Looking Through The Lens

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ryansylander/www/

Chapter 6: Communication Breakdown

Back Home

I managed to sneak out of Brian’s house the morning after the party before anyone else woke up.  Sleep had not helped my mood; I still felt some anger when I looked at Brian and Carl sleeping on the couches.  My head was still groggy as I made the walk back to my house, sleeping bag in hand. 

Melissa was just wandering out into the great room when I walked in.  She looked at me in surprise. 

“You’re back early.”

“Couldn’t sleep at Bri’s.”

“Up all night partying?”

I wondered if it was a serious question, or a joke.  “Not really…”

She eyed me.  “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, fine.  I’m just tired.  Floor was uncomfortable.  I’m going to try and sleep a little more.”

“Okay, sweetie.”

A minute later, when I came out from the bathroom to go back to my room, Melissa was grabbing something from the top of the washing machine.

“Matt, I washed some clothes last night, and I think you must have had a letter in your pocket.  I’m sorry, I didn’t check before I started the wash, and, well, it pretty much disintegrated.”  My mom’s face was apologetic.

After taking a moment to realize what letter she was talking about, I shrugged.  “Oh, it’s nothing I needed.  I already read it.”  She had probably done me a favor; now I wouldn’t spend any more time trying to extract meaning out of Julie’s short note.

Melissa winced.  “Was it from Julie?” she asked.  “I guess you probably wanted to keep it.”

“Nah, that’s all right,” I replied dismissively.

“How are things with her?  Is she excited about February?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.  Are we still going?” 

I wondered why I was suddenly hoping she’d say no.

Her brow wrinkled slightly.  “Well, of course.”

“Cool,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.  I turned to go to my room.

“You know what?” she said quietly, her eyes sparkling as she gently grabbed my arm.

“What?” I replied, suspicious.

“Have you looked at the calendar?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh…  Okay,” she said.

I frowned.  “What?”

“Nothing.”

I went to the kitchen and looked at the calendar.  “November twenty-fifth.  It’s blank.  So what?  I can sleep all day…”

“No, silly, look at February.”

I looked at her for a moment, still suspicious, and then flipped to the 1990 calendar and found February.  Our trip was blocked in.  Nothing else was written on the page.

“Okay…”

“Look at Wednesday.”

I looked.  Wednesday?  Of our trip?

Then I let out an annoyed breath.  “Mom…!”

“What?  Maybe you can cook a nice dinner for Julie.  I can help.  Or not…  Whatever you –”

“Enough…” I warned, marching back to my room.

Melissa laughed gently as I closed the door.

I plopped into bed, and let out a long breath.  I knew my mom was just teasing me, but the timing was not so great.  She obviously hadn’t read that letter before washing it. 

Valentine’s Day…  Instead of a fun night with Julie, the only things I could see in my mind were those cheap perforated Valentine’s cards we passed out to all twenty-three kids in elementary school:  fun, but meaningless.

I stayed in the rest of the weekend, ignoring two calls from Brian.  On Monday morning, he was hyper when I got on the bus.  I took my usual seat, second from the back, right in front of his.

“Where’s Pete?” I asked.

“Sick…” Carl and Brian said at the same time. 

“Dude, what the hell happened to my coat?” Brian asked me.

I frowned, glancing at his jacket.  “Huh?”

“The morning after the party, my coat smelled fucking nasty.”

“I don’t know…”

“Did you like get up and puke on it that night?”

I made a face.  “No way!  It wasn’t me…”  I hesitated.  “It was probably Carmen.  When we were in the woods, she threw up a couple of times.”

Brian and Carl looked at each other, their expressions a mix of disbelief, humor and disgust.

“Eew!”

“She really threw up?”

“Yeah,” I said.  “She was pretty fucked up.  You saw her; she could hardly walk.  I had to carry her back, remember?” I said dramatically.

They laughed again. 

“Is she coming to school today?” Carl asked, glancing out of the bus window as her stop approached.

Brian shrugged, unconcerned.  “I called her yesterday, but she didn’t call back.  Whatever.”  He looked at me, and then pounded my arm with a fist as he grinned.  “Neither did you, Matt.”

“Quit it,” I said, rubbing my arm.

“Look,” said Carl, excitedly.  “There she is.”

Carmen got on the bus, and walked to the back.  She looked at me for a long moment as she approached, and smiled a little.  I smiled back reflexively, before straightening my face again.

“Hey,” she said to the three of us, as she moved into Peter’s usual seat.

“Can’t sit there,” Carl said immediately.

“Why not?  Where’s Pete?”

“Sick,” the three of us said together.

“We’re still saving it for him, though,” Carl added.

