. My heart beats faster, thrumming against the walls of my ribs.
“Sure.”
“What made you fall in love with me?”
She cocks her head to the side. “I don’t get what you mean.”
“I mean…” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m not exactly the best man for you, Charleigh. I live in a trailer, and the few pieces of clothing I own all have too many holes for me to count. My phone barely works, and I have ten dollars in my wallet. I have nothing to offer you but these paper hearts.” I point to the box and scoot closer to Charleigh’s bed, my back pressed against the mattress.
She moves closer to me, too, pressing her body against mine. She hooks her fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at her. “I love you, Asher, and I couldn’t care less whether you’re poor or have all the money in the world.” She sighs, swiping her tongue across her mouth. Her lips glisten in the moonlight. Leaning forward, she plants a kiss on my cheek, then places the lid back onto the box and slides it back under the bed.
Grabbing my hand, she pulls me to a stand before sitting me down on her bed, where she straddles me, pressing both her hands to my face. She leans down, tucking her hair behind her ear. I keep her close, placing both of my hands on the small of her back. “I love you for the man you are, Asher, and for the man I know you’ll become.”
“I love you, too.” I run my fingers across her cheek. “What do you see in our future?”
“First, I see us graduating together, both of us with a business degree.” Her smile reaches her eyes.
“Yeah?” I whisper.
She nods, biting down on her lip. She rocks her hips, and I fight hard not to take it any further. Although I don’t want to sleep with Charleigh tonight, I won’t stop myself from feeling her this way. “After college, you’ll start your own real estate business and be New York’s most successful real estate executive.”
I smile, loving where Charleigh’s imagination is taking her.
She grips my shoulders and clutches the fabric of my shirt, pulling me up toward her. My shirt makes me remember what my life is like now. It’s hard to imagine there will ever be a time when I won’t be scrounging for pennies just to be able to buy food. A time when I won’t be living in a trailer.
“Where do you fit into this future of mine?” I ask.
With a serious expression, she brings her face to the crook of my neck. Her breath dances across my skin as she breathes me in, whispering against my flesh, “I’ll be with you, silly, surrounded by flowers and paper hearts.”
I grip the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair. “I like the sound of that.”
“I want you,” Charleigh says against my neck.
I dig my fingers into her back, rocking her hips against me. I swell under my jeans, and it takes everything in me to hold back. I groan, moving my hands to her face, pulling it up to mine.
Her eyebrows pull together, and I see the worry in her. It’s as if she’s afraid I’m going to disappear.
I pull her close. My fingers dip into her floral-scented hair. “I want you, too.” I swallow. “One day. But not tonight.”
She inhales a shaky, unsteady breath, but softly nods. “Okay.”
I place my lips to her, sending her another promise. Once she pulls her lips away from mine, we crawl under the sheets of her bed, tangling our limbs together. With her body sidled against mine, and her arms and legs draped over my body, we lay in silence, watching the snow fall outside her window and the clock turn to midnight .
“Merry Christmas, Little Flower,” I whisper, with my hand over hers, holding my keychain against my chest.
“Merry Christmas, Asher.”
Once Charleigh falls asleep, I stay for a few minutes. She always reminds me that this is her least favorite part of the night—when I have to leave. It’s my least favorite too, for multiple reasons. Most of all, because I don’t want to leave her and go home to my drunk mother, but also because of her parents. It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m terrified there will come a time when her parents come to check on her and find me lying in her bed.
Charleigh has her thigh bent over my leg, pinning me beneath her. Her arm is across my chest, and her head rests on it. I press my lips to the top of her head, and her hair still smells like flowers. I breathe her in, willing myself to remember this feeling before I start my walk back home in the bitter cold. My trailer smells of stale alcohol and mold. I kiss her one more time, then carefully slide out from underneath her.
I tiptoe across the room to her desk, opening the drawer to grab the things I need. I get the scissors, cutting the piece of paper into a small heart. Taking the pen next, I press it to the paper and glance over my shoulder.
Charleigh is still sound asleep, only her hushed breathing making any noise. The moon shines on her skin, the shadows of the falling snow dance across her body, and for a moment, I imagine a life where we’re both at our happiest. I can’t imagine a life without her in it. I’d be a fucking idiot to lose her. An absolute fucking idiot.
Here’s another heart for you to surround yourself with, Little Flower.
Flowers and paper hearts.
I flip the paper over and write the same message I always leave for her on the back.
From Asher, With Love
I fold the heart in half and tape it to the bottom of her window. I gently slide it open and get my footing on the trellis before stopping to look at Charleigh again. She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. My mother is wrong about her.
Charleigh could never ruin me.