Unwritten Pages

Turns out, Arianna started bawling like the other girls after she had given us our hug. Ms. Loreen had to open a whole new pack of tissue boxes for Arianna alone.

I think she's still crying now.

Desiree's sitting in my room, staring out the window. The sky is dark now. School's over. Officially. I'm no longer a high school student.

I had hidden Winter's journal from Desiree. As much as I had wanted her to see her journal, I didn't want to show it to her at the same time. Call it greed or selfishness, but I knew Desiree would probably break down at the sight of that thing. Though I may give it to her after I've finished reading it...

No, I probably won't. I don't think she'll want to read it anyways. But it depends on what's in the notebook.

Anyways, Desiree probably won't want it. So I'm not going to show it to her.

“I still can't believe your parents let me in. After all you said about Liane,” Desiree says, staring out the window.

“Your cousins are over,” I say, “you don't have room to stay.”

“Technically,” she begins, “I do. It's my home, after all. But...it would cause problems. Or I could have went to Ari's house or—”

She trails off. I know she was going to say 'Winter's house'. But Winter's dead. I doubt her parents would let Desiree stay over at Winter's house. A reminder of their dead daughter.

“I'm glad you're over, anyways,” I say. “Just...you know.”

“In your perverted thoughts,” Desiree jokes. I frown at her. I do not have constant perverted thoughts!

“Not true,” I say. “I'm not a pervert. I'm...me. I'm Andrew Campbell,” I say.

Desiree laughs. “That's what you said when your mother was asking if they were sure we wouldn't...you know...do anything.”

My parents think that we might have sex. No surprise. It's an uncomfortable idea with them. I had promised that I wouldn't have sex until marriage. Wouldn't want a baby now, even if it's with my girlfriend. We're too young for that.

“Andrew! What's Desiree doing here?” My mother calls. She sounds agitated. I resist the urge to smile.

“Um, hello, Ms. Campbell,” Desiree says tentatively.

My mother nods a greeting to Desiree and then she glares at me. I shrug. It's not like I have a lot to explain, really.

Desiree stand by the doorway uncomfortably.

“Care to explain?” My mother asks.

“Desiree's cousins from Vancouver are over at her house today. She's here with me.”

“Can't she go to...Arianna's house?” My mother is clearly suspicious. Luckily, my father isn't home yet, so he's not in this conversation. But I'm sure my mother would tell him and I'd never hear the end of it tomorrow. Fortunately, I don't have siblings to bother me about it.

“Well,” I say, “she asked me first. I'm pretty sure Ari's busy.”

“How about Liane, your girlfriend?”

I pause. “Liane isn't with me. I hate her. I thought we already made it clear. Desiree Lilian is my girlfriend, not Liane Chau.”

My mother sighs, as if sensing a losing argument. “Fine. But you can't...” she trails off as if she can't continue. She tries again awkwardly, “you can't!”

“Can't what?” I ask innocently.

“You're teenagers. No sex,” my mother says briefly.

I laugh. I'd love to see my mother's expression if I tell her that teenagers have sex all the time. But I decided not to—who knows, maybe she'll think that I'm talking about myself too.

“I'm me,” I say, “I won't do that. I'm Andrew Campbell. I keep promises. Don't worry. No sex before marriage. You made me pinky swear that when I was ten.”

I hear Desiree make a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.

My mother scowls at me. “I don't want to hear any kind of noise coming from your room, young man!”

I resist the urge to laugh. Really, my mother can be hilarious sometimes.

“Of course,” I say before turning around and leaving the living room.

“I can't believe your mother actually said that,” Desiree says.

“Said what?” I lie down on my bed with my hands behind my head.

“That she didn't want to hear any sounds coming from your room. I know what that meant, but it was kind of weird to hear that, you know?”

I laugh. “My mother,” I say, “can be odd at times.”

“Times like this?” She smiles at me. Even in the dark, I can see that her face is slightly red.

“Awkward times like this, yes,” I say. “She's... She finds relationships dangerous.”

“Abusive relationships,” Desiree offers, “those are dangerous.”

“Yeah,” I say, “but I'm not a girl. I can take care of myself. Plus—I'm eighteen! She treats me like I'm eight. Well, maybe because I don't think you can get anyone pregnant at eight, but still.”

“That gross,” Desiree says, making a face. “Getting someone pregnant at eight?”

“Some people would love that to happen,” I say. Seeing Desiree's expression I add, “but I don't know anyone who does.”

Desiree comes over and sits on the edge of the bed. We're silent for a moment because it feels awkward. I've never had a girl on my bed before—as geeky as that sounds.