Carmen gave him a bewildered look, but she nonetheless stood up to move to Brian’s seat.

“Oh no,” Brian said, holding up his palm towards her.

She stood in the aisle, still confused.  “What now?”

“This is my only other coat,” Brian said, gripping the fabric.

Carl laughed silently behind her back.  Suddenly I felt somewhat ashamed.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I don’t want you to puke on this one, too.”

Carl guffawed, unable to hold it in.

She shot me a look.  “Matt…” she said, a pleading shamefulness in her voice.

“It’s not Matt’s fault,” Brian chided.  “You got it all over the front of my coat…  Unless you’re covering for him?”

Carmen opened her mouth to speak, but the bus driver had to brake quickly for some reason and she lurched forwards, tumbling into the aisle.  While the two others looked at each other in surprise and amusement, I helped her up. 

“Thanks,” she said quietly to me.  Her face was even redder than it had been before the fall.

She looked indignantly at Brian for a moment.  “I’m going to go sit up front,” she said, and turned to march up the aisle.

“Fine with me.  Oh wait; do you want Matt to carry you?” Brian called out.

“Dude, shut up,” I said, suddenly annoyed.  I felt like hitting him in the arm, but knew that would only start an arm-punching game with him, and my arm would lose.

“What?  Lighten up, man,” Brian said, still smiling.

I stayed relatively quiet for the rest of the ride.

A few days later Carmen told Brian to fuck off, and that was the end of their relationship. 

A week after Brian and Carmen split, our band was practicing in our guesthouse.  Brian was hanging out with us, listening, and making random comments between songs.

“So Matt, are you gonna go out with Carmen?” he asked, during a break.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. 

“Word has it that she’s got the hots for you.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.  I had been hearing rumors, but I wasn’t going to admit it.  “Besides, I’m with Julie, so… no.”

“You should do it,” Brian continued.

I looked at him with a grimace.  “Did you not hear what I just said?”

“I heard you, but I still don’t see what you’re waiting for.  Carmen isn’t that bad, especially at first.  Then her personality starts getting in the way, but whatever…  Besides, have you heard from Julie lately?”

I took a long breath.  In the past week, Brian was bringing up the Julie issue daily, and it was quickly becoming annoying.

“No, I haven’t.”  There was no use lying about it.

“Well, there you go,” he said emphatically.  “Besides, I don’t care if you go out with Carmen.  I’m finished with her.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s good to know,” I said sarcastically.

The others just watched silently.

“Come on, let’s try this song again,” I said. 

Fortunately, Brian didn’t bring up Julie or Carmen again that evening.

Lara came into my room later that night, while I was working on homework.

“What’s up?” she asked, as she sat on my bed with her hands under her thighs.

“Math.”

“No.  I meant, what’s up with you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re acting a little weird lately,” she said.  “Julie still hasn’t written?”

“No,” I managed to get out.

“Maybe she’s –”

“I don’t want to talk about Julie.  She’s going to write soon, I’m sure.  She’s just busy.”

“All right.  What’s wrong then?”

I idly tapped on my paper with my pencil for a moment. 

“Everything’s fine.”

“Is this thing with Carmen bothering you?” Lara asked after a brief pause.

“You know about that…”  It wasn’t really a question.

“Sure.  Everyone does,” Lara said simply.

“Great.”

“You’re the hero.”

I whirled in my chair and glared at her. 

“I don’t really need to hear that from you!”

Lara was taken aback.  “I’m... I’m sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to...” she stammered.

I softened a little.  “I’m sorry too,” I said quickly.  “But it’s a little annoying.  That whole episode…  I didn’t want to carry her through the woods, believe me.  You know, I don’t even really like Carmen all that much.”

“Mm…  No, she doesn’t seem your type,” Lara agreed.

“But I keep hearing that she wants me to ask her out!” I blurted out, exasperated.

Lara shrugged.  “Just tell her no.”

I laughed incredulously, spreading my hands.  “I... I can’t just go up to her and, and tell her… what?  That I’m not going to ask her out?  Pass her a note, saying ‘Will you not go out with me?’”

Lara sniffed.  “Just say you want to be friends.”

“Well, I don’t even really want that.”

“Oh.”

“Basically, the whole thing is something I really don’t want to deal with right now.”

Lara was silent.

“Plus it’s making things weird with my friends,” I added, after a pause.

“Why?”

“Brian keeps bothering me about Julie, and about Carmen.  He wants me to go out with her.  It’s annoying.”

“Sorry.  Didn’t know he was being a dick.”

“Unfortunately, he is.  And I have no idea why.  He doesn’t like Carmen.  Why would he want me to go out with her?  Then she’d still be around when we hang out.”

“That is a little weird,” Lara agreed.

