The Only Thing On My Wishlist

Watching a girl cry is excruciating, but listening to her cry, knowing that there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make it better, that’s much, much worse. I’d resigned myself to sitting outside her room, listening to her muffled sobs through her closed door, taking comfort only in the fact that the sound meant she was still in there.

Sometime between Lucy pacing the length of the living room while we waited for Henry and Trisha to get back from dinner and my wandering off to stand outside this very bedroom, Elliot had burst into the house, hands covering her wet, red face, and shot up the stairs like a bullet with Lucy just a few steps behind her, begging her to stop walking, to talk to her.

It took less than five minutes for her to come stomping back down the stairs, a sour look on her face.

“She doesn’t want to talk,” she’d told Max and I, lips pursed in displeasure. “I don’t know what to do. She can’t just leave.”

I didn’t point out to her that Elliot could really do whatever the hell she wanted, because it didn’t seem like the opportune moment to play know-it-all.

I wandered off as soon as Max and Lucy started cuddling on the couch, still waiting for Henry and Trisha, because the sight was nauseating. Though as soon as I was upstairs, I couldn’t figure out what was worse—watching them cuddle, or listening to Ellie cry. Probably the latter.

I wanted to say something, to fix it, but I didn’t know how, and even if I did, I seriously doubted that she wanted to hear from me. Just because she was back didn’t make it any less clear that she’d chosen Grant.

The dull thud of something heavy hitting the carpet echoed from behind her door, followed shortly by a half-sob, half-scream. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I listened to her footsteps patter across the carpet, followed by a crash and a frustrated cry, before I finally pushed myself to my feet and slowly pushed open her unlocked door.

Her room was a sight to behold. Clothes were strewn across the floor, one of her dresser drawers atop a small heap, her jewelry box in shambles a few feet from her bed, where she was curled up like a child, her face buried into her pillow and her body shaking with every sob.

“Elliot?” I said softly, sitting gingerly on the edge of her bed.

She scrambled up, kneeling beside me, chest heaving, with her back pressed against the wall. Her face was entirely red, and her ares were full and wet. She inhaled almost violently, all of the air rushing into her with a quick, surprised gasp, almost as though it was the first real breath she’d experienced since she got home.

“I’m sorry.” As soon as the words passed her lips, a new round of tears started. She pressed a hand over her mouth, muffling her sobs as she folded herself forward, pressing her forehead against her knees. She was still speaking, her words stifled and incoherent.

I took a deep breath, almost unable to look at her in such a state. I didn’t know what to do in these types of situations, not like Lucy, especially when it was Elliot, who, on any other day of the week, wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.

Hesitantly, I placed my hand on her back, rubbing slow circles against the fabric of her sweater. She shook, her breath sputtering within her, and then turned her head to the side to look up at me.

“He shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” she whispered, her eyes focused on my sweater rather than my face.

“No, he shouldn’t have spoken to you like that,” I corrected her instantly. “And he shouldn’t touch you like that. He’s a complete bastard, Elliot.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, as though that might change the facts before us.

“Don’t apologize to me,” I replied. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. Whatever he said to me was my own doing. It’s not you who should be apologizing, and it’s not to me that the apologies need to be made. He doesn’t treat you right, not at all. He acts like you’re some sort of property, and you’re not. You’re a human being, and just because he’s willing to fight for you doesn’t mean he deserves you.”

She didn’t respond, didn’t look at me, but I knew she was listening.

“I think you need to… to break up with him.”

She sat up suddenly, her eyes flashing. “Don’t tell me what I need to do,” she snapped heatedly. “You don’t even know him, or anything about our relationship, so don’t pretend to. You barely even know me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t lie to yourself, Elliot. I know you. I may not know you well, but I know you well enough to say that you don’t deserve to be treated that way, that you deserve so much better—”

She scoffed. “And what’s so much better? You? Are you what I deserve?” she pressed cruelly. “What makes you think you’re any better than him?”

A shocked silence settled around us, and I could see her visibly shrinking. Her shoulders hunched, and she hung her head low, her hair hiding her face.

“I know you’re upset,” I finally said, choosing my words carefully. “I’m not going to let you get me angry just so you can have a fight, just because you need something to take your mind off the matter at hand.” I slid off her bed, stopping momentarily to turn back and say, “But I think you should know that he doesn’t deserve you, and you don’t need to waste time crying over some wanker who doesn’t even realize how good he has it with you. You put up with so much bullshit from him, and he really deserves a swift kick in the bollocks from everyone who cares about you for what he puts you through. You’re too pretty to cry over that prick, and it makes me angrier than you’ll ever imagine to think about what he might have said to make you this upset. Because I care about you.”

She stared up at me, her eyes glassy but her cheeks dry. She looked miserable, like a cat pulled from a cold bath, and I knew she wanted to say something. I could see her mind working behind those eyes, but she didn’t speak. Not until I was almost at her door.

“Josh?”

I paused, hand on the knob, and turned back.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered. “I can’t… I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I knew it wasn’t a good idea. Her boyfriend could have shown up at any given moment and found me in her room and completely lost it. But I couldn’t say no to her.

I crossed the room agonizingly slow, kicking off my shoes on the way and leaving them in the middle of her disaster area of a floor. She slid under her heavy quilt as I sat on the edge of her bed once again and stretched my legs out in front of me. My weight caused the mattress to sink on my side, and she shifted, her back pressing against my leg as she faced the wall.

She took a deep, shaky breath, one I both heard and felt because of our proximity. “Thanks. Just… for being here.”

