It was a hot, sticky, too-close-for-comfort summer. It was the dead of the season, after the excitement of finally being free had come and gone but before the desperation to cram days full of memories before returning to school. A time of everlasting rosy cheeks and burnt back of the necks, of blisters between the big toes, of beads of sweat along hairlines, of little grains of sand sticking to the backs of calves. The days were long and seamless, cycling and flowing into one another like a deep breath, conscious yet effortless, full of life.
Jenna dangled her feet over the ledge, her heels hitting the cement wall and bouncing back into the open air. The sun hadn’t quite broke the surface of the water all the way, its orange yolk suspended across the lake. So sure, so dependable, Jenna knew the sun would always rise, always be there. She missed her mornings of coming to watch the sun rise on the lake, something she used to do with him when they were together. He taught her that she had something that could be relied on, no matter how tough the day before, something that could give itself to others and carry on. Not like him.
He was an anomaly to the rule of carefree days and perpetual motion of summer, he broke up her resolve, her heart, and her time. A long summer’s day, come and gone and on to the next.
It had started like every other summer day, shamelessly carbon copied and full of nothing. Jenna woke up at seven o’clock, like clockwork, to the annoying ring of the third alarm she had hardwired into her phone. Throwing on whatever nike shorts and home-cropped, cheesy running sloganed t-shirt was thrown over the desk chair, Jenna ran out her door and down the stairs, half asleep, to the kitchen. Per usual, a pot of coffee stayed steaming on the counter, evidence of her dad’s scatterbrained and frantic rush to work in the morning. Pouring herself a full cup, Jenna stepped outside onto her porch, leaning against the wooden railing. The sun was slowly climbing up over downtown, trapped and squeezed in the middle of of buildings. Too slow, Jenna decided, as she hastily drained her glass and grabbed her headphones before heading out the door for her morning run.
Jenna remembered the first time she saw him as she ran through the park, sitting on the top of a wooden picnic table with his pike propped up on the tree next to him. He was reading To Kill A Mockingbird, her favorite book. Buried in the pages, his black-rimmed glasses had slid down his nose, dangerously perched at the end where his nose ever so slightly curved up. She was sure he hadn’t noticed her, and why would he? She was just a girl running through the park. Nothing special, nothing exquisite. Average height, hair, and eyes, above average intelligence but how would he know that? Jenna stopped at the water fountain a few hundred feet past the table. She wiped her face with the front of her shirt before bending over and taking a drink from the cold, slightly rusty stream. Still looking at the fountain, she stretched her neck, bending it from side to side, pulling her arm across her chest. Then she turned around, back to the path. And there he was.
He introduced himself with a quiet confidence, reaching out his hand and saying simply with a low, soft voice,
“Elliot.”
“Jenna.”
“Hey.”
“Hey back,” she said with a smirk. “I see you’re a regular conversationalist.”
“Fair,” he laughed. “But I’m slightly distracted.”
She nodded at the pale green book he held in his other hand. “Yeah, I know, you can’t really break from Harper Lee. I’ll let you get back to Atticus.”
“Thats true, but I wasn’t distracted by Ms. Lee. I was distracted by you.”
Jenna felt her face turn even more red, thank god she was already flushed from her run. Flustered, she fumbled for words. “No, I look gross.”
“Didn't notice.” Jenna just laughed shyly, her beat up trainers suddenly becoming a lot more interesting. “So, where do you go to school?”
“Central. You?”
“Main East. But my best friend, Emily, goes to central.”
“Emily Brown?”
“Yeah.”
“No way! I have bio with her. She’s awesome.”
“Yeah, she is.” There was a pause. “So how come we’ve never met before? I mean, at least, I don’t think I’ve seen you at any games or anything,” said Jenna.
“Yeah, I’m more of the music type, I generally don’t go to any of the big games.” Jenna nodded her head. “But, actually, I think I have seen you before...Were you at that Purple Door concert last week?”
“Yeah I was, they’re, like, my favorite band. Emily got me into them. And, wait, how’d you know?”
“Well, normally, I don’t walk up and ask pretty girls for their numbers. ESPECIALLY when she’s surrounded by a blockade of girls.” He laughed nervously, and this time it was Jenna who found a reserve of bravado.
“Well thats too bad, you never know when you’ll get a shot.” She smiled.
“How about now?”
“Ooh, and you’re smooth, too” Jenna grinned.
“Oh, okay, well I just thought I’d give it a try.”
“Hey, I didn't say no, did I? I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“So youre one of those girls” he winked. “I’ll call you sometime.” Jenna’s smile spread. “Okay.”
He called the next night. Jenna picked up the phone on the third wring, not knowing what to expect on the other side of the line. Certainly not an ask about her plans later that night. Certainly not an invitation to hang out alone. And certainly not him laughing and understanding at her attempt at sarcasm over the complete openness of her nights.
Their first date was a summer jump off the dock and into a lake. There were the nerves, the second-guessing, the should-I’s, the shaking with anticipation. Her sister helped her pick out an outfit before their plans. As the two held up shirts and debated dress code (casual? No too sloppy...fancier? No, too put together), her sister spoke over her shoulder.
“So, who is he?”
