our last summer. (e.m)

eleven: metamorphosis.

the week has come and gone.
i have seen reed every night,
i have seen nancy every morning,
and i have seen eddie in every direction i've turned.
whether he's physically there or not,
he's lingering in this town like the ghost of my past, present, and future.
tonight is the same.
reed picks me up,
opens the car door for me,
drives us to eat then takes our date somewhere secluded to be cloaked in darkness while he kisses me raw.
sometimes he lets his hands wander too high up and i have to push them away.
he apologizes for breaching that boundary every time,
though he never does stop trying.
these dates are growing tedious,
i have to admit it.
i miss the excitement that followed eddie.
i miss him in his entirety.
"can we do something different tonight?"
reed picks his head up from the menu,
lowers his head with a laugh to ask,
"i'm getting boring, aren't i? i knew it. i just...i'm sorry. i thought it was comfortable but it's just boring."
he slams the menu down playfully,
stands with elation,
takes my hand and out of the restaurant we go.
we're cruising the streets on the way to our next expedition when i catch a glimpse of the very saint i love so deeply from the corner of my eye.
eddie is watching reed and i fly through the night together,
hand in hand.
this should be us.
i think bitterly,
but snap out of it once i realize how wrong it is to entertain such cruelties.
a cigarette hangs from eddie's lips as he leans against the brick wall,
wearing that leather jacket i know so well.
my eyes may be playing tricks on me,
creating delusions so that i'll see what i want to see,
but i swear a mocking grin hangs on his lips.
i want to be by his side now more than anything i've ever wanted.
"babe?"
i turn back to see reed and i hate how deeply my discontent runs.
"everything okay?"
when he looks to see eddie lounging adjacent to us,
reed turns back to me with a grin.
"man, that guy is weird."
"don't be an asshole."
"woah!"
he exclaims with his hands up in mock surrender.
"i forgot you two were a thing."
"we were never a thing. your buddy just got his ass whooped and decided to call me a whore for it."
reed sighs into the palm of his hand and holds my waist.
i hate how gentle he is.
and i hate how sweet he is.
it should be easy to hate him but it isn't,
not in the slightest.
this guilt hangs in my heart.
"jason's always been an egotistical asshole, okay? everyone knows what he says isn't true. but...eddie munson is weird, okay? that's just, like, a fact of life."
i turn to see if eddie is still there and he is.
his fixed look burns holes through me;
i can feel the hatred emitting from those eyes that once held nothing but admiration for me.
how it hurts.
suddenly reed pulls me into him with such force and might,
that i can't pull away,
no matter how hard i try.
the spare second i let my guard down,
he's taken advantage of it in hopes of flaunting me;
like am a reward he's won,
an achievement he's accomplished.
i push and push but his lips will not come off from mine,
until i gain the strength to knee him in the gut.
he immediately pulls away to double over.
i find satisfaction in his groans of pain.
i should have known this entire facade of reed's was just that:
a facade.
nothing more than an act to string me along.
i can hear his friends now:
play nice and gentle and maybe she'll put out.
all i can focus on though is what eddie has seen.
i search for him but come up empty.
he's gone.
did he see what happened?
before he wandered off,
did he see how i handled my own?
does he understand now that i'm more than capable of standing up for myself?
will he come back now?
"you bitch,"
reed whispers through the breath i've rattled loose from his lungs.
through my own heaving breaths,
i spit,
"oh, fuck off."
i find no interest in trading insults with this snake i've locked lips with.
i run home instead.
while my feet pound against the pavement,
thoughts pound against my skull.
here's the truth:
i do not think love is only a feeling.
i do believe it is an action,
like everything else.
we must choose who is worthy of our heart,
we must deliberate on who is deserving of our trust,
and we must carefully strip ourselves back to lay bare to one another.
all of these actions summed into one word:
love.
to love,
to be loved,
to receive it and to give it.
but what good is love if it is not built to last?
and really,
what good has love done my bloodline?
my father and mother are suppose to be best friends,
yet here i am:
a girl left robbed of a father.
and he?