“I think it’s the Julie thing,” I continued, becoming more animated.  “That’s like all he talks about since I’ve been back from Montauk.” 

“What does he say?” Lara asked.

I made a face, and used a stupid voice to imitate Brian.  “ ‘Why are you still with her?  Has she written?  You’re crazy…!’  It’s like he’s trying to break us up.” 

“Can’t you talk to him?”

I slumped back in my chair and looked out the window, thinking for a moment.  I sighed, and said, “I don’t know.  Since the night of the woods party, everything’s been weird.  You know me and those guys have always hung out together, since we were kids.”

It was true.  We had all become friends, at first, mostly by geography.  We lived within moderate walking distance of each other, and relatively far away from anyone else.  Such is mountain living.  We all loved camping and hanging out outdoors, swimming in the lakes, and fishing, so we would have been friends anyway, even if we hadn’t been on the same bus route.  Throughout elementary and middle school, we were pretty much inseparable.  But now…

“Things can change,” Lara said, echoing my thoughts.

“Brian was always a little different, though,” I continued.  “You know, he doesn’t play in the band.  He plays soccer instead.”

“You can still be good friends, even if you don’t do the same things.”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that…” 

Lara just looked at me.

I sat up and took a deep breath.  “Whatever…  I really need to finish this homework,” I said. 

I was starting to feel dark about the situation with my friends, and needed to put my mind on something else.  Luckily Lara didn’t press me anymore, and she left my room.

I couldn’t really get back into the mathematics assignment, though, and my thoughts inevitably returned to wondering what the bus ride would be like the next morning.  I was beginning to dread seeing Brian. 

From one week to the next, I had started feeling like we weren’t such close friends as I had always thought.

Christmas break approached, and none too soon.  Despite going through the hallways expecting some sort of showdown with her, nothing of note happened with Carmen during the final weeks of school.  She might say hi, and I would say hi back, but that was it.  Brian continued his teasing and pestering, but it lessened when I started ignoring those comments. 

Then school was out, and it was a welcome respite. 

Beth and Hans came to visit for a couple of weeks, arriving a few days before Christmas.  Like everything in my life at that time, I was of two minds about their visit.

On the one hand, I loved skiing with Hans.  He really skied very well and wasn’t afraid of going off the trail or finding fun ledges to jump off of.  Even though my mom was a ski instructor, I learned most of my technique from her brother. 

On the other hand, having my aunt there meant the subject of Julie was going to be discussed.  I mulled over my situation, wondering how much I’d have to tell them.  There would surely be talk of our planned trip there in February, and since I had instigated it, Julie would surely figure in that conversation.  I found I had no way to plan a response, though; I had no idea what was going on with Julie.

When Beth asked everyone to gather in the living room the first night after dinner, I thought the topic was going to be broached right away.  I spent a few uncomfortable moments on the sofa until Hans came in from the cold, carrying a large cardboard box.

“Matt,” he called out, “there’s another box out on the deck.  Bring it in, will you?”

I got up and helped, and soon the two boxes were set gently on the living room table. 

“Look what I found when I was cleaning out my closet,” announced Beth.

We gathered around the boxes, wondering what could possibly be in them.  They were old and worn, but still sturdy.  Hans cut through the tape with his pocketknife, and opened the flaps of one box. 

“Cameras?” said Lara, looking inside.

“Your father’s,” said Hans with a nod.

“I forgot you still had those,” said Sarah quietly. 

“Yeah, every time I came across them I would make a mental note to bring them, or have you take them back with you, but then I’d always forget,” said Beth with a small chuckle.  “The kids might like to see them.”

Sarah and Melissa looked at each other, reaching for each other’s hands.  There was sadness in their eyes.

I looked inside the box.  There were all kinds of camera boxes, a few camera bags, some plastic-wrapped parcels, trays, containers, and some other strange implements.

“I knew he took a lot of pictures, but I didn’t know he collected cameras,” said Lara.

“He had some cameras that came through his business contacts,” said Sarah.  She let out a wistful laugh.  “I don’t know if you could quite call it a collection, since he was always moving them and getting others.  But I think these are the ones he was keeping for himself.”

I delicately pulled out a plain box.  Inside there were three wrapped items: a larger rectangular object and two smaller round objects.  I removed a camera body out of the large plastic wrapping. 

I didn’t know much about cameras, but I could tell this was of a whole different quality than the plastic camera that our family owned now.  The black metal body had a white script “Leica” engraved on it, and under it was written “Ernst Leitz Canada Ltd., Midland, Canada.”  There was also a somewhat odd description to the right:  “Camera, Still Picture, KE-7A.”  There were dials with numbers on the top and back, and a film-advance lever that rotated around what must be the shutter button.  Another round knob was cocked at an angle on the corner of the camera.  Everything was precise and the camera had a certain solidness that felt just right. 

