Unwritten Pages

July, 29th. Today is Desiree's birthday. I've almost forgotten. Luckily, I had gotten a last minute reminder from one of Arianna's texts. If I hadn't gone, Desiree would take it personally. I hadn't even try to contact her after the last visit to my house. My parents haven't asked me where Desiree has gone. It's doubtful that they even care that she's gone. At least my mother thinks I'm not doing anything 'inappropriate' now.

I had wanted to just stay home and finish the last few pages of Winter's journal, but I thought better of it. I don't want to hurt Desiree and she'll think that I don't care about anything she does if I don't go.

Girls can be such a bother.

But I don't want to leave Desiree hanging like that. I've left her hanging enough times back in ninth and tenth grade.

Arianna had told me that Desiree is just staying home and that she hadn't planned anything special. I'm wondering if that has anything to do with me. But I can't have that much of an effect on her, can I?

Winter might have killed herself because of her unrequited emotions for you, a small voice in my head whispers. No—she can't have. I can't have done anything to her. Something had happened to Winter on May, 26th but I don't know what. I don't remember talking to her much during the month of May... Maybe that's it...

No. It's stupid to think about. I'll just finish reading the last few pages of her journal before I come to any conclusion.

When I get off the bus, I see a flash of blue from the corner of my eyes. I frown and look around for the source but I don't find one. It must have been my imagination...

That's all pushed away from my mind as soon as I see Desiree's house. Immediately, my mind wanders back to Winter. And she lives—no, she lived not very far from here.

I approach Desiree's house. I'm not sure if Arianna is there yet and I don't want to be alone with Desiree yet. I'm almost sure she'll throw a chair at me when she sees me...unless Arianna is there to restrain her.

I hold my breath as I wait for the door to open. Please be Arianna, please be Arianna...

The door swings open and I'm greeted with the sight of my red-headed friend. She grins cheerfully and me and I let out a sigh of relief. “Though you wouldn't come,” Arianna says. “You know, look for new girlfriends and all if hard work. Well...not really for a guy like you—”

I cut her off. “Did you tell her I was going to come?” I ask. “I swear, you know what Desiree does when she's angry—”

Arianna laughs. “Relax! Geez! It's not like she's going to come with a knife and kill you.” The laughter becomes a bit choked and I know who she's thinking about: Winter. To keep our mind off the cause of Winter's death, she quickly moves on. “I told her you were coming. She was kind of mad, but who can blame her? Actually, I'm not sure what the hell has happened between you two. Another fight? Please don't drag me in it. Desiree looks ready to play messenger with me as the owl carrying the letter.”

“Ha-ha,” I say, unamused. “Sorry that I was concerned about my safety.”

Arianna scowls at me. “She's not going to kill you, trust me.”

“Since when have you become trustworthy?” I ask under my breath. She doesn't hear me say anything so she just turns and walks back into the house. After I have said that, I think about Arianna being Avery. It's an odd thing to think about so I push it out of my mind. I've been pushing a lot of things out of my mind lately.

I tentatively walk into the room, hoping that Desiree doesn't start screaming absurdities at me. She doesn't and I let myself relax a bit.

I follow Arianna into the living room where Desiree is. She doesn’t look up when we enter the room though I'm sure that she knows that I'm here. She's sitting on the couch cross-legged and she has her back to us. She's reading from a hardcover book she has in her lap.

“Hey,” Arianna says, her cheerfulness sounds forced. “Guess who came?”

“No doubt,” say Desiree nonchalantly as if she doesn't care. She flips the page of her book. “It's the druggie.”

Arianna doesn't comment on this. She steps behind me and hastily pushes me forward towards Desiree. When I give her an odd look, she whispers, “Go on! Make things better.”

How does she expect me to make things better? But...I can't help but attempt to win her favour back. I hesitantly take a seat beside Desiree. She makes no move to attack me or even acknowledge me which I suppose isn't a good thing or even a bad thing.

“Hey...” I begin, trailing off. What am I going to say? She's not even responding to me—

“So what are you trying to do now?” Desiree surprises me by turning around and looking at me straight-on. I had thought she would just ignore me but apparently, I'm wrong.

“You know...” I shrug and look away from her. The moment I look away, she looks back at her book like she had never been paying attention to me. “I'm sorry.” It comes out as a question instead of a statement.

“I'm sorry too,” Desiree says, her tone still nonchalant. For one second, I'm wondering if I heard wrong. Is she actually saying that she's sorry for accusing me? I'm about to say that I actually wasn't taking drugs but she continues. “I'm sorry for ever believing you.”

