The Sun Also Sets

“John you have to sit still!”

He groaned, “Hayden, I’ve been sitting here for hours!”

She looked at her watch, “It’s been twenty minutes.”

He shrugged, “Don’t you just want to go party with our friends? They’re right outside, can’t you hear how much fun they’re having!?”

“You promised me last week that you would help me with this and you fell asleep every time I tried. It’s due on Monday!” she said.

He sighed and sat back on the stool in her small bedroom, “Fine.”

“I’m not going to paint you with that frown,” she told him.

John returned his face to the solemn expression he had as he tilted his head slightly away. He could still see her as she concentrated on the perfect swirls of her paint brush. God, she was beautiful.

“Almost done, baby,” she said. It took her another few minutes before she finally let out a deep breath that told John she was finished. He stood and met her on the other side of the canvas.

He looked at the painting of himself, “Wow, I am one beautiful man.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m so going to get an A.”

He kissed her temple where a dab of red paint had dried, “Glad I could help.”

“I just need to change before we go down there,” she said, walking to her closet.

“No,” he stopped her, sitting down on the stool she had been sitting on and pulling her into his lap, “You have to sign it.”

She smiled at him and held the pencil in her hand. John shaped his own hand around her smaller one as she carefully wrote her name in a semi-legible script.

Hayden looked at him once more before kissing his cheek and finishing her signature with one simple sign that meant everything to the subject as well as the painter.

Hayden shaded in the piece over and over, staring down at it disapprovingly. She sighed, erasing it for the thousandth time. She had finished the complete structure of his face an hour ago, and was very pleased at the organized mess that was his hair she had perfectly emulated on her sketch pad.

She was so close to being done, but she couldn’t get the eyes. Something was wrong every time she drew them.

The phone in her room rang and she answered it, giving a frustrated, “Hello?”

“Hayden,” the woman at the front said, “You were supposed to meet Dr. Roberts in the courtyard fifteen minutes ago.”

“I’ll be right down,” she mumbled before hanging up. She didn’t leave until she had finished it and signed it. She put the sketch pad down on her bed in haste, still not completely pleased, and put on her shoes before walking quickly to the courtyard.

Hayden wasn’t sure why her therapist wanted to meet her in the courtyard rather than in her room. The yard was half inside half out, and it was pretty hot outside. But Hayden wouldn’t complain, they served excellent food in that part of the center.

But when she turned the corner her shoes came to such a stop she actually made a skidding sound along the tile. His back was facing her as he spoke to Dr. Roberts at a small round table. She spotted Hayden immediately and waved her over.

She took in a deep breath and clenched and unclenched her fists over and over. A sweat had broken out along her palms and the back of her neck felt cold. The hot day suddenly turned freezing with the tension.

“Hayden, you’re late,” Dr. Roberts said. Hayden went to sit in the seat between John and her doctor but she stood, “Take my seat.”

She sat in Dr. Robert’s seat so now she was facing John. He was severely slouched in the chair and his arms were stretched out as he played with his fingers. He was wearing a white tank top and skinny jeans. Sunglasses were over his eyes but he removed them when Dr. Robert’s started speaking.

“I brought John today-”

“Was this necessary?” Hayden cut her off.

Dr. Roberts gave her a patient smile, “It is the most necessary part of your treatment.”

Hayden finally looked up and saw John was looking at her with anxious eyes. She remembered the last time they were together, when he sang her the song that broke him down to his simplest form: hopeless.

Dr. Roberts continued, “John and I have been meeting almost every day for the last two weeks.”

“You have been talking about me?” she asked, slightly offended.

“Yes,” she replied, “But only because I have been trying to help John. We talk about you just like you and I talk about John.”

“So why is he here?”

“John?” Dr. Roberts said, bringing him into the conversation.

“I—well, Dr. Roberts said it was one of your final steps in therapy, to confront the problem. And I am the problem,” he said.

“Before we say anymore, I want you, Hayden, to know, that John has been trying, and I hope you’ll give him the credit.”

Hayden seriously contemplated it, and let out a breath that she wasn’t sure how long she had been holding in. John was watching her closely, and if she didn’t know any better, she would feel bad for him.

“Fine.”

Dr. Roberts smiled triumphantly although she hadn’t really accomplished a thing, “John, tell Hayden how you felt the night she jumped.”

It took him a long time to speak and Hayden didn’t understand. Was he trying to come up with a lie? No, he was probably trying to word it carefully so her feelings weren’t hurt.

“I felt relieved.”

He obviously didn’t succeed in not hurting her feelings.

“And... like it was justified.”

She let out a scoff that was more like an unbelieving laugh and shook her head, “Wow.”

Dr. Roberts held her hand out, palm facing Hayden, telling her to wait. “Why did you feel that way?”

“Well, I thought she was dead. Halvo didn’t tell me otherwise and I felt like she finally got what she deserved,” John said.

“Why did she deserve that?”

“Because I blamed her for Grace’s death,” he said, swallowing what was probably his pride.

“Well, she was driving the car. If Grace hadn’t been in that car she would still be alive,” Dr. Roberts said casually.

Hayden knew her well enough to know she was using some form of sick reverse psychology. But John didn’t.

“But it’s still not Hayden’s fault.”

“How? Didn’t you just think that not long ago?” she asked.

“Well… yeah. But I mean, it’s not like she did it on purpose,” John said.

Now it was time for Hayden to grill him. And this wasn’t reverse psychology. “Do you really expect me to believe that you’ve had some recent change of heart? I heard those words you said to me, John.”

He looked at the therapist for some kind of back up but she just waited for an answer. He spoke to the table when he talked, “Sometimes… I get these moments where I get really angry at you. Like it starts all over again. But sometimes I see how wrong I am.”

