Love In Actuality

7: Aaron

Slamming doors woke me up on Sunday. My mom and sister strolled

through the house, obviously not caring that Sunday was my I-just-went-to-bedfour-hours-ago-I-was-partying-too-hard day. 

“Hey!” Laila yelled at me. “You’re still not up? My God. It’s almost noon.” I

swear, the girl had no idea that some people might actually like to keep their

hearing. 

“Lai, indoor voice, please.” She made a face and went to put away the

many shopping bags she was carrying. I forced myself off the sofa to go see

Mom. She was a lot more worried about us ever since Kyree had been put in the

hospital. Thought one of us was going to be next. I found her by the kitchen

table, writing fiercely into the checkbook. She looked up when I pulled the chair

back and made the loudest noise ever, next to Lai. 

“Hey, kid. What’s up?”

“Not much. Did you get anything good?”Her eyes lit up and then she started rambling on about every single article

of clothing she had seen. I was practically falling asleep again when she asked

me, “So. How’s that girl that was in the hospital?”

“Kyree is fine. I think she got out a few days ago.” I shrugged. 

“That’s good. Good for her. I wonder what she was in for in the first

place….surely nobody would have pushed her into the water…” I promised I

wouldn’t tell….I promised I wouldn’t tell…I chanted it over and over in my head in

an attempt to make it stick. But, what harm could my mother do? There’s no

social humiliation between middle-aged housewives…no harm, right?

“Don’t tell, but she went in herself.”

My mother’s eyes grew to be as big as golf balls. “Really?” She drew out

the word. I nodded. “Oh, that poor girl. Such a sad story. Oh, I bet there’s

something wrong with her family.” 

“They left her a long time ago. Mom, Dad, and sister. Just deserted her.

She lives with her aunt now.” 

She thought about this for a moment. “Aaron, I think you should ask that

girl out.” I sat there, frozen. “I mean, think about it. She just needs some love,

and then she’ll be good again!”

“No, Mom,” I said, but it’s hard to argue about a depressed teen with a

physiatrist. 

“Aaron Massif,” she commanded. 

When she got like this there was really no point in arguing with her, so I

just gave in and went to go find my phone. If I didn’t, she would keep going on

about how Kyree wasn’t loved enough  until I felt extremely guilty about it. Best to

just get it over now,. 

I had to call my phone to find it, digging through the various piles on my

bedroom floor to finally realize that it was not, in fact, underneath the piles but

actually in the bushel. I swear, cleaning just comes back to bite you. I dialed and

waited for her to pick up, but the dang thing rang so many times that I almost

hung up. At the last minute, she answered, laughing. “Hello?” I heard somebody

in the background, and then they were both laughing. Well. I could totally tell herdepression. Maybe it was just an act. Maybe she actually was just looking for

attention, like all my friends said. What a twist that would be on this tragic life

story. 

“Hey. Kyree? It’s Aaron.”

The laughter stopped. In the background, I heard somebody ask where

she was going. Away from me, she said, “I’ll be right back.” And then, more

calmly, “Hey, Aaron. What’s up?” 

“Not much. You?”

“Same.” This pretty much ended our conversation. It was silent for quite a

few seconds, and I wondered what she was doing. 

This was edging towards embarrassing-awkwardness. “So, listen. What

are you doing this Friday?” 

She paused, and for a minute I wasn’t sure I was even talking to her

anymore.  Maybe she’d hung up in the silence. Wouldn’t have blamed her.  “Um,

nothing, I don’t think. Why?” 

Oh, God. Was I really doing this? Down the hall, I heard my mother

banging around with the dishes. I had to. I sucked in a breath and swallowed the

lump in my throat. You know, after doing this since middle school, you would

think that I would be better. But I wasn’t, and Kyree was waiting. “Would you

maybe like to go out with me? Friday evening?”

She gasped. I thought it was a gasp. It was either a gasp, or a sigh.

Definitely one of the two.  “Sure, Aaron. I’d love to.”

 “Great. I’ll pick you up at six on Friday. And, we’ll be going to the fancy

restaurant, so dress nice, okay?”

“Yeah. Bye, Aaron.”  

And for some weird reason, I found myself smiling when I hung up the

phone.