a man left abandoned, alone, severed.
the parents before my own were separated by life's twisted hands themselves,
one scarred with adultery and the other painted in sin.
i am a childish girl,
i am naive.
i always thought love would find me and i would be safe from this curse.
what am i now but a puddle of tears?
wet against my skin like they will dry up and give me an answer through the saline streaks on my cheeks.
what good has this hope brought me?
nothing more than a stolen kiss and a broken soul.
eddie is the flame of my heart.
i feel his white-hot betrayal in each of my pulses.
no matter how much i might like to,
i will never hate eddie.
he was my first love,
before i even knew what that meant.
he picked me up with scraped knees,
he held me during rowdy thunderstorms,
he wiped my tears,
he picked flowers for me,
he made me jewelry,
he was always my prince charming.
eddie munson is the man my heart was built around.
how could i insult my existence by lounging with another man?
one who will never amount to what i feel for eddie?
the typhoon of emotions that circle my irises,
all for eddie.
i couldn't ever fathom forming the words to tell the truth aloud so i shall say them silently:
"i'm in love with eddie munson and he will never want me."
"clover girl? you're home early."
i find myself home now.
i'm leaning against the front door while my legs shake and burn,
both from the exertion and the pain rippling from my chest.
i cannot find strength anymore.
my father sits on the couch with a book in hand and his glasses on,
like he's done every night this week.
he has not gone up to bed until he knows i've returned home safe.
and for the small action,
my heart bleeds.
"have you been crying?"
i touch my cheek and feel the proof of tonight's deception against my cheeks.
my father gets up and i think for  second he might be coming to hug me,
but he goes into the kitchen instead.
when he comes back into the living room,
he's holding a remedy of sorts,
meant for someone who might be bedridden with an illness.
though i guess in some sense,
i am.
i'm sick with grief over a love i'll never have again.
"come sit down with me. you feeling okay?"
"i don't think i'll ever feel okay again,"
i say dramatically.
it feels nice to have this melancholy tongue of mine work again.
i sit beside him as he cracks open a can of ginger ale for me then slides it closer my way.
i know what the gesture is saying:
drink.
i don't have much of a choice,
so i line the rim of the can up to my lips and swallow the carbonated medicine.
"i swear that stuff is magic. it always makes me feel better,"
my father shares.
when i don't say anything in reply,
he rests a loving hand to my shoulder and says gently,
"what's wrong with my clover girl?"
sobs swell in my chest.
my nose burns and my throat constricts with the threat of tears.
i hold it until i no longer can;
i burst and the tears fall quicker than i can wipe away.
my father,
who i have never known to embrace me in more than his hand to my shoulder,
brings me into his chest and let's me cry.
how long have i waited for this?
how many nights have i spent crying on my own,
wishing for this?
i wail as hard as i can.
this desolation has been weighing on my chest so heavily,
that letting it free in the arms of my father promises healing.
and god,
does it feel good to be hugged by him.
i burn the scent of my father into my mind as i lay motionless on his chest.
his hand soothes up and down my back as i do this.
these are the things i want to take home with me,
not the divorce and our estrangement.
this.
my mint smelling father who wears reading glasses,
makes the worlds best clam cakes,
cooks spaghetti with me,
listens to the chirping birds in the early mornings,
and excessively cooks because of his siblings.
"i know i haven't been the father you deserved and needed, clover, but i'm here for you now. if you want me here, know that i am. i always will be."
he kisses the top of my head and i swear i hear his voice crack when he says,
"i love you, y/n."
i don't know how long it's been since he's said my actual name,
but to hear it curl from his tongue makes me grateful to have it.
"i messed up, dad. i messed up horribly."
"tell me what happened."
and so,
i do.
i tell my father eddie munson and i met up,
though i omit the parts where he snuck in and i snuck out.
i tell him how i have always been in love with eddie and am only just realizing it.
i tell him how reed hates me now and i hate him,
how he staked a false claim on me,
but was somehow so sweet when it mattered.
his expression doesn't change the entire time.
he keeps the same stoic face i always remembered.
i'm almost glad for it.
i have enough emotion coursing through my veins right now,
to have to cater to his would only exhaust me further.
until i tell him about the awful men i've encountered. the scarlet A on my chest branded there by a man who almost hit me,
the insult hurled towards my mother,
the gross possessiveness of reed.
only then does the shadow of paternal protection cover his face.