I handed it to Lara, as I pulled out one of the small round packages.  Inside was a black lens.  There were a few rows of cryptic numbers written around the barrel.  I took off the lens cap, and looked at the smooth glass that fronted the lens.  On the front rim was written some identifying marks and numbers.  I removed the back cap, fitted the lens up to the body, and after some gentle experimentation, the lens rotated and clicked into place. 

I looked through the little round view window, panning the camera across the room.  Lara posed with a smile as I aimed at her. 

When I looked through at my mothers, there were tears in their eyes.  I put the camera down, and looked at them soberly.  Beth put an arm around Melissa.

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah, wiping away a wet streak. 

“We can put them away,” I said.

“No, no, I’m okay.  It’s just that these cameras bring back many old memories,” she sniffed.  “And you kind of… looked like Chris, when he looked through the camera,” she added softly.

“These do bring back memories,” said Hans soberly.

I watched the adults exchange sad smiles of a time long past.  I wondered what pictures these cameras had taken.

I picked up the camera body again, looking it over with even more interest.  My father had once held this in his hands.  I felt a little closer to him, in some small, but significant way.

“Do they all work?” I asked.

“Sure, your father used all of them,” said Sarah.  “He had a few favorites that he used most, though.  I’m sure they are in there somewhere.”

“Regular cameras?  You mean like our camera now?” asked Lara.

“No,” said Sarah, “we used one of your father’s cameras for a while when you were younger, but when the newer cameras came out that were automatic, we put these away.  Hans took them into the city to have them looked at, a few years ago.”

“More than a few,” he said with a shake of his head.

Melissa scooted over next to me, and looked over the camera I was still holding.  She pointed to three serial numbers printed on the back of the camera body.

“Most of these are interesting cameras, which collectors were looking for.  If I’m not mistaken, this camera was a military camera.  I think that’s what these numbers were related to.”

“I thought Dad didn’t like the military,” said Lara.

Sarah laughed, and said, “He didn’t always agree with their actions, true.  But he had a few clients who collected military equipment, including cameras.  This was probably one that was on its way to a client and he decided to keep it instead.”

 “You can try it,” Melissa said to me.  “There’s no film, but it will still click.”

“The batteries are probably dead, though,” I said with a shrug.

Melissa laughed a little.  “That camera doesn’t need batteries.”

I thought for a second, puzzled.  “Then how does everything move?”

“It’s all manual.”

I was impressed, though still skeptical.  “What about the flash?” I said, pointing to the built-in flash window.

“That’s not a flash.  That helps you frame the picture.  On this camera you have to do everything yourself,” continued Melissa.  “Focus, set the aperture and the shutter time, wind the film… you do everything.  If you didn’t know how to set these things just right, your pictures would turn out too dark, or out of focus.”

“Why would he want it, if it was such a pain to use?” asked Lara.

“Why does anyone collect anything old?” said Sarah.

“But he used them, too, and some of these cameras were pretty new back then,” added Melissa. 

“Weren’t there better cameras back then, though?” I asked. 

Even though the camera I held was clearly well made by any standard, its apparent difficulty of use made me wonder why anyone would keep it.  My idea of a good camera was something you took out of its case, aimed, and pressed the button.  Aim and press, aim and press.

“Better?” repeated Melissa.  “Well, better is a tough word.  Easier to use?  Maybe a little.  But don’t forget these are fifteen years old, or more.  Automatic focus and all that was just starting to come in.  You didn’t take pictures as casually, back then.  That’s why we have the camera we have now.  You just aim and shoot.” 

I laughed a little, hearing her repeat my thoughts aloud.

I put the camera down on the table, unsure what to make of the relics.  It was neat to see some new part of my father’s life, and when I first saw the cameras, I thought there might be something useful.  Now it seemed that there was just a bunch of antiquated, hard-to-use cameras in a box. 

“They’re interesting,” I said, staring at the camera.  I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice.

I looked at Melissa.  She had a knowing smile on her face, like she was withholding a secret.

“What?” I asked. 

She picked up the camera and handed it to me.  She pointed to the film-winding lever. 

“Try it.  Turn that to the right.” 

I turned the lever with my thumb.  I was surprised at the precision of the movement.

“Now press the shutter release here,” she said, pointing again.

I held the view window up to my eye out of habit, and pressed the button.  The camera sprang to life for a split second, and then was still again.  It was an amazing feeling.  I could feel the camera taking the picture through my hands.  The camera was like an extension of my fingertips.  It was so much different than the disconnected click one felt from pressing an electronic camera’s shutter release.  I wound the lever and shot a few more blank frames.

