Through the Break in Her Hair

Chapter 30

Lindsey became a distant island that I could only see from afar, unreachable and untouchable by my efforts alone. She stopped showing up for our speed dates, intentionally ignored me in our Geometry class, avoided me in the hallway and lunch room. The confusion was frustrating, wearying me. What did I do wrong? Why won't she talk to me? But the days turned into weeks, and her silence remained.

My heart lurched every time I saw her, remembering the expressionless gaze, the blank stare she gave me after we... I flew back from her, apologizing profusely. "I'm sorry," I muttered over and over but Lindsey didn't want to hear it. She tore from the room, leaving me and her flowers there to wilt in the dark.

My gift abandoned me too. Poof, all the voices...gone. I thought it was a weird inner ear thing like vertigo or an infection, but I was wrong. Shortly after Lindsey left the room, my they started to ring. The sound buzzed, vibrating the inside of my cranium. A heavy weight dropped into my skull and flattened me to the ground.

I stayed there, moaning on the floor, until a couple of band kids found me and ran out to get help. When my parents got to the school, I told them the same thing I told the teachers-- it was just a headache. But, by the way my mother was scrutinizing me, I knew that there were more questions to come.

I sat in the backseat of the car, trying my best to contain the guilt and the shame that was pock marking my soul. "John," her voice was as soft as sheets billowing in the wind. "Did something happen between you and Lindsey tonight?"

I didn't respond, just stared down at my trembling hands, and watched a single tear fall onto my lap. That must have confirmed her suspicion.

I called Van like a hundred times that week. I wanted to know what he saw in my future, or if the same thing happened to him--if his gift had vanished too. But the only answer I got was from his sister, Mindy. And she either didn't feel responsible to tell me his whereabouts or he had bribed/blackmailed her into keeping her mouth shut. For all I knew, Van was snaking his way into someone else's life, or summoning another demon. Unhelpful git.

So, I decided that with (if he ever called me back) or without his help, I was going to prove to Lindsey that I was sorry, that I still wanted to be with her. I couldn't take all the credit for that idea though. My parents sat me down after they were, "tired of me moping around," and encouraged me to be a man, to suck it up! Just kidding. Although, those exact words probably crossed my dad's mind. But with all sincerity, they wanted me to try to work things out.

It was a week before Christmas break and I still hadn't made any progress with Lindsey. She hadn't consciously glanced my way in over a month, and we hadn't spoken in two. Being so close in proximity to her, yet being so far away at the same time, was absolutely murderous. The phrase, I have to do more, kept playing on repeat. But what could I do?

While it's true that gifts aren't the way to a woman's heart, at least not all women, I hoped that in Lindsey's case it would work, if only a little. And not just the gift, but the meaning behind it.

I found it while I was out shopping with my mom. She drug me out into the snow and the chilly wind to buy her estranged sister a cashmere scarf. For what reason, I couldn't tell you. All I knew was that I was being sequestered by a woman with nary an idea of what she was looking for as she milled circles in a department store.

I didn't care if this one was softer than the last. I did not care if my mother could use a coupon and save "x" amount of dollars. And I did not care if it matched my dumb aunt's eyes! All I wanted was to go play some video games! Was that too much to ask for?!

Who was it that said, "suffering builds character"? Because they were wrong. Suffering built boredom, and touching of all the things on all of the shelves to busy the hands while one's mind melted and dripped their ears. Maybe that's just what shopping with mothers did to you. Who knows.