waiting for spring

chapter five: christian jones

I told Liz what happened yesterday. I told her about Chris.
"He's coming over tomorrow." I tell her.
"Ooooo! Is he hot?"
"Yup!"
"Are you into him, Gracie?"
"...A little bit..." I admit. Sometimes it's hard to tell Liz secrets. She either tries to help, by telling people, or as she calls it, "spills".
"Well anyways, I'm glad that Keith won't be bothering us anymore. How's your nose feeling?"
"It hurts. It's not that bad though. I'll live."
"Okay, good. Sorry he did that."
I look at my clock. 1:34. It's early for me, but Liz really should go to bed. She has a text tomorrow. "Liz, it's getting late. You should go to bed." she nods and goes into my room.
"What about you?"
"I'll go to bed in a few. You're the one with a test tomorrow." She smiles and closes the door. I go in the living room. I'm lonely. I'm always lonely. Even when I'm around people. I decide to text Chris.
Hey
I immediately regret it. He's probably not even awake. But, he reads it.
Hey. What's up?
Wow. Okay...
Nm just bored. Wbu?
Same. Are you ok?
Yeah I'm good.
Ok good.
He's so sweet.
Yup☺️
😊
Now what do I say? I didn't expect him to answer.
Why are you up so late Gracie?
I could ask the same for you Chris
Yeah I guess you can. How's your nose?
Oh my god. I really think I love him.
It's a little better
Good. Don't worry about Keith ever bothering you 2 again
I won't. Thanks
No need to thank me
I'm smiling. I don't remember the last time I smiled at my phone.
So, I'll see you tomorrow? He says.
Can't wait😉
Night😉
Night😊
Wow. That's the word of the day. Wow. After tomorrow I would be content with dying. Wow.
I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I look in the mirror, I realize I'm still smiling. Ugly. I hate myself. I would give my soul to satin to have someone else's face and body. I hate every inch of me. I hate my short, brown, straggly hair. I hate my too-big green eyes, my freckle filled face, my small mouth. I hate my thin arms and legs and waist. I hate my flat chest and small behind. I hate everything. Everything. Everything about me.

Everything.