I'd be lying if I say that her comment didn't hurt.

“Can you just let me explain?” I ask. I hear a note of plead in my tone and I clear my voice to cover that up. Though I'm sure she had heard.

“What is there to explain?” she says, shutting the book. “I don't really understand why you would take drugs again after...” She swallows, clearly not ready to say Winter's death out loud like this. “After...everything that happened?”

“I didn't take any drugs,” I say impatiently. “What will it take for you to believe?”

Desiree shrugs and goes to picking some lint off her shirt.

“Honestly,” I tell her. “I wouldn't lie to you.”

“Yeah right,” Desiree mutters. “Like you hadn't already.”

“Are you suggesting something?” I ask, feeling slightly offended and amused at the same time. Desiree can have such a wild imagination. Why is she so paranoid? Can't she just trust me for once?

“Yes,” Desiree says, still not looking at me. “You and that...that whore. What was her name? Ella? Bella?”

I don't think I should correct her and say that her name is Faithella. That will only look bad on my part. “You're saying that I'm sleeping with her?” I choke out. The thought is so ridiculous that it makes me want to laugh.

“What else should I expect?”

“More than what you think,” I say, shaking my head. “You know me. I wouldn't do that.”

“People change,” Desiree insists.

“You're too stubborn,” is my rebuttal. Desiree doesn't say anything to this. Maybe she's finally realized that she is too stubborn.

I realize that she's still wearing that necklace from ninth grade that I had given her. She always had been. I hadn't noticed until she came over a few weeks ago to my house and now I'm noticing it again.

“You're wearing my necklace,” I point out. “You're hurt. You would have thrown that away if you didn't care anymore.” It's a long-shot but I hope that I'm right. If I'm wrong, she might as well throw something at me.

Desiree lets out a heavy sigh. “I'm stubborn, okay? And...” She hesitates before saying the next words. “I'm...hurt, okay? Is that good enough for you or do you want to tear me apart even more?” Her voice sounds a bit shaky and I have a feeling that she might cry right now.

I wrap my arms around her. She doesn't push me away. Instead, she leaves into my chest and closes her eyes. “I'm so tired of everything, Andrew,” she says. She wipes away a tear that has slipped onto her cheek. “Why is everything like this? Why did...Winter go? Why do I have a boyfriend who use to be addicted to drugs?” She gives a soft laugh at this. “If I went back in time and told myself that all this was going to happen, I would have laughed. But now?” She shakes her head. “I don't even know what happened.”

“I didn't take any Meth, I swear,” I tell her. “Stupid Avery gave it to me right after her funeral and I was going to take the damn thing. I was being stupid and sloppy so you found the bag.”

“Yeah,” Desiree says, eyes closed. “I know you wouldn't do anything stupid.”

I'm silent for a few seconds. “Wait—then why didn't you...?”

“Why didn't I believe you? Because I'm a horrible person, that's why,” Desiree says. “I was in a bad mood. I'm still in a bad mood.”

“Because of Winter?” I say softly.

“Yes. But...I hate how she just left. Just like that. With no warning whatsoever. I don't get it. Why did she commit suicide? It makes no sense!” She's frustrated and she takes deep breaths to calm herself. “It just makes no sense.”

I think about her journal. I have to finish that soon and give it to Desiree to see for herself. I'm sure Desiree can finish the journal in a few days. Maybe even just one day.

“Well...today's the day to take your mind off those things,” I tell her. “Happy birthday to you.”

Desiree sits up while my arms are still around her. “I guess I can forget for just one day...” she trails off as she opens the book she has in her lap. “Arianna gave me this today.”

“She always gives books as presents. Most of the time anyway.”

“But this isn't a chapter book.” She holds up the cover for me to see. “Secret of birthdays. Isn't that cool? Check mine out.”

She flips open to the page that's marked July, 29th. “I'm observing, loyal, and conceptual,” she says, reading from the page. “And my friend match is a Gemini.” She looks up at me. “Which is Arianna,” she says. “And my love match is a Pisces. You're a Pisces boy.”

“So?”

“You're a Pisces,” she says. She flips to the page where it describes all the horoscopes. “You're suppose to be creative. You're anything but creative. Funny, isn't it?”

“Key word,” I tell her, “is 'suppose'. I'm not creative. I never will be.” I lean forward towards her and give her a peck on the lips. “But I'll be your Pisces boy any time.”