Senior Stories: Gillian Lombart

1. College Changes Everything

Gillian didn't know what to say, so she just sat there in the silence watching Matthew's hands fiddle around uncomfortably. It seemed as if he was looking for a position that would seem natural, but instead his movements appeared forced and in the end no placement of his hands, either on his knees or together in his lap, would have the appearance of a relaxed pose. She just stared at his hands in the silence, waiting for it to be all over.

"I got in," he said. "I got in to Chicago."

Gillian's eyes lifted from his hands to his face. It is not like the announcement was made out of the blue, she had seen it coming. The two had talked about schools and talked about applying together; staying close with each other, but Gillian's father could never come up with the money, so deadlines passed.

"You got in," Gillian said in a flat voice. I was trying to sound happy for him, but I couldn't muster the higher pitch.

"Gilly?" He unraveled his hands from each other and placed them on top of hers. "You can come if you want."

"No." Gillian swallowed, tasting the salt of my tears building up in the back of her throat. "You deserve this. You've busted your ass and you got in. What would I do in Chicago any way? It's too cold."

"You could study. Maybe go to the community college out there and when you are done you could transfer. Please?"

"I can't."

"Yes you can. You could just leave; they would find a way to get by. You can't take care of everyone." Matthew was holding her hands tighter now. The folds of his brown hands opened to show a peek of mauve, then wrapped back over the childlike hands engulfing them in a sea of caramel.

"You know that will never happened. My dad needs me. With my mom gone I have no choice."

Matthew put his arms around Gillian and pulled her back on the couch. They sat there in the silence once again, letting it wrap them up like a cocoon. Gillian curled up and laid her head on his lap. His thick hands began stroking Gillian head. Petting her like a cat or a small sleeping child. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing, tried to stay in the moment, but every ounce of Gillian's body was starting to get angry.

"This isn't fair," she thought but then pushed the words out of her mind and focused on making it out the door without her emotions getting the best of her.

"I have to go," Gillian pushed herself up of his lap trying not to make eye contact, grabbing a sweatshirt from the loveseat and pulling it over her head.

"You sure you don't want to stay for dinner? My mom is making steak and potatoes," Matthew said. Gillian struggled to get up off the couch; Matthew shifted his position allowing her to squirm free from the weight of his body.

"Naw, I have to be home to help Andie get ready for school tomorrow. And I have a funny feeling make dinner too."

"Gilly, you are going to be cool? Right?"

"I am just... " she stalled trying not to let the anger and frustration of her situation at home taint the goodbye. "No I will be fine. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do. Don't worry your pretty little head about me." She reached out and gently knocked a fist to his shoulder. "I got this."

"What I am afraid is you got too much. Gills, I want you to come with me. I won't leave until July or August so you have time to plan."

"I have to go." Gillian looked up into Matthew's brown eyes. "We can talk about this later at lunch."

Matthew walked her up the stairs from his basement bedroom. Along the way Gillian counted the family photos on the wall. There were 18, one portrait for every year of Matthew's life. She doubt her father could even find her sixth grade photos. It was the year before Gillian's mom left for her first job in Colorado; when things like school photos were a no brainer.

"You know I love you right?" Matthew said leaning against the doorframe. She took one last look at him forging a memory of his beauty and tender worry deep into her mind. He always looked like he was in such pain when he leaned up against his locker in the halls and closed his eyes in a deep thought. Gillian nodded slowly while looking down at her feet.

"I know," Gillian said kissing him on the cheek. "Night."

It wasn't until she heard the door closed that Gillian Lombart let the tears fall down her cheek; they were quickly wiped away. She had never been a loud crier, it must of come from never wanting to get caught by other people and exposing what she thought was a weakness. Matthew had changed that. Gillian let her guard down around him. She learned to relax, have fun and most of all he helped her discover who she really was deep down inside.

The car was like and oven. Gillian had only been at Matthew's for an hour or so, but black leather draws heat - not to mention it had been in the 70s all day. The car was a gift from her grandmother before she died. It was the only place that Gillian truly let her guard down, as long as no one else was in the car with her. The massive vehicle had become a second home for her, not just a way to run the errands her parents couldn't manage, but a means of escape from the tension and anger that seemed to ooze out the walls at home.

The wave of sadness and anger had drifted away during the 15-minute drive back to Gillian's house. She was even starting to feel happy for Matthew, but that was until Gillian pulled up in front of the house and saw the recycling bin that the anger came rushing back. It was overflowing again, this time with vodka bottles and a handful of magazines. Her father didn't even get it together to sort the magazines out. Three months ago it was just beer cans.

"Breathe," Gillian said as she grabbed her book bag and took a deep breath and headed for the front door.