I just don't wanna live. I bet no one else wants me to either. I should die. I want to die. I need to die.
I take out my razor.
I take off my bracelets.
I draw a line. A line between life and death. A line on my wrist. I line of blood. And it's okay. It's ok if I don't wake up tomorrow morning. That line resembles why I'm alive... because I tried dying.
• • • • •
It's Friday. Finally. The last period bell rings as my AP English teacher keeps blabbing on about some lame ass book. I rush out of the room when, "Ms. Woods, may I speak to you?" Mrs. Donnely calls. I turn around and painfully stroll over to her. "Grace, I'm a little worried about your grades. You don't seem to be participating much in class, but I know you understand the subject. Your test scores show that. But I was wondering, your so smart, why don't you speak up? Your grade is being effected by it a lot."
Fuck you.
"I guess I'm just shy. I'll try harder!" I try saying as enthusiastically and non-sarcastically as possible. "Well, that's good. I'll see you Monday, Grace!" I smile and wave but as soon as I walk out the door I'm cursing that bitch. I just can't wait to see Chris.
Liz and I arrive home. We get dressed. Since it's not snowing, Liz wears her barely-a-shirt crop top and shorts (ridiculous) while I wear a Kansas T-shirt and leggings. My doorbell rings. The moment I've been dying for is here. I unlock my door to let Chris in. "Hi Gracie!" He says with his contagious smile. "Hi Chris!"
I lead him to my bedroom, Liz lying down on my bed texting someone. Of course. She looks up, "Hey cutie." Really? It's almost like all of the crushes I've had she's taken away from me. Let's see... James, Chuck, Daniel...
Anyways, Chris blushes embarrassedly and replies, "Hi... Liz..."
She gets up, "Don't worry, I'll leave you two alone," She winks at me. I roll my eyes.
"Oh God," Chris walks over to my bookshelf of old CDs and examines them. Then he pulls out the album Nevermind by Nirvana. "You like Nirvana?" He asks surprised.
"Of course I do. Who doesn't?" He widens his eyes. I giggle, "What's your favorite song?"
"Wow. Um, Lithium. That's my favorite song. What about you?"
"No shit! That's my favorite too!" We both laugh. He nods his head over to my electric guitar. "You play?" I shake my head, "No, it's my dad's. He used to be in a garage band. He never had the chance to teach me to play, though."
"I could teach you."
"Wha-" he starts playing Lithium on my guitar so amazingly I want to kiss him. "Holy shit, Chris! You're amazing!" He smiles his hot ass dimpled smile and continues being awesome. He's left handed. I sit down on my bed and he sits next to me. I hope today never ends.
When the songs over I give him a round of applause. He smiles and blushes as he puts the guitar back on its stand. "Wow. I was never expecting you to be so talented. You're amazing." I walk over to my bookshelf and pull out The Ramones, "Do you know them?" I ask him.
"Next to Nirvana, they're my favorite."
"I know right! They were my dads favorite, and his inspiration for his band... Here it is!" I pull out my dads CD. They were called The Sinners. I pop open the CD player and put the disc in. For a few minutes, we listen to dads grunge/punk rock in silence. I think he likes it. "He's the lead singer and guitarist."
"He's fantastic! Can I meet him?" There was a long silence. I realize everything he's done. To me and to himself. I hate him. But I miss him. I don't know how to feel. "...maybe when he comes back..."
"Where is he?" I want to cry. But I can't. Not right now. I just want to see my dad again. But I want to see my sober dad. My gentle dad. My loving, caring dad. I love that dad. But I hate my drunk, abusive, careless dad.
"You don't have to tell me-" I interrupt him.
"Do you ever have that feeling when you miss someone you hate?" I say quietly. He looks at me for a second, then he gets it. He looks away, "Yeah, I know how you feel."
"My dad's in rehab, Chris. I don't know if I'm gonna see him again." I feel the warm tears well up in my eyes and drizzle down my cheek. I don't bother to wipe them away. I feel his hand on my back, it's comforting. "I'm sorry Gracie," I wipe away my tears and pretend like nothing ever happened. "Okay! Tell me about yourself, Chris. We don't really know each other."
"You wanna know about me?"
"Well, is your name Chris?" We laugh. It feels good to laugh with him.
"Okay, okay. My name is actually Christian, though. Christian Jones. I'm Puerto Rican, Columbian, and a little Irish. Ummm, my parents got divorced when I was 8... A year later my little sister got diagnosed with stage 4 brain cancer and..." He looks at me sorrowfully, "...she passed away 2 years ago." I put my hand on his back, the same way he did for me. He wasn't crying but he was sad.
"I'm sorry about that. I know how you feel." He shakes his head.
"No you don't,"
"My mom died 2 years ago, too." He looks at me. His eyes are helpless, but his face is apologetic. I'm sad but not crying. "Tell me more. Happy times," I say to him softly.
"Keith and I have been friends since first grade... until now. But that's okay. He's a desperate asshole, and I just gotta accept that. Then again, he was my only friend. But when I went to his party, I saw this really beautiful girl, and I told him... unfortunately. But if he didn't do what he did, I wouldn't still know that beautiful girl... and that's my life, really. I have a pretty boring life."
I'm confused. What pretty girl at the party? What did he mean? 'But if he didn't do what he did, I wouldn't still know that beautiful girl...' What did Keith do now? I don't fucking understand. Does he have a girlfriend? Is that who he's talking about? He can tell I don't get it. "You know who I'm talking about, right Gracie?" He smiles. I give him a confused look. I'm seriously lost right now.
Suddenly, I feel his hand on mine. Fuck. I get it now. He was talking about me. Oh my god. My heart is racing, popping out of my chest, fireworks in my body. I feel heat rising up in my cheeks. I'm just frozen. Just sitting there. I don't know what to do. Holy shit. I feel him slip away. I look up as he gets up and begins to walk out the door. "Wait!" I burst out. I get up and take both his hands. I pull him back to where we were sitting. His eyes are so big. So beautiful. A small smile spreads across his face, and soon spreads to mine.
I love him. I love everything about him. I love his big, brown eyes. I love his crooked smile. I love his coal black hair. I love his tall, strong build. I love everything about Christian Jones.
"You never told me about your life Gracie," he says quietly. My smile quickly fades. I look down at our entangled hands. I tighten mine so hopefully we will never part. Hopefully this moment will never end.
"Me and Liz met in pre-k. We stayed friends. My dad drank a lot. He beat me up every night. Every. Single. Night. He's been to rehab 6 times. He's there again. My mom yells-yelled- at me a lot. One day she had a heart attack and died. I live with my aunt Bella, but she's either at work or at her boyfriends house. I'm always alone. I only have one friend. I've never had a boyfriend though... and no ones ever told me I was pretty before," he squeezes my hands, "My name is Grace. Grace Jade Woods. I hate my life." I see him looking down at my bracelets. Then he looks into my eyes.
"Grace, are you okay?" I wasn't crying or anything. But I know what he means. I think he realizes what I do to myself. So I smile and whisper, "No." He looks back at my bracelets. "Is it really that noticeable, Christian Jones?" He lets go of my hands and rolls up the sleeve of his sweatshirt on his right arm. He has string bracelets that say Puerto Rico and Columbia on them on his wrist. He uneasily turns over his arm and I take his hand. I gently move his bracelets up his arm to discover scars and reopened scars and cuts and gashes. I cry.
He takes my arm and takes off my cuffs and bracelets. He slowly unveils my familiar lines and scars and X's and help me' s written with a razor on my wrist. He's the only one who knows. I haven't even told Liz. I haven't told Liz about anything. Anything. She thinks I'm just a happy-go-lucky teenager with no issues. "You're the only one who knows." I whisper through sniffles.
"You're the only one who knows about me too. Please don't tell anyone."
"Of course not... I can trust you to not tell Liz... or anybody, right?"
"I promise."
He wraps his arms around me and I do the same to him. I nuzzle my face into his shoulder and close my eyes. We hug for a long time. It feels good to hug him. Sometimes... all I need is a hug.