Forelsket.

I had a dream about grandpa. His rough hands were pulling at the fabric of my clothes, the strands of my hair, scratching the skin on my back. Flashing behind my eye lids in the depth of my sleep, was a memory I worked hard to repress. His large hand was on the top of my head, pushing my face far into the mattress. The mattress. It was wet from the salt water falling from my eyes – silently. His hands found their way to my bare back, made long scratches that seemed to burn for months.

Silent. Except for my beds frame scraping against the wall.

Silent. Except for his heavy breaths, and surpressed coughs.

And me. Hopeless, still.

I only woke up because Lindsay threw my door open, taking me away from the nightmare. I thanked her in my head as I watched her slay through my closet with a red face and angry eyes. Neither of us said a word to each other (though, for completely different reasons) as she worked her way through my entire closet. She threw articles of clothes on the floor, muttering to herself.

And she emerged, pulling with her a purple-red cardigan that I had borrowed ages ago. I hadn’t remembered it, so I doubt she did until that morning. Because when Lindsay is mad at you, she brings up things from the past to make herself the victim. But you have to get her to a certain level of boiling-mad to get her to behave that way. And, I supposed that I had done just that. Whether it was my depersonalization from Grandpa and his illness or just a stupid sister thing, I didn’t know. But no matter how hard I hoped it was the last one, I knew it was Grandpa.

I understood how she saw me. To her, I was a rotten human – ignoring her grandfathers illness without so much as a god damn blink of the eye. If the tabels were turned, perhaps I would think the same of her. Perhaps I would be the one who was mad at her.

She hadn’t even looked at me as she turned quick on her heal and swiftly walked out of my room. I heard a door close and huffed at myself as I fell back into my pillows. I stared at the ceiling for i-don-know-how-long before I heard someone else walk into my room. Looking to the door, I saw it was my father, with a small smile on his face. My father was a quiet, but assertive man. And he didn’t speak too much, but when he did, we listened. Mom said he was always quite reserved, even when he was younger.

I sat up and smiled at him, feeling slightly awkward. But he began to speak before I had to think about it again.

“Lindsays been hard on you, huh?” He shook his head, and started over to me. I knew he was my dad and I knew he wouldn’t touch me. But there was so many times I had seen Grandpa take the same steps, so many times he’s sat on my bed to ‘comfort’ me. My heart started beating hard.

I only shrugged as my dad took a seat on the foot of my bed.

“Don’t take it personally,” He said, “Grandpa being in the hospital has made everyone kind of out of it.” Slowly, my father nudged me, “Even your mom has been crabby.” We shared a small laugh.

“I just wanted to tell you,” he continued, “I know that Lindsay might be hard to get along with, but she is your sister. And you both will regret it once you’re older, if you drift apart now. It happened to me and my brother, and even now things aren’t what they used to be between us.”

I slowly nodded my head. And, not knowing what else to say, I simply said, “Thanks, Dad.”

He, too, nodded and stood up from my bed, “We’re headed over to the hospital if you’d like to come.”

“Okay.” I forced a smile and watched him walk out of my room. I wasn’t up for anything today, let alone seeing my Grandfather. The thought of him after such dreams leave me with a chill that’s hard to shake, and even being fully aware that he can’t do anything while everyone is surrounding him, I am nervous about seeing him. I am always so nervous about see him.

I managed to convince myself to slide out of bed, to push my nerves as far away as I could. I began to get ready without thinking. I pulled on the clothes I wore the day before and scooped my unwashed hair into a bun at the top of my head before I made my way downstairs.

Lindsay was sat at the table, texting whoever she was texting, and by the small smile on her face, I had assumed it was Tim. I had wanted to say something to her, something friendly. Something to let her know that I cared for her. But she looked up at me then and rolled her eyes at the mere sight of me, and my mouth was zipped shut instantly. I frowned and looked toward my mother whose back was turned to me. She was facing my father, talking.

“Are we going? I have plans in a few hours,” Lindsay muttered. My parents turned to her; they looked at both of us and nodded. I just remember how unusually quiet they were, how quiet everything was.



