It's A Shame I'm A Dream

The funeral came and went quickly; Aiden arrived, along with a large number of people he knew from school, and they sat outside on fold-up chairs as a man stood in front and spoke to them. Aiden was glad he’d worn a sweater, as the morning was overcast and bitter. A few classmates, mostly freshman girls, rose and delivered eulogies usually accompanied with tears. Aiden wasn’t sure if it was for show or what, and he stayed quiet. It turned out that her body had been cremated, ashes in a pristine white urn decorated in black floral designs. After the formal business was over and everyone was mingling, Aiden hovered momentarily by the urn, thinking wistfully of how it used to be the five-foot-two body of a pretty young girl. He even exchanged a few words with Taylor’s parents: Mr. and Mrs. Weiss were very somber, but nevertheless gracious hosts. He waited for them to mention anything about him or the letters, but they either forgot it or never knew. He did not push the subject.

Thanksgiving also flew by in a blur and melted into December. There wasn’t anything special done, Mrs. Walker merely cooked up a rather small turkey and bowl of mashed potatoes. That night, they started and finished a game of Monopoly, with Aiden being the uncontested winner. He actually managed to forget Taylor and his troubles for that time, and felt content at the world as he laughed along with his mother when Brad landed on some of her property.

And before he knew it, Christmas was one week away. Aiden, once again remembering the letters, had no time to pursue them. If he wasn’t studying for his finals, he was fighting to raise his more mediocre grades.

Finally the last test – AP history on a Friday – was collected and the clock ticked down the last three minutes of class. Once the bell rang, he was out the door, arguing with friends about the difficulty of the test. Taylor’s death seemed so far away, so long ago, and for the first time in days he felt normal again.

Mauryssa Sage, a girl from his AP history class, approached Aiden as he was debating the answer to question thirty-nine with Chase.

“Hey, Aiden,” she said shyly; Mauryssa was a petite girl, only about five-foot-five as a junior. They usually didn’t talk much in or out of class, but Aiden turned to her in bright spirits.

“What’s up?” he said.

“Just wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow night and hang out.” She twirled a lock of curly reddish-brown hair self-consciously.

“Yeah, for sure,” Aiden replied.

Mauryssa’s face broke into a smile. “See you then.”

As she walked off, Chase stared from her retreating back to Aiden’s face. “I think she likes you, man,” he said wisely.

Aiden shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s cool.” He didn’t really feel like planning ahead or over thinking things. He’d done a tad too much of that lately, and, though he regretted none of it, it nagged at him. Chase rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

“All right, I’m headed home,” said Aiden, holding up a hand in farewell. “See you guys!”
They all – their group – hugged goodbye and Aiden departed, a grin on his face for the holidays on the horizon.

It was an hour later, and he was still talking to Mauryssa.

She’d called his cell on his way home and he’d answered, figuring there wasn’t much else to do during the solitary walk. Even though he’d been expecting a conversation with forced laughs and awkward silences, there were very few of these. She had an opinion for nearly everything.

One hand was clutching the phone to his ear and the other was flipping through the TV shows. There wasn’t anything good on.

“I really don’t understand the concept of space pens,” quipped Mauryssa after he mentioned the commercial.

“They’re supposed to work upside-down, too.”

“Don’t all pens do that?”

“No, the ink would run to the bottom.”

“No way.”

“Way.” Suddenly he heard a car door slam in the front yard and two pairs of footsteps.
Mauryssa scoffed. “Before I met you, I’ve been thinking all pens could work upside-down.”

Aiden yawned quietly and stretched out on the full length of the couch, his feet hanging over the armrest on the opposite side. He idly wished he had a girl to lay with him. “Yeah.” Sadly, he realized he was getting bored of their nonsense speech circles. The front door lock clicked, and he heard Brad’s voice. “Look – ah – I have to go.”

“Okay, so, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, feeling a tiny bit bad for her hopeful demeanor. “Bye.” He tossed his phone onto the coffee table just as Mrs. Walker and Brad made their entrance.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Aiden. Have a good day at school?” Mrs. Walker traipsed into the kitchen with a bag of groceries and the sound of keys being dropped onto the countertop reached Aiden’s ears.

“Yeah. I’m so glad it’s break, though.” But what to do, what to do.

“Me, too.” Mrs. Walker reappeared and trudged wearily up the stairs.

Brad also walked in from the kitchen and sat on the floor in front of the couch, taking the remote and turning on the TV.

Aiden remembered something. “Hey – what happened between you and that one chick?”

A funny sort of grin spread over Brad’s face. He was doing a poor job if he were trying to conceal it. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that,” Aiden said, fishing through his pockets in an absent search for any belongings while fixing his stare on Brad’s profile.

“Okay, fine. We’re together now.”

“Did you do what I said to?” Aiden asked curiously, wondering if Taylor’s advice really was true.

“Yeah.”

“And…?”

“And I guess she got happy and we started hanging out more.” He upped the volume on the rerun of Dirty Jobs, making it clear he didn’t feel like sharing the details of his success.

Aiden left and climbed the stairs to his room. Even his little brother’s life was more interesting than his at the moment. His plans for the break included an idea of going out – Brad’s probably required him to never be home.

The folder of letters beckoned him eagerly from his desktop, where he’d put them a few days ago. He retrieved these and sat back on his bed, holding them gingerly in his hands. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to continue his journey through Taylor’s year, not when she was nothing he’d originally expected.

He opened the folder and a new, unread page smiled at him from the top of the pile.

All he wanted was a girl he could love, he knew that now. He could feel that the immaturity of his age was slipping away from him. He imagined Taylor’s had been taken from her a long time ago.