“Wow,” I said, slowly, newfound respect in my voice. 

“What?” asked Lara.

“Here, try it.”

She wound the lever and pressed the button.

“That’s cool.  It feels so… so real.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

The expected talk with my aunt came after Christmas.  I was helping her and Melissa cook dinner, having taken a rare day off from skiing.  The temperature that morning had been extremely cold, and I balked.  Sarah had to work, so she went to the slopes, and Hans was not as easily deterred by the mercury as I was. 

When Lara went over to a friend’s house, and Aunt Beth asked me to help with the food, I had a feeling it was coming. 

There was no preamble.

“So, how are things with Julie?” she asked.

“Uh, you know, just writing letters and stuff.”

“How is she?”

“Busy.  With school…”

“She hasn’t come by the house in a couple of months,” she said.

“Oh.  Did she used to?”

“Yeah, she’d visit every few weeks.  Sometimes her mom would get a little crazy, and she’d come over for the evening.”

I winced, wondering what kind of things they had talked about after I left Montauk.

“Well, like I said, she’s been busy.”

“I saw her in the store a few weeks ago,” she continued, “but she didn’t have time to chat.”

For some reason, something about my aunt’s tone caused a twinge of anxiety in me. 

After a moment, she added, “Are you looking forward to seeing her in February?”

“Yeah.  It’ll be good.”

“Well, tell her we miss seeing her,” Aunt Beth said.  “Next time you talk.”

“Okay.”

“Peppers, please?” Melissa requested, and I brought them to her.

That was it.  I felt like I should be relieved that they didn’t probe further, and yet I felt even more troubled than I had before the talk.

No matter how I tried to put Julie out of my mind, the last week of break was uneasy.  What should have been a period of great skiing and relaxation was superimposed with a constant reminder of the fact that something really had gone wrong with Julie.  It had been over a month since her uninspired November letter. 

Perhaps it was the natural progression of things?  We had started out writing almost once a day.  Then we slipped to once a week.  Now, once a month? 

No.  Even if that were true, the letters would still show some interest and excitement. 

No, the excuses I was making for her were running out.

I had sent her a Christmas letter, and left a message.  Unless I heard something from her, that was my last letter.

All too soon it was time to go back to school.  Brian, who had been relatively sane during break regarding Carmen, nudged me when she got on the bus that first morning.

“Go for it,” he whispered.

“Go for what?”  I watched as Carmen gave me a little smile before settling into her new seat near the front.

“Ask her out to the winter dance in three weeks,” Brian said.

I sighed, feeling my patience dimming.  I even considered going and asking her, just so I could start sitting near the front instead of next to him. 

A few days later, one of Carmen’s friends approached me at my locker.

“Hi, Matt,” she said. 

She seemed like she was very nervous.

“Hi,” I replied evenly.  I knew what this was about.

“Um, what are you doing for the winter dance?” she blurted out.

“What?” 

For a moment I wondered if she was asking me to take her.  She’s cute, I thought… 

Then she continued talking, and reality settled in again. 

“Because Carmen would really like to go with you.”

“Oh, um…  I don’t think I can go, though.  I have something going on that night.”

“Oh, really?”  She sounded genuinely disappointed, like she had failed in her mission and would have to commit hari-kari or something.

“Yeah, um, something with my family, I think.”

“Oh…  Okay, that’s cool.”

She stood a moment longer, perhaps with something else on the tip of her tongue, and then she turned away.  After a second, she turned to me again.

“Would you, like, want to go to lunch with her sometime?”

I let out the breath I was holding.  The anger that lately seemed to accompany me everywhere, started to simmer. 

“You know, I actually have a girlfriend in Montauk, so...”

“Oh!  But, I thought...”

“Yeah?” I asked, expectantly.

She paused, and then there was a torrent of words.  “Well, Carmen said that Brian said that you weren’t with her anymore.  So we thought that...”

Her voice faded away as the anger became quite loud in my ears.  Fucking Brian!  What was he doing?

I cut off her stream of words mid-sentence. 

“Brian doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

After slamming my locker shut, I stormed off without looking back at her.  It was then that I started avoiding Brian.

“Hey!” I yelled. 

My heart was pounding as I turned around in the ski lift chair and stared back down at the slopes.

“What?” asked Peter, jolted out of his trance.

It was her.  It had to be!  I’d recognize that smile anywhere.  She had said she skied in the Catskills sometimes. 

She didn’t turn around in response to my yell, though.  Of course not.  Why would anyone turn around at a random yell? 

She disappeared over the crest of the hill.  Was I seeing things?  No…

“Who was that?” asked Peter. 

