Stories from the Back of His Motorcycle
She's sleeping like a child
“Have you been out here all day?” I rested a hand on my hip and looked at Vaughn critically. He was sat seemingly calmly on the pavement by his motorcycle, facing the sun and squinting up into my face. Flocks of other students passed by, sparing us curious looks. I was too busy examining Vaughn and wondering if he had really not moved all day to care, to bother hiding my irritation which would undoubtedly be weaved into some intricate rumour by lunch tomorrow.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I’m getting a ride home with Delia,” I was pleased with my monotone, with how impassive I sounded. Inside my emotions were all tumbling together in a rockslide, colliding with each other, leaving me breathless. The thought of Vaughn staying specifically for me, even though I was mad at him, made my toes curl in happiness.
“Tell her you’re catching one with me,” he said smoothly.
“I don’t think I will. I don’t think I want to go anywhere with you.”
“Why?” He knew why but I explained anyway as if he didn’t. As if neither of us really understood. It was nice to speak about something between us, even if it was my anger, to make it audible. More believable. Sometimes it was too easy to believe that everything with him was just in my head.
“You don’t tell me anything Vaughn. You don’t tell me why you started a fight when you only got hurt. You don’t tell me why you’re there every Saturday at the coffee shop. You don’t tell me how you are, if you’re okay, if you need anything. If I’m supposed to be your friend then shouldn’t you at least try to open up to me?”
“That’s why I’m waiting here Alice,” he got up slowly “now go and tell Delia that you’re coming home with me.”
I followed his gaze to where Delia was sitting in her car, staring at us suspiciously and fiddling with her hands to show how impatient she was. I waved at her, a goodbye wave, and motioned to Vaughn and then his motorcycle. Delia’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and I knew she would call later on to ask what the hell I was thinking. How Vaughn Hart was bad news and would break my heart and ruin my life. But, right then, I didn’t care.
She left after a few more seconds of glaring at us. It was uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of that infamous glower. I was used to it being directed at all the girls Josh talked to, at Josh himself, at the teachers’ backs, at anybody who dared to wear a shred of clothing that she had in her wardrobe. I shivered under it but managed to keep my smile unwavering.
As soon as she was out of sight, I turned back to Vaughn without that smile.
“I need to tell you something important Alice,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette. I watched his movements, noticing they were slightly jerky. He lit it and took a long gasping inhale. “And I want you to just listen and not butt in.”
“When do I ever butt in?” I scowled at him indignantly.
His level gaze met mine in a you’re-doing-it-right-now kind of way so I shut up. I was curious as to exactly what he would tell me, but also wary. I knew by the way his hands were shaking and he was puffing on his cigarette as if it would be his last one that it would be bad. But even so, I would accept him. He’d accepted me, broken home and all, he deserved the same. Just to know that he was willing to share was almost enough. I wanted a real glimpse at Vaughn Hart because, in reality, I knew about as much as the gossiping girls scattered around the parking lot.
“I have a heart disease called Atrial Fibrillation. They don’t expect me to last much longer.”
I was stunned into silence. I just stared at him, not believing one single word he was saying.
“My heart beats irregularly, has all my life, but gets worse every year. The doctors say that it’s as bad as a ninety year old man’s who has already had a stroke.”
His foot closed down over the cigarette he’d just thrown casually to the floor. I watched Vaughn commit such a normal crime – one that I’d failed to coax him out of – even after his life-altering words sunk in. He examined the various expressions that crossed against my face with wary eyes. Vaughn was worried I’d freak out. Start bawling. Start shouting. Start denying. But he should have known me better than that.
“So you’re dying? Well… that sucks.” My mind was rushing to compute his words. They seemed to keep rejecting them though.
“Not as much as the way everyone who knows treats me,” he visibly sagged, as if relieved I hadn’t run away. “That’s why I get away with murder, because everyone pities me too much to punish me. ‘He’s only got a little while left’ they say ‘let him make the most of it’.”
It all made sense. Horrific sense. I felt numb, as if it was so cold outside that my insides and emotions had all frozen into one big block of ice. But it was warm and there was sweat collecting on Vaughn’s forehead. I felt my moist palms but didn’t have the power to wipe them on my shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wished he could take back what he said or that I could forget. He frowned at me and suddenly it all felt like a joke. Vaughn couldn’t be dying. He was so strong and indestructible. Maybe he really was joking and any moment he would grin and shout “tricked you.”
