Heart Beat

I’m sitting in my living room with the laptop across my knees. I’m talking to Alex. We’re not talking about anything in particular, just stuff. But I’ve been thinking lately…I shouldn’t have lied to Alex about my age. It’s been eating me alive. I can’t take it anymore. My computer dings and a message from Alex says, “hey I gtg. Talk later!” Wait…NO! He can’t go! I quickly type, “Wait. I have to tell you something. But promise you won’t hate me for it?”
Ding “I promise. What is it?”
“Well…remember how I told you I’m fifteen?”
Ding “Yeah”
“Well I’m kind of…not.”
No answer.
“Are you mad?”
Ding “How old are you”
“13.”
Ding “No. I’m not mad. But I still have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at the Castle.” And he signs off. Just like that. I want to slap myself. How could I have been so stupid!!! Why hadn’t I just told him the truth in the first place?! I slam my computer shut and stomp up the stairs. Flinging myself onto my bed, I stare at the wall. I’ll run tonight.
****************
1:15. My beat-up old sneakers pound the road like horse hooves. Wind through my hair. Tears in my eyes. A vile taste on the roof of my mouth. I’m an idiot. I lied. I’m a horrible person. How could I have lied to Alex? Sweet, perfect, amazing Alex. He doesn’t deserve that. He hates me. He should. I would understand if he never said another word to me as long as he lived. I would deserve that. It would probably destroy me, but I would deserve it and understand it.
Faster, Yana! Faster! I don’t understand my need to run. Maybe, if I go just a big farther…if I push just a little more…I can get away. I’ve always run away from my problems. When I’m running, it’s like they don’t even exist. Because I’m faster than they are, and they can’t catch me. But Memory is fast. Faster than I am. Every corner I turn, every hill I run over, it’s waiting there for me. The Memory of all my past mistakes.
My breath is coming in short, ragged patches now. It’s hard to tell if the wind is making my eyes water, or if I’m just leaking. Leaking pain onto my cheeks. Shame. Guilt. Failure. Because I failed him. I failed everyone.
Faster. Farther. Don’t stop. Run away. Yana, go. And I go. I go until I collapse from the burning pain in my legs. I go until I’m kneeling on the ground, sobbing from the pain in my legs and in my heart. My pale blue wrist watch blinks its innocent eyes at me. I can see its thoughts. They leap out at me, tackling me, forcing me to look them in the eye.
He won’t ever love you now.
He wouldn’t have, even if you had told the truth.
You don’t deserve him.
He’s too good for you.
The pain in my heart is too much. I’m shaking. No! You’re wrong! Nooo!!!
“No!” I don’t realize that I have spoken aloud. My words echo around me. I finally stop crying enough to look around.
I know this place. I know the big pine tree in the corner, and the black fence. I know the gravel driveway, and the white-washed garage. I know the bushes around the porch, and the painted brown swing. I grew up here, in Timmy’s yard. His mother would bake cookies and we’d fight over the last one. We used to swim, and climb trees, and play little-kid games like Hide and Seek or It Tag. He was my best friend. But all that was before I moved to West Mifflin. And before running and soccer started taking up all my time. It was long before Alex, the Memory, and long before this pain. Can I still talk to him the way I used to? I’ll take a chance.
I walk up to the back door and ring the bell.