Never Again

-- Present First-Person --

I leave AJ in his room while I head back to the tree house to finish my math homework...and to look at our old photos. I've missed him, and today was really fun, the most I've had with him in a long time...until the asthma attack that is, of course. I'd forgotten how nice he can be, how understanding he was, how easy our friendship was--he's the only one who can read me like a book in his native language. Madison can read me, too, but with her it's sometimes like she's trying to read a foreign language.

AJ and I were such good friends, tied by the hip, because it was as easy as breathing most of the time. That's why it hurt so much, why I didn't understand why he left. My heart aches where it broke all those years ago just remembering, thinking, feeling what I've lost. What's been gone. He was the best friend I'd ever had. I thought he felt the same, we were closer than family, so why did he leave me standing there? Why did he shun me all these years?

I brush the hurt off and climb up the tree, climbing into the treehouse and shutting the trapdoor behind me, walking through the screen door we'd placed for the main structure and to the back of the 'house'. To the photos. To the memories we'd stored. I see one that catches my eye--me and AJ as little kids, 5 years old, before any of the sibs' were born, dressed up for an aunts wedding. AJ's dressed up in a tiny little suit, with a little tie and his nice shoes. I have the prettiest little dress, white with a pink satiny bow, pretty little sandals, and a pink bow in my hair. We're sitting at the table, sharing a plate of food--we'd refused to eat different things back then--eyes shining with happiness, simultaneously picking the food off of our forks with our fingers to then place in our mouths. There's more from the wedding, one at the reception, we're watching the bride and groom dancing, our hands clutched tightly in each other's like someone's going to steal our best friend away, but the biggest smiles you've ever seen is spread on both our faces. I smile sadly, missing my best friend so much, then my eyes shift to another from only songs later at the reception: the bride and groom are teaching us to dance, modeling and us copying, partnered together. Dancing together. And this wasn't swaying-back-and-forth slow dancing, they taught us to waltz. Yes, AJ and I know how to waltz...together. A tear makes it's way down my cheek, and I shift my attention once more, to a photo of the car ride home, well after midnight. AJ and I are in the back, sharing a seat, the seatbelt wound around both of our little bodies, our sleeping heads leaning on each other--mine on his shoulder, his on my head--our mouths dropped open a little, but a small, satisfied, content, happy grin on both our faces, even in slumber.
And it breaks my heart all over again.

~*~

Tuesday.

This morning, AJ's ready, waiting for me by the bikes on the top of the hill. I see him when I look out the window of the tree house. Yawning, I duck my head back in and quickly change for school, grabbing my bag and books off the desks. As I climb down the boards on the tree, I remember the last branch.

"AJ." I call out, noting how even my voice sounds--not a single note of friendship left. "Can you take the bag please?"

AJ's face remains the same, a softer edge of serious, not mean, just slightly detached. Except his eyes. His eyes have always given him away to me. Until...
I shake the memory off and look away from the blue eyes that had betrayed me. That hadn't looked at me, away from home, since 6th grade. The blue eyes that, now, had shown me what I didn't want to see, but what I hadn't looked away fast enough to miss: hurt, confusion, regret, pain, longing.

"Yeah." AJ walks over and reaches his arm up to receive the bag, his voice as detached as mine--except his falters for a moment.

I sit on the edge of the branch, leaning forwards unwillingly, watching the ground distrustfully. Without looking me directly in the eyes, AJ sets the bag down and reaches up to me, gingerly taking me by the waist and lifting me off the branch, setting me gently a foot away from him, before walking back to the bikes slowly. I follow and we start riding, wordlessly falling back into line next to each other while we ride.

"I was wondering where you were last night, then I kinda figured you'd slept in the treehouse." AJ says, keeping his eyes away from mine, looking at anything else, the tree, the road, behind us.

"Yeah, I had to finish some math and then I didn't feel like going home." I reply, hardening my voice slightly, though unconsciously.

"Got stuck?" There's teasing in AJ's voice, but it isn't mean.

I glance over. He's trying not to smile.

"Maybe we should just put a ladder under the tree, you won't have to waste your precious time getting me down every day." My voice is harder than I'd meant, my temporary frustration and hurt combining with my distrust of AJ, my hurt from him reappearing, trying to push his way back carelessly. My face has gone cold, become a mask.

I start to speed up, trying to leave him behind, but AJ's spent a lot of time on sports. He speeds up and swerves in front of me, forcing me to stop.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way, I was just thinking--" He stops himself, shaking his head to himself. "I'm sorry."

I hold myself and the bike up awkwardly, "You were thinking what?" I ask, my voice softening slightly.

"I was thinking how at least one thing hasn't changed." AJ smiles sadly, his expression resigned, like he knows it won't change much. "I'm so sorry, Cary. You have to know that."

Something in his voice, he's not just apologizing for offending me, the pain in his eyes is deeper, his sincerity. He's showing me. Letting his face open up, like a book begging to be read.

I drop the mask slightly, letting my hurt shine through, my distrust, my confusion, the emptiness I feel.

But my muscles tense, holding me back from going to him, hugging him, telling him it's ok, telling him everything's ok--that I get it, I understand, I forgive him, that everything will work out, that WE'RE ok. But I don't because I know I just can't. I can't lie to him, even if it's something that I want as much as he does, I can't tell him something when it's not true. Because I can't forgive him for everything in the blink of an eye, I don't understand, everything won't work out, and everything's NOT ok, WE'RE not ok. And he knows that as well as I do. That's what makes it worse.

I don't say anything. I just get on my bike and ride around him, not looking over my shoulder to see him watching me with a hurt expression. I try to push the pain in his expression to the back of my mind for the rest of the day, but it keeps coming back, pushing it's way back into my thoughts every 5 minutes. And every 5 minutes, my heart breaks all over again.

But it's not enough. It doesn't change anything. It can't. I can't. I can't take down the walls around my heart, just for him to trample over it all over again.