He and Carl were both looking back, wondering whom I had yelled at.  I finally turned forwards again, lost in thought.  A warm feeling of longing was surging through my body.

“MATT!” they yelled.

“What?” I said absently.

“Who did you yell to?” asked Peter.

It couldn’t be her.  But if it was, could I find her among these thousands of people?  The slopes closed in an hour.  Unlikely...  But I knew I had to try.  And if I did find her?  Then what? 

I would deal with that when, and if, it happened. 

“Fine, don’t tell us.” 

Carl and Peter were looking at me funny.  I ignored them.

After an eternity, the lift reached the top, and I pushed off.

“I’ll see you guys at four-thirty by the lodge,” I yelled, as I skied away.  I looked back and saw them make chase, but didn’t really care.  I blazed down the trail, trying to take the fastest line.  Once I passed the place where I had seen her, I slowed a little bit and started looking for dark blue pants and a green jacket. 

It seemed like everyone had chosen to wear green jackets that day, of the exact shade I had seen from the lift.  By the time I had reached the bottom of the slopes and entered the broad area where the different chairlifts departed, there were throngs of people going every which way. 

I came to a full stop, looking around frantically, but it was useless.  She could already be going up any one of the lifts, or she could be somewhere in the lodge, or she could even be on her way out to the parking lot.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes.  I wished I could just make everyone disappear, except the one I was searching for.  I saw people swept aside by an invisible hand, and there she was, standing right in front of me.  Those radiant eyes shone brilliantly in the snowy light, and the smile I had not seen for months was as lively as ever…

When I opened my eyes, Carl and Peter were standing in front of me.  They were breathing hard, and they definitely were not smiling.  I let out a long breath as they took their goggles off, looking at me strangely.  My mood sank to the floor.

“Why did you try and ditch us?” asked Peter.

I felt a hard emptiness replacing the supple adrenaline that had just been surging through me.

“Sorry,” was all I said, still looking around hopelessly. 

They seemed somewhat concerned at my mood.

“Are you all right?” asked Carl, with arched brows.

“Yeah.  But I don’t want to talk about it right now, all right?”

They nodded.  “Do you still want to ski a few more runs?”

I took one last look at the crowd, and then nodded.  “Yeah, sure.” 

I followed them as we got on the line for the chairlift.  They didn’t say a word the whole way up, and for the first time I could ever remember, my heart wasn’t into the skiing for the rest of the afternoon.

A few days later I was still haunted by her smile.  Band practice was going miserably, as I kept drifting away from the music and screwing up.  After forgetting to play my riff for the fourth time, Carl finally threw down his drum sticks in frustration. 

“Fuck!” he yelled.

Peter put his guitar down, turned off his amp, and went to lie on the couch.  “Dude,” he said, “this isn’t working.  You need to snap out of your trance.  What the hell is wrong with you?”

I took off my guitar and stood limply, looking out at the heavy snowstorm in progress.  My guitar started to build a feedback loop with the amp, so I flipped the switch.

I shrugged.  “Nothing.  I’m just distracted today.”

“Bullshit.  Ever since you wigged out on the ski lift the other day, you’ve been acting all weird.”

I thought for a moment of what to say.  They wouldn’t understand.  Or maybe they would.  At least Brian wasn’t there, or he would really get on me.  If he couldn’t see why I was still thinking of Julie, what would he think of this? 

I decided to tell them the truth.

“Well, when I was in Montauk, I met this girl,” I said slowly.  “We fished together a lot… And on the lift the other day, I’m pretty sure I saw her skiing.”

There was a moment of silence.  Peter and Bruno exchanged smirks.  Then Carl laughed out loud.  Instantly I felt some remorse at having told them.

“Okay,” said Carl, “you really think Julie would come up to ski without telling you?  I think you’re going a little loony with this shit, man.  Hallucinating.  At least give the rest of us some of whatever you’re on.”

“It wasn’t Julie,” I said quietly.

“What?”

“So who then?” asked Bruno.  “You never mentioned hooking up with anyone else in Montauk.”

I gestured to his giant amplifier, which was still on and quivering with energy, despite the fact that Bruno held his hand on the strings of his bass.  Bruno switched it off, and the room grew so silent, I could hear the snowflakes falling.

“I didn’t hook up with this girl,” I said.

Another pause, and I winced at what was coming.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Carl, his voice condescending.  “You met some girl and fished with her a couple of times, while you’re with Julie, and six months later you see her on the slopes for a second, maybe, and now you’re all fucked up?”  His tone turned ugly.  “You’re playing like you just learned the fucking guitar yesterday!  This sucks!  How are we supposed to get anything done?  It’s not even fun anymore.”