"you tell me where these sons of bitches are and i'll make sure they never lay a hand on you or any woman ever again."
i've never seen him angry like this,
nor have i seen him promise an act of confrontation for my sake.
and for the first time ever,
i hear the rhode island accent slip from where it's been hidden all this time.
this is something entirely new and i can't help but to smile.
he does care about me.
"it's fine. i gave him a hard knee to the chest."
my dad chuckles and rewards me with a high-five.
"yeah! that's my girl."
i'd always seen the girls in movies go bright with pride when their fathers used that very phrase.
i wonder how similar i look to them now.
when the silence settles and i'm no longer hiccuping on my own breaths,
but drinking this magical liquid,
my father asks,
"do you want to hear about the first argument your mother and i ever had?"
i swallow hard at the question.
then i wipe my eyes to say,
"yes."
"it was sophomore year of college and i found out she'd been seeing one of her professors."
i blink at him in hopes he'll continue,
but he doesn't.
so i ask through my gaping mouth,
"what?"
"she was dating a professor,"
he echoes.
my mother had never struck me as the type to seek the validation only a man in power could give,
but it begins to make sense when i think of it.
i imagine her younger and filled with life,
sneaking around in the night to see her forbidden lover.
then i imagine my father with less grey hairs and smoothed skin.
i've never pictured them my age before,
but in doing so fills my heart up.
the lives they led before i was conjured up seem almost perfect.
what could have been...
"i was so madly in love with her and didn't even realize it until she told me about him. how they'd been meeting up after hours, how he took her out of town on dates, how he graded her papers with favoritism. i saw red for days on end."
i see the look of love gloss his eyes and it pains me.
tell him what she did to you.
tell him that she is not someone to be admired anymore because she is merely a snake amongst prey.
don't let him sit in this faith of her forever.
before the confessing words can slip through my lips,
my father continues,
"i begged her not to keep seeing him, that he was only using her. she brushed me off and told me i was being dramatic. but i didn't let up. i pleaded with her until finally, she asked me if i was jealous."
he clears his throat before saying anything more,
"at first, i was shocked. like it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever asked me. then it all started to make sense. all the time i spent by her side, somewhere along the way, i'd fallen for her. so i admitted that. oh, she was furious. she yelled at me for being a selfish prick, for standing in the way of her happiness...she came to me after they ended things because she found out he was married. it was devastating for her and honestly? i don't know if she ever recovered."
there's a sad smile on his lips now.
"wow...i never knew that."
"why would you? you were a kid and then things unraveled before we knew it."
i sigh harder now.
i want to tell him but i decide against it.
i'll save that conversation for later,
when my fathers love for my mother has lessened.
but i know if i wait for that day,
i'll be six feet under by then.
"point is, eddie thinks he's doing you a favor. the same way i thought i was doing your mom a favor by letting her figure things out on her own."
i chew on my bottom lip at the connection.
i hate how much sense my father is making.
"if i had shown her sooner or maybe even helped her more, she might have never been as...as wrecked as she was. help eddie. help him see that you don't need protecting. don't wait in silence like i did."
"but, dad...i didn't leave eddie. he left me."
he nods.
"i know. and eddie munson is a damn fool for that. but all he sees is a damned fate. do you see that?"
i shake my head.
"no."
"then convince him. make him understand you're willing to brave whatever life throws at you together because you love him."
i bite at my cuticle before i ask him,
"and what if he doesn't love me back?"
my father smiles.
"that boy has loved you since he could count the beats of his heart, clover. you have nothing to worry for."
he's waiting for me to say something more,
but i don't.
i'll wait on telling him about my wounded mother.
i don't have the energy for it right now.
i stare at the drying tear stains on my fathers shirt when i say,
"thank you, dad."
he nods his head in welcoming.