I tried to relax against the pillow, but I was afraid that any sudden movement would break Ellie. All I could do was lay there uncomfortably, listening closely to her erratic breathing that seemed to be evening out, silently wondering if she could feel the draft coming from her window. For all I know she could be shivering right now, but you couldn’t tell with the aftershock of the tears still shaking through her.

I hadn’t realized how hard staying would really be because all I wanted to do was comfort her and hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, but I knew I couldn’t—I  mean, I shouldn’t. She just had a fight with her boyfriend and the last thing I needed was her thinking I was trying to put the moves on her, even if it was her idea for me to stay in the first place. I just had to keep reassuring myself that being here for her was enough.

I felt her shift under the blanket, her body jerking away from me only long enough for her to switch sides. Her chest caved in and out slowly as she pushed her body closer to mine. She hesitantly brought her hand to my stomach, softly resting it over the fabric of my shirt. I took a deep breath before lifting my arm, gently wrapping it around her shoulders. She slid in even closer as she placed her head on top of my chest and all I could do was swallow the knot in my throat.

My mind fell blank at that moment. The only thing I really knew was that my heart was racing and I was positive she could hear it. I could honestly say that no girl has ever made me as nervous as Elliot Green. Everything about her made me question everything I did or said. It was like she had this hold over me and I wasn’t so sure if I ever wanted to let go.

When she fell asleep, I was almost relieved, but not completely. The fact that she was clutching onto my shirt for dear life meant I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It wasn’t like I wanted to leave, but I knew I had to. If Trish, or Henry walked in, I’d probably be dead and let’s not forget about Lucy. I knew I’d be getting a few choice words from her.

I finally decided—twenty minutes later—that I should probably get up and as I went to pull Ellie’s hand away from my shirt, I heard her door creak open and all I could do was brace myself for whoever it was.

“WHAT THE HELL—”

I hoped the light streaming in from the hall was enough for Lucy to see my finger glued tightly to my lips. I didn’t need her waking Elliot up, not as I was leaving because then I’d just feel like a complete twat. I tried my hardest to get off the bed without making more noise than I needed to. I watch nervously as Ellie relaxed into the newly freed space, and sighed in relief before slipping my shoes back on.

“What the hell is going on?” Lucy whisper-yelled as I quietly shut Ellie’s door.

“She was upset.” I shrugged, not wanting to go into the specifics. Lucy would hardly let me get away with that, so I avoided her eye as I moved out into the hall, closing Ellie’s door softly behind me. “She asked me to stay. I stayed.”

“She asked you…to stay?” She asked skeptically, her eyebrows raised as I started to walk down the stairs.

“Is that hard to believe?” I questioned.

“A little bit, yeah.”

I rolled my eyes, stepping off the last stair and grabbing my coat. “I’m tired, Luce. I’m going home.”

“No.” She tried to stop me, but I was already lunging at the door. “Josh, you can’t just leave. We need to discuss what happened up there. Why was she crying?”

I stared back at her dumbly, a shiver shaking through me as I stood half on her porch and half inside her house. “Why do you think she was crying?”

But before she could answer, I was already halfway down her driveway, keys in hand with my eyes set on my car. Of course, the fact that I’d expected Lucy to let me get away was almost laughable. She scrambled down the driveway after me, shouting my name, her feet slipping against the ice.

I stopped, turning to face her as she slid to a stop.

“What’s going on, Josh?” she demanded. “Tell me. What did she say to you? And why you? Why would she talk to you and not me?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. She didn’t choose me, she didn’t not choose you. It was only me because I was there. I was the one who went in, Luce. That was it.”

“She didn’t say anything about Grant?” she pressed.

“No,” I lied. Then, feeling guilty, I corrected myself. “I mean, nothing important. She just… apologized for him. Said he shouldn’t have spoken to me like that—to any of us like that. She’s real upset is all.”

Lucy sighed. “She didn’t say whether or not she’s going with him?”

I pulled at the collar of my sweater, glancing at my feet. “Erm, no,” I admitted hesitantly. “And I didn’t want to ask.”

She nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Okay,” she mumbled. “D’you… D’you think I should leave her be for the night?”

“Yeah, let her sleep it off. Talk to your dad and her mum, see what they think.”

“Trish isn’t going to like this,” she mused, one eyebrow raised. “I don’t want to be the one to tell her. She’ll absolutely flip.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But she might be the only one who can talk some sense into her. She knows her better than we do, knows the whole situation better than we do, and Ellie listens to her.”

“I guess,” she mumbled, rubbing her forehead.

I sighed, wrapping her in a quick hug. “Don’t fret too much, love. She’ll be fine.”

“Oi! Quit tryin’ to cop a feel!” Max called from the porch.

Lucy giggled, ruffling my hair as she pulled away. “He’s got a point, you pervy bastard. You’re the only guy I know who’s been kicked out of a girly shop.”

“That was a complete misunderstanding!” I protested, outraged.

She just grinned, backing up the slick driveway slowly, taking careful steps. “We’ll call you tomorrow, yeah? Let you know how it goes.”

“Better,” I replied. “Or I might just show up on your doorstep.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” she warned. “Because if that twat’s here, he’ll kick your arse from here to Hong Kong.”

“Not if I kick his first!” I shouted, my words traveling up the driveway to where she now stood with Max.

She just laughed, and the two of them turned and walked inside, leaving me alone at my car. I wasn’t looking forward to the drive home, mostly because home meant I wouldn’t be near Ellie.