I knew I should have made some other story up.  I threw my hands up and went to get a soda from the kitchen.

“It’s hard to explain,” I said from the fridge, popping open the can.

“I think Brian’s right.  You’re going soft on us,” said Carl quietly, but audibly.  He started playing his drums again.

Brian really said that?  I felt the ever-present anger and resentment boil over inside of me.

“Carl, shut up,” I heard Peter say. 

Carl stopped playing with a loud cymbal crash.  I heard the clatter of his sticks being dropped onto the snare.

I waited until I could hear the snowflakes again, and then moved back into the room.  No one looked at me.

“Fine, I guess I’m going all soft on you.  I’m done here.”  I slammed my soda down on the table and walked out into the heavy snow.

That night, I lay in bed for a long time after dinner.  I felt completely embarrassed.  Somehow Brian and Carl, and probably the others, thought I was some kind of wuss.  I didn’t know what would happen when I saw them on the bus the next morning. 

I really wished I could be sick.  I considered faking an illness, but I doubted that would fly.  My parents stopped falling for that a long time ago.

Were Carl and Brian right?  Was I being overly attached to Julie?  Did I blow the ski slope incident way out of proportion?  Why was I so fixated on this?  It may not even have been her, even though I was pretty sure. 

Self-doubt was seeping through every crack it could find, and my mind was being stirred up into an ugly blend of shame, confusion and self-deprecation.  Lately, I was having trouble keeping my dark thoughts from spiraling out of control.

A knock on my door startled me.  I bolted up, looking around in the dark, disoriented.  I must have fallen asleep, since my clock said ten.  I realized I was exhausted from many nights of bad sleep.  A strong wind was prickling hard snowflakes against the windowpanes.

“Who is it?” I said, feeling afraid.

“It’s me,” Lara said.

“Come in,” I said, lying down again.

A crack of light widened, and then closed up as Lara’s silhouette passed through it.  I felt her sit on the edge of my bed. 

“What’s wrong?  I thought you were doing homework.  I need help on a math problem.”

“Just laying here.”

“What’s up?”

I lay quiet for a while, wondering what to say.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to her, but maybe she would understand.

“Have you ever met someone who makes you feel amazing when you are around them?”  I winced, as it sounded like an incredibly “soft” thing to say.  The guys were right, after all.

Lara thought silently.  “I don’t know.  I never thought about it.  What do you mean?” 

“Do you think…?  Do you think I’m weird for sticking with Julie, even after I haven’t heard from her for… over two months?  More, if you consider her last real letter.”

“No,” said Lara.  “I think it’s cool that you are staying with your promise to her,” she said.  Her tone was soft and open, and I felt a little less self-conscious.

“Why hasn’t she written me, then?”

“I don’t know, Matt.  She can be, well… flighty.”

“Flighty?”

“Yeah, she’s not always the most steady person.”

“She seemed pretty normal this summer,” I said, wondering what Lara meant.

“I don’t mean like mental unsteady, but more like… she moves around a lot in what she likes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.  It’s always been somewhat of a challenge to be her friend, because she changes her mind a lot.”

“S-so you’re saying she’s changed her mind about me?” I asked tentatively.

Lara sighed.  “I don’t know.  But that’s the way she can be.  She’s very sweet, but sometimes she gets fixated on something, and loses sight of everything else.”

I felt somewhat disheartened at hearing this.  I didn’t really see this side of her when I was with her. 

“I guess I thought we had a connection,” I said sadly.

“I think you did,” she said earnestly, and then corrected herself.  “Or do.  Sorry...”  Her tone wasn’t very convincing though.

“I mean, I thought the first person you have sex with is special to you,” I said.  “We shared that together.”

I felt Lara tense up slightly.

“What?” I asked.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that James is not special, or anything.” 

I wasn’t even sure if what I just said was relevant, or even made sense, but I didn’t want to offend Lara. 

She ignored my remark anyway. 

“Did Julie tell you that you were her first?” she asked cautiously.

I felt a knot form in my stomach as I digested her words.

“What?  I…  I don’t know…  I think so.  I just assumed, I guess.”  Fear started gripping my chest.  “Are you saying… she’s been with someone else?”

Lara was silent.  I already knew the answer.  I was pretty sure who it was, too.  The gears of memory cranked through all those times there seemed to be some hint of an underlying dark current with Julie, and suddenly some of the events with Becky became amazingly clear.  The sex made more sense now, too.

“John,” I said quietly.

Lara put her hand on mine, and nudged me.  I slid over towards the wall, and Lara lay down next to me.

“I’m sorry Matt.  I thought you knew.”  Her voice had turned throaty and pensive.

