One Page #39

I never knew where I was with her. I looked into her eyes and saw an emptiness covered by desperation. Even when they were radiating happiness. I still never knew. Her bangs fell over her eyes and nearly touched her cheeks that bloomed out in the summer heat, flushed and freckled. The corners of her lips curved into a smile that was almost mocking. She told me once that she was determined not to get frown lines so she drew her mouth into this awkward smile, even when she didn’t want to be smiling. You could tell because her eyes were blank, flat, unless she was really smiling and then they shone with an amused twinkle. She was hard to read. I finally gave up trying to understand. Usually the tone of her voice was the only hint. And even then her smooth soft voice didn’t fluctuate too much. But she squeezed my hand and goose bumps would jump up on her arm, sending the small blonde hairs erect. Then I knew she was happy. And I was happy. And I squeezed back. Out on the pier we escaped her mother’s watching eyes. Always watching. Looking. She didn’t scold or offer opinions. She just looked. It made us both nervous, especially me since I wasn’t quite used to it yet. I hoped I would get used to it though. If this lasted. And I thought it might. But with a girl who is hard to read, you never really know. I was always questioning myself. And that was exhausting. When the moon rose and the stars came out and they reflected on the waves that rolled in without ceasing and the pier emptied when everyone went home, we sat on the end with our legs over the edge and felt the chill settle in. I would let go of her hand and put my arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. She would nestle in. I couldn’t see her eyes then, and could only read her by how much she relaxed and let herself fall into me. Otherwise, I had no idea. But that was ok right then. I figured that she would be off with her other friends if she didn’t want to be there with me. And so I relaxed to and let me head fall lightly onto hers and we watched the swells and an occasional gull fly by, diving for fish, or looking for a place to rest. We heard the sea lions as they barked out to sea, calling to the horizon. The sharp smell of fish caught in my nose and I sighed. Another day had passed, so quickly that I hardly remembered what had happened. Next week I would go home, the car packed, and my brothers squashed into the backseat, my crossword puzzle book on the lap. But I would be staring out the window, pen poised. The ocean would fall away, and her eyes would fall away, and once again I would return. With her body held close I leaned over and saw our reflection in the water far below.