Edge of the Ravine

28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Like air to drowning lungs, so Charleston acted as a tonic to my weakened spirit. Steeped in a world of history and romantic charm, I saw the best of it every single day. From gorgeous grand houses on the water to the quaint little shops catering to the impressive demand of tourism, I found myself in a place I could instantly come to love.

      Everything here was better for me. Better apartment. Better job. Better scenery. And just an overall better sense of... me.

      I'd known I was a changed person the moment I stepped off that bus. There was a strength and confidence in my stride I knew had never been there before. I guessed that it had something to do with the fact that I was already at the bottom. From there, everything could only go up. And it did.

      Luck was on my side when I happened to see the 'Help Wanted' sign at an ice cream shop not fifteen minutes out of the station. With my experience in a kitchen as well as a diner, I was hired in the specific qualification that it was only a summer job. My new employer, Mrs. Holt, seemed incredibly relieved when I replied, "Any job is better than no job."

      It was Mrs. Holt who introduced me to Madeline carter. She was a woman of roughly fifty years with her pale white hair pulled back into a bum atop her head. Laugh lines stood out on her face, but there was a steeliness in her gray eyes that made me realize she was not some senile old lady. And I took her at her most serious when she informed me that, though she had a one-bedroom apartment left, it was in my best interest to find a roommate to cover the cost of rent. If I didn't pick up a second job—and soon—the rent was way out of my league.

      Taking her advice, I found myself spending most weekdays working at a mechanic shop and my weekends within the tiny confines of the ice cream shop. Somehow, they both rarely felt like work. And despite the sheer intensity of serving ice cream to a dozen screaming children an hour, I found myself enjoying my time with Mrs. Holt and her eighteen year old daughter, Rebecca.

      Of course, even two jobs wasn't enough to keep me alive, I finally posted a flyer advertising for a roommate at my job and at the local grocery store. In it, I specified the circumstances of the one-bedroom situation.

I'd already proven to myself that I didn't fall in with just anyone who paid me the slightest bit of attention. So it had to be someone who understands that I didn't just need someone to take up half the expenses. I needed a friend.

      Imagine my surprise when Rebecca answered my ad. I'd just gotten home from my cleaning job on Monday evening and there she was, standing outside my apartment with a grin on her face and my flyer in her hand. Raising my eyebrows, the other woman shrugged off the wall and gave me her most endearing smile. So often I'd seen that expression play on her mother's conscious that I really shouldn't have been surprised to find it playing on mine.

     "There's still room for one more?" She asked hopefully, her hazel eyes growing wide and pleading.

     "Does your mother even know you're here?" I demanded, turning my face from her so that she wouldn't see the smile I was desperately trying to hide.

     "What does it matter?" She countered as I turned the key in the lock. "I'm eighteen. Plenty old enough to make my own decisions."

     "And you still live with her. Anyway, you're going to college in a week."

     "Exactly! I'll still have my job at the shop and this place is actually closer to my school."

     "By a block and a half," I scoffed as I hung up my jacket.

     "Please, Oliver? I need to get out of that house. And it won't be any different from me living in a dorm, sharing a bedroom with you. Plus, it'll save me all the living quarters money that I will have more than enough to put towards rent. C'mon Oliver. Please?"

      Maybe it's because I desperately needed the financial release of a roommate. It could even have been the memory of Karen taking me on a whim. Or it just might have been because Rebecca was clearly not taking 'no' for an answer.  She was wearing me down with each smile. More than anything, though, I think I was just that much in need of a friend.

      No matter the reason, I added Rebecca Holt to the lease the very next day.

      Immediately she proved to be a big pain in the rear. And an indispensable friend.

      When she moved in, Rebecca had more clothes in one suitcase (out of five) that I had ever owned in my entire life. Of course, she also brought the art of interior decorating into the sparse living quarters that had horrified her the first night. Before I knew it there were elegant curtains framing each window, cacti plants on every flat surface, and band posters covering every vacant wall. As if a tornado had burst into my life, the messy teenager had created a storm of vibrancy in my dreary world. It was more fun than anything else I could have imagined.

      Of course, Rebecca wasn't entirely the happy-go-lucky girl one would be led to believe. Though philosophy wasn't actually her area of study, it certainly was a pastime she couldn't escape from. Often, I found her sitting with her legs hanging out the living room window, an old book of introspective quotes cradled in her hands. It was during those times that she was at her most thoughtful and her most understanding. And it was during one of those moments I revealed to her what I was.

      "I've never had a girlfriend before," I admitted in response to her distant question about the type of women I was attracted to.

      "Never? That's not right. I can't wait to meet someone. Everyone should fall in love at least once, don't you think? Especially while they are young," she mused, turning to stare out the window before returning her gaze to me.

      I felt my tongue pass over my lips and it felt as if my throat had become suddenly dry. "I have been in love before," I stated slowly, "just... not with a woman."

      Rebecca's eyes widened slightly, their size exaggerated by the lashes that framed them in a dark array. Seeing her expression, guilt overcame me and I almost began to explain why I hadn't told her sooner. Then I stopped myself. She had come to me and I had never made any advances toward her, not that I would. There was no reason for her to be uncomfortable and I would not act as if, by keeping my preferences to myself, I was somehow to blame for any discomfort she now felt.

      After a brief moment, however, her eyes returned to normal and a wide, eager smile pulled at her lips. Her expression was so animated and she turned fully to face me. With such a fierce hunger in her eyes, her next question shouldn't have surprised me.

      "So what was it like being in love?"