"always. you're a bright girl, clover. no guy is good enough for you, but i hope you find something great in eddie. really, i just hope you get the best out of this life. god knows you deserve it."
my father runs a parental hand of care down my cheek.
"and i'm sorry about what happened. your trust was betrayed, your space was violated, and those assholes deserve to rot in a cell. say the word and i'll have it handled."
tears well up again at this embrace.
the void in my heart,
ripped from the flesh in his absence,
is being taken care of with time.
i shaky my head to dismiss the situation so i can say instead,
"i love you."
my fathers smile breaks into one of gentle joy then kisses the top of my head.
i feel eight again.
eight years old and blissfully ignorant to what this cruel world can do to one's soul.
"and i love you, my clover girl. get some rest."
i take his words with me and let them soak into my brain as i fall asleep in his arms.
maybe this time,
i'll wake up with answers.
***
i wake up to the sound of the phone ringing and find that blankets cover me,
along with a pillow tucked under my head.
had my father done this for me before he went to bed?
i fight the urge to burst into tears again;
everything is catching up with me and the simple action of love from my father is enough to soften me.
i hurry to answer the phone where i'm met with a furious nancy wheeler.
not only has that asshole reed stomped all over the promise of consent,
but he's also driven eddie further away from me.
and that's not something neither nancy or i can forgive.
"i knew he was faking it! that cleaned up act didn't fool me for a second."
i'm quiet when nancy says this.
because apparently,
he had me fooled.
as though she's read my mind,
nancy sighs to say,
"he didn't have you fooled either, y/n. i mean...really? dinner and a make out? you saw it coming from a mile away, even if you don't want to believe it."
i lean my back against the wall and sigh.
that much is true:
i didn't want to believe it.
i wanted so badly to have an escape from eddie that i kept my eyes adverted from reed's red flags,
like a fool.
i'm paying for my mistakes now.
"i just wish eddie would actually let me explain. but every time i see him, he rushes off."
"well...you could guerrilla attack him. you know, catch him at home."
i shake my head despite the fact nancy can't see me do so.
"nah. it would just push him further away. i promised i'd meet him halfway."
"ugh...what are we going to do, y/n l/n? these boys are driving us insane."
i smile as an idea crosses my mind.
"you and i are going to forget about these boys and do our own thing. pool?"
nancy is loud and proud when she cheers,
"yes, pool!"

the suntan lotion smells wonderful hanging in the air.
it cleanses my lungs of the melancholy it's gotten so accustomed to;
it reminds me how simply wonderful life can be when i stop to enjoy it.
"see, this is nice. no boys to ruin our day, no drama. just you and i, as it always should have been."
i smile at nancy's words.
she's right.
it always should have been her and i lounging at the pool together on summer days.
i'm glad we're able to do it now.
"hey, nance?"
"hm?"
"what's college like?"
she groans at the question,
since it's summer and i've brought up the forbidden.
but once she sees how fearful i look,
she answers without hesitation,
"it's an adjustment at first. everything is new, you're kind of on you're own, you're freer than you've ever been before. after the shock wears off though, you become everything you've ever wanted to be. and people accept it because they're going through their own metamorphosis."
metamorphosis.
i let the word ring in my mind until it becomes nothing but gibberish;
an echo of syllables.
"what if you don't know what you want to be?"
i question.
i know what my father has said,
but to hear it from nancy,
the active college woman i've deemed my sister,
is an entirely different answer.
"then you'll fit right in. nobody really knows. we're all figuring it out as we go."
relief succumbs me into its loving arms.
it wraps me up tight as this new perspective has been handed to me.
i don't have to know what i want right now.
isn't that just wonderful.
"my own metamorphosis."
"yep. and you'll be the most beautiful butterfly to emerge, clover girl."
nancy has taken up the role of my big sister again and i love her even more for it.
i don't want to think about this being our last summer because truthfully?
i know it will last forever in the sanctuary of my mind.
never fading,
never blotted over with missing details.
it is burned into me like a branding.
i will carry it forever.