a Piece of Art

16.0 T H E T R U T H

   We didn't actually talk till Richard started the car. The window between him and the backside was closed, so it was just Parker and me.

   What came out of his mouth was the last thing I was expecting. I thought this could be because we hadn't texted in a few days, his date, my picture in the gallery, hell, even the bad weather, that seemed to get worse at each passing second. Never, and I mean ever would have believe what came out of his mouth. Now I understood why he seemed so troubled. 

   "So your name isn't Lizzie Turner, or Elizabeth Turner." It wasn't a question.

   I sighed. After a minute of silence, I admitted. "No, it isn't."

   "From the minute I saw you, you seemed familiar." He wasn't looking at me now.

   "How did you figure it out?" I was defeated. Mostly scared of what he would do with this new information.

   "Ironically, it was because of something you said. About being able to miss someone, but not really want them back in your life. And how relationships are complicate, and you have to work on them everyday." He was referring to one of our previous conversations, when he asked about my family, and I diverted the topic. "I thought about my own family."

   "That would be quite hypocritical of me if I got you to do that..." I said. Referring to my own family, and how messed up we were.

   "I guess you know this, after all, but I also left my house pretty young. I didn't have a very good relationship with my parents but after my father died, everything with my mother was much worse." He confessed.

   I did know this. I felt bad knowing it before he had even tell me. I couldn't tell anymore whether he was mad or not.

   "I visited my mother again two days ago, after many years. Six years." He was approaching his point. "It took a lot of fighting before we even got to the apologizing. We also talked a lot." He paused for a second. "I don't even know why I'm telling you, why I searched for you, when I'm so mad. Maybe I wanted to tell you I'm mad."

   "The thing that I made up with my mother yesterday. I'm glad I did so. And I was thinking that even if it wasn't something you did consciously, I wanted to thank you for it because it was because of you that I did it."

   I could tell he wasn't done yet.

   He continued, "That's when she mentioned that her friend's daughter had run away. Our neighbor. And I remembered you. I felt so bad for not remembering. She told me your name was Elizabeth Stuart but I still was convinced it was you. You just confirmed it."

   My heart hurt. "Did you tell your mother where I am?"

   He shook his head. "I'm not an idiot. Well, maybe I am. But I didn't think you wanted them to know."

   I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thanks." I doubted. "Do you... do you remember seeing me? Through the window? When your father died."

   He nodded. "Yes, that's why I felt bad for not remembering you when I saw you here. I always wanted to find that little girl that seemed so upset."

   "That's what you thought when you saw me?" I knew all this, I knew I was a kid and that he didn't know me then nor now. I knew concern would only ever be the best I would get, of even.

   "I saw you so sad. I had never talked to you, nor see you ever since you were a baby but the look in your eyes, it broke my heart. You seemed to want to leave so much. I felt like I could empathize so much with you." He responded. Well, empathy is much better than pity. "I guess it had another meaning for you?"

   He knew it. At least he supposed. I don't know if his mother told him something or he figured it himself seeing me here.

   "What?" I was dumbfounded.

   "Elizabeth. Did you follow me here?" His anger was showing now that he had explained me how he knew it.

   "What are you talking about?"

   "Did you or did you not follow me here to New York?" He asked.

   "No!"

   "I never know what's going through your head, you fooled me into thinking that we just met each other at the gallery. This is not okay, Elizabeth." Again with the scowling. He actually thought I followed him like a stalker?

   "I didn't even know you were here to begin with!"

   "What did that look through you window mean to you? What kind of dreams did you make up basing on it? This is real life. We were practically strangers back then."

   I just wanted to cry. I knew my crush was stupid, I knew it. But you don't get to choose crushes, it just happens and dreams develop. Tears started to form in my eyes.

   "Don't you dare cry." He told me. "Explain this to me because it doesn't make sense. And act like an adult, for gods sake. You wanted to be one, then act like one."

   "I don't know, okay!" I exploded. I finally did. "I swear I didn't follow you here. I didn't even know it was your contest when I first heard of it. I never planned on meeting you. I can't deny though that I wanted you to hear of me, even if you didn't know who I was, perhaps that's why I submitted my photo, so you could see it and even if you didn't realize it, see a part of my soul." I gulped. Shacking. Trying not to cry.

   "I never thought I would win. I never meant to see you at the gallery. You talked to me there! Then you found my at school and I told you my real name. I guess I couldn't stop liking you, I swear I tried to get rid of all those stupid kid dreams. But maybe you are right and I can't help but be a kid, I've just experienced a few months of adulthood."

   "I'm not a character, Elizabeth. I'm a real person."

   "I know, Parker!"

   "You can't expect me to be okay with this." He placed both hands in his hair. Tugging at the roots.

   I didn't even notice the car wasn't moving. It seemed like we have arrived long ago but we were too focused fighting to know.

   The door to my house seemed so close, the perfect scape. There I could cry all I wanted. Like the coward I am.

   "I'm so sorry." Was the last thing I told him. Before he could answer, I opened the car door and run to my apartment. He didn't follow.