But his frown continued. “Can you take me home now?” I asked quietly, wringing my hands together.
“Is that it?” Vaughn took a step closer to me “is that all you’re going to say? I shared like you wanted me to and all you’ve got to say is ‘take me home’?”
“This is bigger than just simply sharing ‘I like the colour blue and watching soap-operas’ Vaughn. I… I don’t know what you want from me.”
His eyes slid to the ground, shooting angry holes into the dirt. “I want you to know that I like you Alice. I don’t want to hide this from you anymore.”
My mind felt heavy, the world seemingly spinning in a blur of light under its weight. Vaughn was indestructible. Vaughn wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t be ill.
“I don’t believe you;” I narrowed my eyes “you’re just as healthy as anybody else. If this is your idea of some kind of sick joke, like that time you pretended to have ‘cramps’…” And then I remembered that he hadn’t been pretending and those probably hadn’t been cramps. That had probably been his heart.
“Oh my God,” I murmured in a roll of held breath.
“Yeah,” he raised his head to meet my eyes, dark hair falling sparsely across his forehead. I gulped back the lump in my throat, not wanting to cry, commanding myself not to cry.
The sick thing was that so much made sense. It made sense that Vaughn threw himself into smoking and drove recklessly on his motorcycle and cut classes and drank himself into oblivion and started obnoxious fights. He didn’t have anything to lose if death was rapidly approaching. People who had no fear knew no fear.
“God, Vaughn, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I was scared.” So apparently Vaughn still had the capacity to be afraid.
“Of what?”
“Of you not wanting to be with me because of it.” Even if he had the capacity to feel afraid over stupid things. “Of me not being accepted if everyone knew.”
I couldn’t get the words out past my enclosed throat. The oxygen passing into my lungs was constricted and I was gasping in every breath. Vaughn’s jaw clenched and he turned stiffly away. “I can take you home now.”
I only wrapped my arms around his body and held him tightly against me. It took Vaughn a few seconds to recuperate the gesture, gently kissing my forehead and lifting me slightly off of the ground. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, finally breathing him in. Feeling alive. Praying that he wouldn’t be taken away from me. Begging that he wouldn’t.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Waiting for you.”
“I’m getting a ride home with Delia,” I was pleased with my monotone, with how impassive I sounded. Inside my emotions were all tumbling together in a rockslide, colliding with each other, leaving me breathless. The thought of Vaughn staying specifically for me, even though I was mad at him, made my toes curl in happiness.
“Tell her you’re catching one with me,” he said smoothly.
“I don’t think I will. I don’t think I want to go anywhere with you.”
“Why?” He knew why but I explained anyway as if he didn’t. As if neither of us really understood. It was nice to speak about something between us, even if it was my anger, to make it audible. More believable. Sometimes it was too easy to believe that everything with him was just in my head.
“You don’t tell me anything Vaughn. You don’t tell me why you started a fight when you only got hurt. You don’t tell me why you’re there every Saturday at the coffee shop. You don’t tell me how you are, if you’re okay, if you need anything. If I’m supposed to be your friend then shouldn’t you at least try to open up to me?”
“That’s why I’m waiting here Alice,” he got up slowly “now go and tell Delia that you’re coming home with me.”
I followed his gaze to where Delia was sitting in her car, staring at us suspiciously and fiddling with her hands to show how impatient she was. I waved at her, a goodbye wave, and motioned to Vaughn and then his motorcycle. Delia’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and I knew she would call later on to ask what the hell I was thinking. How Vaughn Hart was bad news and would break my heart and ruin my life. But, right then, I didn’t care.
She left after a few more seconds of glaring at us. It was uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of that infamous glower. I was used to it being directed at all the girls Josh talked to, at Josh himself, at the teachers’ backs, at anybody who dared to wear a shred of clothing that she had in her wardrobe. I shivered under it but managed to keep my smile unwavering.
As soon as she was out of sight, I turned back to Vaughn without that smile.
“I need to tell you something important Alice,” he reached into his pocket and retrieved a cigarette. I watched his movements, noticing they were slightly jerky. He lit it and took a long gasping inhale. “And I want you to just listen and not butt in.”