“Just some guy,” she responded. The pitch of her voice betrayed her subconscious. He was more than just “some guy.” And her sister knew it. In the two times that they’d talked, Jenna felt…different. She was standing a little bit taller, chin held a little bit higher, eyes a little bit brighter. Don’t rush into this, Jenna, she thought. This isn’t even a real date. We are just hanging out. She sat down on her comforter. Suddenly, her phone vibrated. He was here. She ran down her hallway, down the wooden stairs, and paused to catch her breath before opening the front door.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“So what are we doing tonight?”
“You tell me.”
“Alright.”
They walked down, past the park, to the string of vintage shops and foodie restaurants that cut through the urban sprawl of the city.
“In here,” he said. Jenna walked into an old bookstore, a labyrinth of ceiling height shelves and countless volumes of all genres and languages.
“I like to just come here and think,” he said. “I like feeling like… I dunno, like,”
“Like you don't have to have everything figured out and know everything?” Jenna cut in.
He looked at her. “Exactly.” They left the store and just walked around the neighborhood, darting in and out of anonymous curio and record stores in the warm summer night air. They turned back towards Jenna’s house, and Elliott stopped them on the corner. He grabbed her hand, lacing her fingers through his.
“I had a great time tonight, Jenna.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Then there was a moment of silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Not an awkward space or vacuum of things to say, but a mutual understanding. He leaned in, kissed her softly, and then looked into her eyes.
“Night,” he said. “Call me later?”
“Of course. Night,” she smiled. And then Jenna was falling, falling, falling for him.
The next couple weeks were a summer afternoon, an indefinity of summer of having both nothing and everything to do, . It did not matter what they did, going to the beach, lying in the park, going to the pier, or just talking. As long as they were together, the sun was shining, the times were good.
Then there was the talk. A late summer’s night, coming out of nowhere and falling into darkness fast. They sat on her porch swing, rocking back and forth in the otherwise still air. The darkness exposing the hidden sides of his she did not want to see, did not want to know, better left as shadows that could follow them in the daylight. Elliot was, for better or for worse, brutally honest. More honest and truer and more sincere than anyone Jenna had ever met. For better or for worse, Elliot always said what was on his mind. And that transparency came at the price of hurting and being hurt. All it took were a handful of words to make Jenna question everything that had gone down over the past few weeks.
“C’mere,” he said, putting his arm around her and forcing her to meet his gaze. “So, um, where exactly do you think this is going?”
Jenna had to look away. It was the dreaded conversation that she knew would either make her fantasies a reality or break her heart. After a moment, she looked back at him.
“I don’t really know, Lee. I mean, I know I really like spending time with you and really like you as a person. What are you looking for right now?”
“See that’s the thing Jenna. I dont know what Im looking for. I dont know what Im ready for or willing to commit to. I really like you too, obviously. But, but I’m caught, caught between two, two….,” he trailed off.
“Two what's, I’m confused.” Jenna pulled his arm off around her, swinging to face him fully and squarely. “Two what's, Elliot.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Jenna. Either of us to get hurt. Can we just, you know, chill and be friends?” Those two words, be friends, hit Jenna like a truck.
“I mean… sh-sure,” she stammered. “I mean, I can do that. I mean, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do or make you unhappy. Yeah, thats fine. Just friends. Yeah. ”
He looked taken aback. “Wait, you mean you’re fine with it?”
“Yep, I mean I understand, I guess.”
“Hmm.” More silence. Jenna broke it.
“So just wondering, Elliot, what were these past few weeks exactly?”
“What do you mean?” he asked. Jenna just looked at him, not saying anything and arching one of her eyebrows. His cheeks flushed. “Stupid question. I know what you mean. These past weeks were me trying to get you know you, really. To get to know myself and see what I want. To see if you fit into that. And i just really don't know what else to say to you. Do you want me to go?”
“No. I don't want you to go. But I think it would be best for right now. I need time to think.”
“Understood,” he said, rocking himself up from the seat of the swing. “So, I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Call me when you’re ready?”
“Sure.” Then out of nowhere, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her head into his chest as he hugged her.
“Sorry, I had to that. Thanks for making it so easy on me, Jenna. You really are something special.” And then he was gone.
It had ended like a summer storm, building, building, building up and then finally breaking with flashes of light and bombardments of sound. And, after the clouds clear, the empty slot of time where the energy can still be felt in the air and everything is waiting to see if the storm will return, if it was or is, if they were truly finished. There was the post-storm analysis, combing through the events preceding the storm to see if there were any signs hinting at the disaster to come. Jenna remembered the constant texting, the mysterious distractions. She remembered he only held her hand when they were alone, never in a place where they could run into his friends. Tell tale indicators that something else, different from what Jenna was imagining, was going on.
Jenna swung her feet back up to the top of the ledge and got up, throwing her bag over one shoulder. She looked out again across the water, the sun now eye level, meeting her gaze. Should I call him?, she thought. After all, it had been a week. And she missed him. His goofy laugh, the way his nose wrinkled when he was concentrating, the way his arm brushed against her shoulder when they walked side by side. But she remembered the disappointment, the subliminal comments, the unspoken words of that night. The still stinging jab of being lead on and let down. Some things are better left alone, left to be dried out and preserved by the sun. The one who sees all, hears all. The one who, every time, will be there to begin and start the summer days.
