Exits and Entrances

I called you twice, getting only your voicemail, your voice adorable as you said, in your most adorable voice, “Hey there, you’ve reached Cady Grisham, and obviously I’m not around or I just don’t wanna talk to you, so leave a message and I might call you back!”

I was lost in this voice.

You picked up on the third call, and you sounded pissed. “What do you want, Tommy?” You said, and like everything else in my life, I could see you rubbing your temples with your fingers, sounding exhausted and determined to make things okay. I was taken aback by your rudeness, but after Caroline’s attempt at a ranting session, I knew I deserved it.

“I just wanted to talk, Cady,” I said slowly, chewing on my lip in that way you always told me drove you crazy. “I mean, I just wanted to try and be friends again, but if that isn’t what you want...”

You didn’t sound particularly excited, but you answered all the same. “No, I’m just exhausted right now. You always had issues with calling me at good times, Tommy.” And all I could think of was how you got right back into heartbreak. You seemed to realize this, and you kept your voice down. “Sorry. Force of habit,” You murmured, and I couldn’t help but smile. I loved your voice when you whispered.

I cleared my throat, changing the subject. “How’s your mom and dad holding up? Better since the last time we talked, I hope.” I kept my voice neutral, like everything was okay and we were just friends. I could hear you biting your lip.

“They’re ... well, to be honest, I am a terrible daughter. I actually don’t know how they are. I’ve been spending a lot of time out of the house, you know. I just can’t take much more of their moping. I need my own time to grieve.” You kicked your feet out, and I could hear it, and you exhale. “Tell me about you, Tommy. I haven’t heard much of anything about you lately.”
I sigh. This was something I didn’t really want to talk about. “I’m okay, miss the old days, but who doesn’t? I mean, it’s just the same shit, and a new day, you know?” I knew I was rambling, so I cleared my throat and ran my fingers through my hair. “Look, junior year is almost over. Is there anything left you want to do with your junior year?” I mentally cursed myself for saying it out loud, but you chuckled.

“Of course, Tommy. I’m a teenager. My excuse is that I’m stupid, I’m young and I’m bored. Of course there are things I want to do before the end of the year, but given the recent developments, I doubt that will happen.” I can almost see you shrug, and then lift your hands up to rub your face.

I remember vividly how every time you would do that, you’d curse and drop your hands into your lap, swearing the grease from your fingers closed the pores of your face, causing pimples I never seemed to see (granted, I had seen pictures as well as you without makeup, but really, Cady, they were never that bad).

“Don’t say that,” I whisper, my voice dangerously low, reminding me of the time I almost got what I originally set out to do. You know it became so much more than that, don’t you, Cady? Please tell me you do.

“What else do you want me to say, Tommy? My uncle died, my parents marriage is falling apart anyway, you left-” You stopped short, and began apologizing again, like it was your last desperate attempt at human interaction. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for and-”

I cut you off, determined to be honest with you. Lies had gotten us nowhere in the past, why would they get us anywhere now? I mean, really, to be perfectly honest, I wanted you in the simplest form of the word. “True.” I bit my lip, thinking carefully the next words I was going to utter, something you had taught me, Cady. “What you said was true. We need to be honest with each other if this is ever going to work.”

“And what is this, Tommy?” You say coolly, right as if scripted. No pauses, nothing. Fiery like you always were, and though I would normally get mad, I know I no longer have that right. I accept this “loss” of sorts, and take another deep breath. Everything was a fight, but you were worth fighting for.

“This is my long winded apology,” I said, and you laughed. It wasn’t your normal obnoxiously booming laugh, but it was still better than those fake smiles you had been flashing around. That was always something I was proud of, you know. I could make you smile, always.

“Okay, I guess I can accept that.” You yawned, and your voice was almost silent as you asked me something I’d never hear uttered from your gorgeously full lips. “Tommy, I know this is a lot to ask, but will you sing me to sleep?”

Without a second thought, I sang you to sleep, because I loved you.