“No, she said she had fooled around with him.  It came up when that thing with Becky happened.  But that’s all she said.”

“I figured, but I thought she had told you everything then.”

The wind outside was getting worse.  I felt the room slowly turning, and the knot in my middle was spreading up through my chest.  How could she not have told me? 

“Did Julie tell you anything… else?” asked Lara. 

I thought I heard a catch in her voice.

“About?”

“I don’t know.  Anything.”

“No, she just mentioned John.  Is there something else I should know about?”

More silence.  Lara was clearly debating something in her head.  I could almost hear her demons myself.  I was feeling really anxious and nervous already, but nothing could have prepared me for what Lara said next.

“Julie and I also have been together.”

The bed felt like a bad carnival ride that was suddenly spinning out of control.  I wasn’t even sure I had heard her right.  I stiffened, trying to keep from feeling ill. 

‘Be careful what you wish for!’ a voice cackled in the back of my head. 

When the world stopped whirling, I heard Lara crying softly.

“I’m so sorry, Matt.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

My nerves, which had been tightly wound but intact all week, had been shattered like icicles by a bat. 

“Go away,” I croaked.

“Matt, please,” Lara pleaded.

“Just go.  Now.” I whispered.

Lara lay there frozen for a moment, and then she slowly got up off my bed and walked out of the room. 

I wasn’t sure if I would ever get up out of bed again.  Crazy thoughts of John and Julie, of Lara and Julie flowed through my head, like the stream of water through those jagged holes in the ice we used to make as kids. 

What had they done?  Why hadn’t Julie told me? 

And Lara?  I thought she would have surely told me, after everything I had shared with her.  I felt completely left out and betrayed, like I was the object of some ridiculous joke.  John and Julie I could sort of deal with, since I didn’t even know John.  But Lara and Julie?  I mean, were they together while she was with me?  What were they even doing?  Everything special I thought I had shared with Julie was suddenly worthless, in shambles.  My sister had been there before I had, and I didn’t even know it.  All this time I had confided in her, and all along, she had kept this from me!

My brain was about to explode.  I felt like madness was peeking in through the thin veil that barely contained my thoughts, threatening to let them loose.  It was uncontrollably frightening.  I convulsed in the bed for a while, as my thoughts wrestled my very body around. 

I had always thought it would be interesting to see some part of insanity, but now I was terrified.  I couldn’t suppress the deep emotions of jealousy, embarrassment and betrayal that were ripping through me, like a hurricane across a paper flag, forcing me to have a firsthand look at what the landscape of the crazy mind was. 

Light.  I needed light.  I turned on the lamp by my bed.  That grounded me some, at least physically. 

After crying quietly in desperate anguish for a while, I shuddered and stood up.  Pacing my room, I tried to put the visions of Julie having sex with John and Lara out of my head. 

And that’s when I saw it.  It was sticking out from under my book bag, which I had thrown carelessly on my desk after school.  I knew what it was: the edge of a funny sized envelope, a size I knew to be from only one person.  My hands trembled as I slid the envelope out from under my sack.  There were none of the happy, cute drawings that had adorned Julie’s previous envelopes.  I had a feeling the worst day of my life was about to get worse.  I opened the letter, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. 

Dear Matt, 

I’m really sorry I have not written you.  I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but I’ve been torn apart because of it for the last few months.  I saw your aunt, and I was worried she would tell you first.  I hope you can forgive me.  I made a mistake, I hooked up with a guy called Brian at a party.  I was drunk and wasn’t thinking.  I’m kind of going out with him, now.  I guess it’s been really hard not seeing you, harder than we thought it would be.  I feel like such a bitch.  I don’t know what else to say, but I’m really sorry.  I was so scared to tell you, but I didn’t want you to be mad.  I’m sorry.  You probably hate me now.  I hope we can still be friends again if you ever come back to Montauk.

Sorry,

Julie

I crumpled the letter up, and cast it across the room as hard as I could.  I was sure it would burn a hole through the wall, but it just bounced off and fell harmlessly onto my desk. 

After sitting on the bed for a few long moments, I stood up, almost robotically, and walked out of my room.  The hall was dark.  I slipped out the side door, and went silently into the night.  The snow was almost ten inches deep, and it was still falling very heavily.

I felt oddly calm and not the least bit cold as I walked up into the woods behind our house.  My shirt whipped around me in the hard wind as I walked straight to a small mound of snow up behind the guesthouse.  After brushing aside some snow, I pulled out a mostly full bottle of whiskey from our stash.  I took a long guzzle of the icy hot liquid.  It went down smoother than water. 

I decided I was going to drink myself to death, or die trying.

Forward to Chapter 7

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