“When do I ever butt in?” I scowled at him indignantly.
His level gaze met mine in a you’re-doing-it-right-now kind of way so I shut up. I was curious as to exactly what he would tell me, but also wary. I knew by the way his hands were shaking and he was puffing on his cigarette as if it would be his last one that it would be bad. But even so, I would accept him. He’d accepted me, broken home and all, he deserved the same. Just to know that he was willing to share was almost enough. I wanted a real glimpse at Vaughn Hart because, in reality, I knew about as much as the gossiping girls scattered around the parking lot.
“I have a heart disease called Atrial Fibrillation. They don’t expect me to last much longer.”
I was stunned into silence. I just stared at him, not believing one single word he was saying.
“My heart beats irregularly, has all my life, but gets worse every year. The doctors say that it’s as bad as a ninety year old man’s who has already had a stroke.”
His foot closed down over the cigarette he’d just thrown casually to the floor. I watched Vaughn commit such a normal crime – one that I’d failed to coax him out of – even after his life-altering words sunk in. He examined the various expressions that crossed against my face with wary eyes. Vaughn was worried I’d freak out. Start bawling. Start shouting. Start denying. But he should have known me better than that.
“So you’re dying? Well… that sucks.” My mind was rushing to compute his words. They seemed to keep rejecting them though.
“Not as much as the way everyone who knows treats me,” he visibly sagged, as if relieved I hadn’t run away. “That’s why I get away with murder, because everyone pities me too much to punish me. ‘He’s only got a little while left’ they say ‘let him make the most of it’.”
It all made sense. Horrific sense. I felt numb, as if it was so cold outside that my insides and emotions had all frozen into one big block of ice. But it was warm and there was sweat collecting on Vaughn’s forehead. I felt my moist palms but didn’t have the power to wipe them on my shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I wished he could take back what he said or that I could forget. He frowned at me and suddenly it all felt like a joke. Vaughn couldn’t be dying. He was so strong and indestructible. Maybe he really was joking and any moment he would grin and shout “tricked you.”
But his frown continued. “Can you take me home now?” I asked quietly, wringing my hands together.
“Is that it?” Vaughn took a step closer to me “is that all you’re going to say? I shared like you wanted me to and all you’ve got to say is ‘take me home’?”
“This is bigger than just simply sharing ‘I like the colour blue and watching soap-operas’ Vaughn. I… I don’t know what you want from me.”
His eyes slid to the ground, shooting angry holes into the dirt. “I want you to know that I like you Alice. I don’t want to hide this from you anymore.”
My mind felt heavy, the world seemingly spinning in a blur of light under its weight. Vaughn was indestructible. Vaughn wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t be ill.
“I don’t believe you;” I narrowed my eyes “you’re just as healthy as anybody else. If this is your idea of some kind of sick joke, like that time you pretended to have ‘cramps’…” And then I remembered that he hadn’t been pretending and those probably hadn’t been cramps. That had probably been his heart.
“Oh my God,” I murmured in a roll of held breath.
“Yeah,” he raised his head to meet my eyes, dark hair falling sparsely across his forehead. I gulped back the lump in my throat, not wanting to cry, commanding myself not to cry.
The sick thing was that so much made sense. It made sense that Vaughn threw himself into smoking and drove recklessly on his motorcycle and cut classes and drank himself into oblivion and started obnoxious fights. He didn’t have anything to lose if death was rapidly approaching. People who had no fear knew no fear.
“God, Vaughn, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I was scared.” So apparently Vaughn still had the capacity to be afraid.
“Of what?”
“Of you not wanting to be with me because of it.” Even if he had the capacity to feel afraid over stupid things. “Of me not being accepted if everyone knew.”
I couldn’t get the words out past my enclosed throat. The oxygen passing into my lungs was constricted and I was gasping in every breath. Vaughn’s jaw clenched and he turned stiffly away. “I can take you home now.”
I only wrapped my arms around his body and held him tightly against me. It took Vaughn a few seconds to recuperate the gesture, gently kissing my forehead and lifting me slightly off of the ground. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, finally breathing him in. Feeling alive. Praying that he wouldn’t be taken away from me. Begging that he wouldn’t.