“The fact that you still believe I killed her is enough to prove that you haven’t changed,” she spat.

“I never believed that!” he shouted, “I forced myself to believe it because it was the easiest way out.”

“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes.

Dr. Roberts stepped in, “No, no, Hayden I think he’s right. Deflection is a major coping mechanism. You should know that, Hayden.”

Hayden tried to accept this, “I understand that I was the closest person to deflect blame to, but…”

She struggled to finish and John knew what was coming, so he finished for her, “Didn’t I love you enough?”

“You threw it away so quickly…” she said quietly, now uncomfortable by the doctor’s presence.

“Being around you was too hard,” he said.

“So you forced yourself to fall out of love with me?”

He looked at her in disbelief, “I guess I lied about that too.”

“John…” Dr. Roberts warned and Hayden sensed he had orders to not bring up the tragic romance they had so eloquently demanded.

“Why did I have to take all of your hate on to my shoulders? Why couldn’t you take the blame?” she asked.

“I have been for the past few months,” he said shakily.

Dr. Roberts sat up, an obvious breakthrough from John’s lips, “What have you been blaming yourself for the past few months?”

“For Hayden trying to kill herself, obviously,” he said.

“You said it was justified and you were relieved, John! That’s not something a guilty person says,” Hayden said.

“That’s because I didn’t feel guilty then! But then Halvo told me how horrible you were doing… and I felt jealous.”

“Jealous?” she asked, her eyes wide in complete disbelief, almost laughable, really.

“I was jealous that Eric was putting you back together. That you were watching movies and that he got to hold your hand. I was jealous that you were talking to Kennedy. I felt like you jumping was a cry for help,” John admitted.

“Was it, Hayden?” Dr. Roberts asked.

She felt the red rise on her cheeks, not a blush—a sign she was flustered. “A cry for help would mean I planned on failing.”

Silence. The two others were stunned, but it should have been obvious. She planned on never having to see John again, she was ready to be appeased of all the stress and depression in her life.

John eyes overflowed with tears but he made sure to dab them away and keep anymore from falling. She had finally cut him to the core, and it felt good. Not that she was taking an appreciation for seeing him broken, but maybe he finally knew how it felt.

“Do you see how that upset John?” Dr. Roberts asked, not accusatory, just actually wondering.

“Of course I can see it.”

“Well what do you feel about it? Do you feel bad? Hayden, don’t you realize how much it upset him?” she asked, practically begging her to understand.

She slammed her hand down on the table, “I’ll understand it when he comes up with an explanation for why he shut me out. Why he wished me dead and why he blamed me.”

John leaned forward so their faces were closer, “If you give me one more chance I swear I won’t blow it.”

His finger was pointing in her face and he didn’t sound like the sad, depressed boy he was being presented as, he was fighting back. Hayden preferred him this way, so she didn’t feel guilty.

Dr. Roberts broke in, “I’m going to get some water.”

They knew why she was leaving them and Hayden immediately took advantage of it, “Tell me. Tell me what is in that stupid heart of yours right at this moment and that’s how I’ll take you.”

“Take me?”

“Whatever you tell me is how I will decide if I can even think about forgiving you.”

He folded his hands on the table and let out a deep breath. She sat back in her chair and pretended that her body wasn’t coursing with nerves.

“I want to be your friend. I want to tell you nice things and have talks about our days. I want you to feel like you can turn to me and I want you to forgive me. I’m going to forgive myself but I just need a little time. Please, give me a chance.”

She didn’t reply because he still didn’t say what she needed to hear.

He sighed as he moved smoothly into the seat next to her and reached for her hand which she didn’t object to. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes flung closed to keep any tears from coming over. He knew it, he always knew. She squeezed his hand, “For what?”

“For every single word I have ever said to you that made you cry. All I can do is apologize. I can’t tell you I didn’t mean them because it’s not what you want to hear. But I can tell you I was in a completely different place.”

“What else?” she beckoned.

“I’m sorry I blamed you.”

She let the tears fall, “One more.”

He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the falling tears, “I’m sorry that when I shut you out I asked you to stop loving me.”

Hayden used their linked hands for leverage and pulled the both of them up and they crashed into each other in a hug. She cried hard into his shoulder but there was a faint trace of a smile on his lips. John didn’t plan on letting her go.

Dr. Roberts didn’t come back from getting water, not like either of them expected her to.

“So what now?” she laughed, using her index finger to wipe any smeared makeup away.

“I don’t care what we do, Hayden. As long as you can stand to be in a room with me, I’m pretty set,” John said.

Hayden smiled and stood up, “I want to show you something.”

They walked back to her room and she sat on her bed while John stayed standing. She held out her sketch pad in front of her and John took it.

“Wow,” he said, sitting down now too, “That’s how you see me.”

“I just barely got the eyes done.”

“They’re not right.”

She took it back from him and studied her drawing. He was right, the eyes were all wrong. They were empty. Not literally, but any emotion he could possibly have was missing. But that’s how she had seen him the last time they were together four years ago, that’s how he was the night before she attempted to end her life—but that’s not how they were now.

Now, she remembered the boy she had been best friends with. She carefully erased and redrew easily. Once she was done she handed it to him and he smiled.

“I’m sorry that that’s how you remembered me.”

“I don’t want to see that again,” she said, shaking her head at the hurtful memories.

“I’ll promise that if you promise to never give me a reason to look that way,” he said.

She nodded her head and gave him a slight smile, “That’s a deal.”

He looked down at the picture again and traced his fingers over the sign below her signature that she had done before she even knew they would make this progress, and smiled to himself. He whispered so soft that even Hayden couldn’t hear,

“Infinity.”