“Well, hopefully you're not like that,” she says as she lies down beside me. I shift a bit so there's room for her. My bed isn't very big, it's only a twin bed. There's barely enough room for two people.

“Obviously not,” I say. My heart is thumping irregularly at our proximity.

It's silent again.

“Um,” I say. “Is this too uncomfortable for you?” Even though we've been together for two years, I've never had her in my bed and we've never been this close.

Desiree gives a nervous laugh. “No,” she says. Impulsively, I grab her hand.

“No noise, Andrew Campbell,” she says shyly, “that's what your mother said.” I turn my head to see her. She's blushing.

I lean over and kiss her on the lips. She does nothing for a moment, as if frozen. Then she lets go of my hand and grabs the collar shirt and pulls me closer to her.

I'm not on top of her, though I'm sure if my mother came in, she'd scream something at us.

“Andrew,” Desiree whispers against my lips. I've never heard my name sound so...good on someone's lips. I know I should pull away before things get too intense.

We pull apart. I know we can't make any loud noises or else my mother will come storming in. Even if we drop a textbook on the floor, I'm sure my mother will come upstairs too.

She let Liane in the house, why shouldn't Desiree be here?

“I—I think we should stop,” I say unevenly. Her hands are still on my shirt.

“Yeah...” Desiree says, understanding. She lets go, but I don't move away.

“My bed is kind of small...” I trail off.

“I noticed.”

“So...we can't really sleep without not touching each other, if you get what I mean. We'll fall on the floor.”

“Yeah, I get it. It's not like I'm uncomfortable with it. You're my boyfriend. It's not like you're some random stranger,” Desiree says. She smiles softly at me.

“I was a stranger,” I say, for the lack of anything to say. It sounds stupid as it comes out of my mouth.

Desiree ignores what I've said. She plays with the necklace she's wearing. I realize with a start that it's the necklace I had given her back in ninth grade. She's still wearing it.

“You know,” Desiree starts, “that day? When you came? And said that...being with me made the butterflies free?” She blushes.

“Yeah?” I smile at the memory.

“Remember what I said about Drew? That he was coming to my house?”

“What about him?”

“We weren't dating.”

Even though Desiree and I are back together and I shouldn't see him as a threat, I can't help letting out a sigh of relief. Desiree catches that and gives me a peck on the lips.

“You seemed so worried,” she says. “He's... I don't have interest in him anymore.”

Anymore. I don't say the word out loud, but I'm pretty sure that it's clear to Desiree that I'm thinking about it.

“We had history,” she says quickly. “That's it.”

I know. Arianna had already told me.

“He's like my big brother,” she adds. “I don't like him anymore,” she insists.

“I'm not saying anything about you liking him,” I tell her. “And...I'm sorry about going off on you during our phone call...”

“Yeah,” Desiree says, “about that... Since I treat Drew like my older brother, I overreacted when you said Winter's suicide may have something to do with Drew. It's like...accusing your family members of murdering.”

“I... I get it,” I say.

“Sorry for swearing at you and calling you all those horrible things. I didn't mean it.” She buries her face in my chest.

“I'm sorry too,” I say haltingly. I don't say that I didn't mean all those things I said about her—because I did mean those words for that one moment.

I wrap my arms around her waist. Briefly, I wonder what my mother would say if she opened the door and saw us like this.

It's silent for a while—with the exception of our hearts beating quickly between us. Desiree speaks up, her voice muffled by the cotton of my shirt.

“I miss Winter.”

I think about Winter's journal, lying in my drawer.

Desiree's shaking a bit as she says it again, “I miss Winter.”

I have a feeling she's going to cry.

“She never finished high school with us. She never got to go to University or College.”

I hold her tighter to me, as if that can make the hurt go away.

“She's gone.”

“Desiree,” I mutter. She's trembling. I know she's going to cry. If she makes any noise, I'm sure my mother will come up here to check on us.

“Andrew,” she says. She bunches up her fist on my shirt.

I pat her back. I feel coolness on my shirt and I know the first few tears have slipped.

“Winter's gone,” she says. “Winter's truly gone. We'll never hear her voice again. We'll never see her in flesh again. We'll never hear her laugh again. We'll never—”

All these things that Desiree just said makes my breath catch. I don't want to think about these things so emotionally like Desiree is.

“Andrew,” she says again. “I miss her. I miss Winter.”

I think back to what Peter had said about souls. Those dark thoughts that were so unlike him. Those dark thoughts about eternal souls.

“Don't we all miss her,” I mutter.