Unwritten Pages

“Why are you all sweaty?”

Arianna looks over at me. I'm breathing hard, my hair is plastered to my forehead and I know I'm sweating. I touch my forehead and feel the wetness.

“I was playing basketball with Con, Peter and Tom.”

“Just three people?”

“No, there were other people too. But I forgot their names.”

“Um, oh-kay...” she says. “Why did you come to my house?”

“Just wondering,” I start off, “if Desiree was here. Don't you guys usually gather in one place and gossip?” That was what girls do. And that was what Desiree, Arianna and Winter did in tenth grade. They barely did it in twelfth grade.

Arianna gives me an odd look. “Not anymore,” she says. “Are you feeling okay?”

I nod. “I'm fine,” I say. “I just want to see Desiree,” I tell her.

“Amends?”

I sigh. “It's not going to be easy. I just want to talk to her. I hope she would understand.”

“Desiree doesn't forgive people that easily. Especially if she's in the arms of Drew Sorauren. Drew's a big player. He usually got any girl by just looking at them.”

I think back to Winter's journal where she had described Drew. Dreamy—that's what she wrote.

“Desiree's not like that,” I say. I realize that my voice is tight—like I'm hurt.

Arianna hears that too because she gives me an apologetic look. “Maybe you can see her...when you're not sweaty...?”

“Um, yeah,” I say awkwardly. “But I just want to explain a few things to her.”

“You can go to her house,” Arianna says. “And ring her doorbell instead of mine. Good idea, no?”

I smile. “Good idea, haven't thought of that one,” I joke.

“I know, I'm fabulous, aren't I?” Arianna smiles. “Now go and see her instead of bothering me. I was sleeping.”

“You were?” I frown. “It's three.”

“I was awake until seven last night. Well, seven is technically this morning now.”

“Yeah, see you,” I say. I start to head off and I hear the door close. I start to head towards Desiree's house. It's not far from here.

After I had finished reading the entry, my doorbell had rung. Tom was there and he asked if I wanted to play basketball with them. They were playing in the court nearby my house. Our houses—really. They lived here, uptown, like I did. Instead of downtown like Arianna, Winter and Desiree.

After a few hours, I had changed clothes and took a bus straight downtown. I didn't know why, but I had an urge to see Desiree suddenly. Like a sudden craving for chocolate or something.

I saw Arianna's house first. I wanted to check, just in case, if Desiree was there.

Arianna and Desiree don't live very far away from each other. A ten minute walk, really.

Since it's hot, I had begun to sweat again. My clothes are still dry, but I doubt it would stay that way for long. I think about what Arianna said about seeing her when I'm not sweating. But I'm already here, so I don't want to turn back.

Desiree lives downtown. So the day of the funeral—she must have took a bus up to see me right after the phone call. And immediately, she was rewarded with the sight of Liane in my arms. It must have been a horrifying and ugly sight. Liane and I do not go together.

I feel horrible about it. I suddenly wonder if I'm going to see Drew and Desiree on the front yard. Together. The thought of that makes me want to break his neck.

Dreamy. That's Winter's word for him. I wonder if Desiree feels the same way. I doubt that I'll be much of a competition for him. I doubt anyone was much of a competition for him. But I know that I'll fight for her—unless she doesn't want me anymore...

I reach Desiree's house after a few minutes. Luckily, there's no one on the front yard. I'm not confronted with the sight of Drew and Desiree together. I think I would have lost control and punched him if I did see that.

I approach the door and I ring the doorbell. After a few minutes or waiting, no one comes. I ring the bell again. No one answers. I don't know if Desiree's home. So I ring the bell once more. Maybe she just doesn't want to see me—

The door swings open. “What do you want?” Desiree demands. She's standing in front of me with a TV remote in her hand. Her brown hair is tangled and unruly. I resist the urge to say 'you'.

“To talk,” I say. I brace myself for words that Desiree will throw at me.

“Talk? Talk? Okay, sure! Why don't you tell me how wonder it is with Liane!” It isn't a suggestion. It's a challenge. She's glaring at me with...hatred. If looks could kill, I would be dead. I say the first thing that comes into mind that is associated with Liane's name.

“Liane's a bitch.”

That startles Desiree into silence. Before she can regain her posture, I begin to speak.

“I'm an ass hole. Liane's a bitch,” I say. “Even though Liane and I are both idiotic, it doesn't mean that we're a perfect match. I hate her.”

“You were kissing her!” There's a sense of betrayal in her voice.

“Yes,” I admit. I know it makes Desiree furious that I had admitted that. I try to keep myself from yelling back and I keep my speech calm. “She forced herself onto me.”

“You let her,” Desiree protests. “And I know I sound like the typical bitchy girlfriend—ex-girlfriend. But...girls are different from guys!” she bursts. “I hate you!”

I flinch as if I'm struck. Those words hurt—especially when Desiree's right in front of me. I know that look she's giving me—it's a look of pure hatred. I've been given that looks many times by her in ninth and tenth grade. That looks gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Desiree, please,” I say. My voice is pleading. “Let me explain.”

“That's what they all say,” she mutters.

“I'm Andrew. I'm not like other guys. I'm me. Don't be stereotypical. You know me.”

“Not anymore.”

There's silence as those two words sink in. My facial expression must be full of pain and hurt because Desiree looks almost apologetic as she sees my expression.

“Okay,” she says, “people change.”

She turns to go back in her house. I've barely even said anything to her. It didn't go the way I had thought it would.

At a last attempt, I grab her arm and pull her towards me. I press her lips hard against mine. At first, she struggles against me. But soon, she relaxes and wraps her arms around me.

Butterflies are free. I hold her tighter. She doesn't belong with Drew Sorauren. He can be her brother—nothing more. She... She's with me.

When we part, she stares at me like I'm an alien life form.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Was that how you kissed...her?” Desiree's not saying Liane's name.

“No,” I say forcefully. “She shoved herself onto me. She's gross and disgusting,” I tell Desiree. Desiree looks relieved, though it seems like she's trying not to show it.

“You know,” Desiree begins. She pauses, as if she's thinking.

“Yeah?”

Desiree lets me go. She look back at her house. The door is still open. “My mother is home. And Drew's coming in half-an-hour.”

Drew's name makes me frown. “Drew can go screw himself.”

Desiree sighs. “I knew you'd say something like that. My mother knows that you... That you broke my heart... She doesn't approve of you anymore. All she talked about was the drugs and how they screwed you up.”

“They did screw me up,” I say simply.

“Being with you,” she says. “Is kind of like a roller coaster ride. I know it's a cheesy saying. I never know what to expect. You're so...complicated.”

I give a short laugh. “Complicated? You're the one that's complicated. I don't play many games with your mind. I've barely played games with your mind.”

Desiree shrugs. “But I feel like you are. All the time. I-I can't read you well.”

“Well isn't that suppose to be the fun part?”

“You're... You're like Arianna! Ari and her mood swings! She's unpredictable. You're unpredictable.”

“Actually,” I say, “I think that I'm really easy to figure out. But I'm me. So I guess I get your point.”

Desiree sighs. “I'm sorry for going off on you...when you were with her...”

“You think that being with me is like a roller coaster ride,” I say. She nods. “I think being with you...is like letting the butterflies free.”