As it turned out, Grandpa’s health was steadily deteriorating, and it hadn’t looked like he would be coming back home anytime soon. I was torn with the feelings of relief and sadness, and I didn’t think I could be both. In the hospital bed, he looked like a weak man, wasting away with each heavy cough. He looked like a Grandfather who was ill and dying, not a malicious one who was the reason for my nightmares.

Lindsay had stayed at his bed side the entire time and only held his hand tighter when the nurse came in and explained his condition. And gently managed to tell us there wasn’t much left in him. And no one cried because it hadn’t hit us. He was there and breathing and it seemed okay for the time being.
Tim was already waiting in the driveway when we pulled up to our house. Lindsays appropriate response was to bolt from the car and into his arms. They hugged long and hard and I envied every minute of it. I craved the comfortability and intimacy they had with each other and knew it would be nothing short of impossible for me to achieve.

I bit my lip as I got out of the car, head down and slowly made followed my parents to the door. Tim had called out to me before I had gotten a foot in my house, causing me to jump slightly and turn to find him.

He was in his car, Lindsay in the passenger seat looking eager to leave. His window was down as he stared at me with a slight grin.

“Johns been trying to get a hold of you, text him before he thinks you’ve fled the country to get away from him,” Tim gave a snort. And I blushed, nodding and disappearing into the house. John.

John.

I pictured him then from memory. His soft green eyes, the line of his nose and his smile spreading across his lips. I saw him in my mind taking his hand to his head to run his fingers through his brown hair, smiling slightly. And I bit my lip again and blushed more for thinking of a boy in that kind of way.

I rushed to my room, ignoring my mother asking me what I had wanted to eat. I dove onto my bed, and reached for my cellphone on the night table, quickly readind Johns text before even glancing at Jareds.

Hey, Liese.

Are you ignoring me? did our date suck that much?

Liese?

I smiled to myself, not remembering a time where I was so eager to be in contact with somebody as I quickly texted him a response.

Sorry, I forgot my phone at home.

I had completely forgotten about Jareds text as Johns came through thirty short seconds later.

did I sound obsessive or what? Hah. I was wondering if you were busy, though.

Somehow I found confidence to respond flirtatiously.

Right to the point, huh?
What did you have in mind?

I read the texts I had sent over to myself and I couldn’t believe I was talking that way to a boy. It was so out of character and new and exciting and the feeling he gave me was all those things too. I liked him. I was sure of it. And before I could talk myself out of it he responded.

Just thought we could hang out at my casa. Order some pizza.
Cool?

I grinned.
Sure.

Because I trusted that he wouldn’t try anything that would make me uncomfortable. I didn’t quite feel at ease, but I was quickly getting there and it was as much as a relief as it was frightening.

Great. I’ll be there in fifteen.

After that I had read Jareds text, in which he said he felt like he hadn’t seen me in a while or spent time with me. I almost felt bad, but as I told him I wasn’t free tonight, that I was spending time with John, he responded in a happy manor. He told me to make sure I made some time for him though.

So I relaxed onto my bed and I smiled at the ceiling because I felt warm and happy and I liked the feeling. As the doorbell rang I got up in a haste and nearly ran to answer it. Of course, my father had got there before me and was already talking to John as my mom called to him from where she was preparing food.

“John!” She squealed, “good to see you! Analiese didn’t say you were coming.” John just looked at me and smiled slightly.

“Sorry about that." Because what else was he going to say? I walked closer to him and my father – my father giving me an embarrassing grin that caused me to look down and fiddle with my hands.

“Its not a problem!” My mother was all smiles as she watched me stand next to John.

“Hi, Liese,” His voice was a whisper and I felt his breath glide over me. My eyes nearly fluttered and my heart stuttered and I forced out a small ‘hello’ before looking at my mother.

“Um, John invited me over to have dinner at his house. So…”

“Okay, honey, have fun. Call me when you’re coming home.” I was almost shocked at her compliance but I knew she was so happy that I was getting out and spending time with John. And she knew I liked him. She gave me a look that promised we would talk later and then John and I left. We got into his car without much of a word, and he goofily sang along to some actually nice song which made me laugh.

And I knew the rest of the night would be just as nice.