Before You Go

chapter twenty

Leon

July 17th, 2009, Whistler, BC

Liz and I are talking on MSN messenger. Things aren't going very well in her house right now. While Liz has been able to stay in her original home, her parents are the ones who have been switching back and forth every Sunday for the past five months. While one is with Liz, the other stays in a condo near the Village. They thought it would be the best option for Liz, but it's been terrible. Every time the switch happens, their emotions get the best of them and they end up arguing over stupid shit. Stupid shit that usually involves a lot of profanity and yelling. Liz always tries to tell me that it doesn't bother her, but I know it does.

Do you think you could come over? She messages me. I need you.

I lean back in my chair. I know we're only fifteen, but when she says she needs me, something happens to my body. It begins to tingle, to make me want her in ways I never thought I could. I'm grossed out by the thought of it, but Eliza Sangster is the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. And I've had a crush on her for years now. I want us to be more than friends. I'm too scared to tell her, though. I'm scared she doesn't like me the way I like her.

Anxiety aside, I still respond to her: I'm on my way. I'll climb up the oak tree outside your window. Listen for three knocks.

She sends me a smiley face to let me know she's gotten the message and is waiting for me. Sighing, I shut down my computer and quickly pull on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I also grab my flip-phone and an extra sweater. No matter how many blankets Liz has piled atop her, she's always cold.

When I get downstairs, I tell my parents that I'm heading over to Liz's house.

"How long?" Dad asks.

"A couple of hours, give or take," I shrug. "Her parents are fighting again. If I end up staying longer, I'll call you guys, okay?"

Mom gives me a hug and kisses me on the forehead. I have to lean down for her to do it, but I don't mind. I'm a momma's boy. Sue me. "Take care of that sweet little angel," Mom whispers. "I'd hate to see her fall off the tracks."

I nod, completely agreeing with her. I've heard tons of stories about kids that experience a divorce – they resort to terrible things like drugs or alcohol to cope. As long as I'm alive, I'll make sure Liz doesn't do that. She's too amazing to succumb to the pain. Too strong and stubborn. But sometimes she needs to be reminded about that.

"I'll text you and let you know when I get there."

"Bye, sweetheart," Mom says.

The walk is less than five minutes. In that amount of time, I manage to walk up the road and scale their fence so I'm in their backyard, standing at the base of a large oak tree. It's located just below Liz's window and I've scaled it many, many times, but I'm a little concerned about the branches being damp. It rained earlier today and things are looking a little slippery. But I know I need to get to Liz.

After I've tied the extra sweater around my waist, I hoist myself up onto the lower branch and begin my ascent. I have to climb up a couple of branches to get to the thickest one, which is also the one that allows me to access the roof, but I manage to do it without slipping – thankfully. In front of me, from behind the green leaves, I can see Liz. She's sitting on her window seat, wrapped in a peach-coloured blanket. Even from here, I can tell she's been crying.

Carefully, I make my way across the branch and then the roof, knocking on her window when I'm right outside of it. She jumps, but the scared look on her face dissipates quickly and turns into a smile when she makes eye contact with me. Without any hesitation, she opens the window.

"Leon," she breathes. "You came."

"I told you I would," I smile.

She glances over my shoulder as if she's looking for someone. "Do your parents know you're here?"

"Of course they do," I reply. "I told them I'd be back in a couple of hours. I wish I could stay all night, but I can't." My dad's been very adamant about m sticking to curfew lately and I'm not really sure why.

"That's okay. I think the worst of the yelling-match is over now. I just want you to stay until Mom leaves."

I give her a thumbs-up as she makes room for me to climb through the window. I do it with precision. Lately, her parents, just like mine, have been a lot stricter when we hang out together. I know they like me, but they never allow me to stay past eight and if Liz and I go out, it can only be during daylight hours or if we're with a large group. I don't know why they're doing it, but I don't care – it's not going to prevent me from seeing Liz.

When I'm standing on the hardwood floor of her bedroom, I kick off my shoes and stow them away under the bed. I don't doubt that one of her parents will come up and check on Liz at some point. Which is why I'm keeping my ears open for the sound of muffled footsteps in the background. I need to be ready just in case.

"How are you holding up?" I ask, joining Liz on the window seat.

She shrugs, coddling herself with the blanket. It's pulled up to her chin, yet she's still shivering. I begin to untie the sweater from around my waist. "Hey. I brought something for you."

Liz looks down to where my hands are working on the knot around my waist. Her eyes light up with excitement. "My favourite sweater!"

Once the knot is undone, I hand it to her. Forgetting about the blanket, Liz stands up and pulls the sweater over her head. It messes up the knotted but atop her head, but she doesn't seem to care as she hugs herself, a big smile on her face. I don't fail to notice the way she takes the excess fabric and brings it to her nose, taking a deep breath.

"I love the laundry detergent your mom uses," she sighs. "It smells like home."

I scratch the back of my neck, not sure how to respond to that. It kind of flatters me that she loves the smell of my sweater, but it's kind of weird at the same time.

"So, uh, how long have they been fighting this time?" I ask.

Liz shrugs and sits down beside me. She pulls the blanket over both of our laps and begins to pick at the fraying edges. "A while. Maybe an hour ago? I lose track of time whenever they fight. I don't understand why they have to fight like they do. They're already divorced. I thought after they didn't have to deal with each other every day, that they would start loving me again and realize just how badly everything affects me." She flops back against the windowsill and tilts her face the ceiling. "Apparently not. I wish I could move in with you guys."

"I'm sure they do love you, Liz," I say, leaning back so we're evenly matched.

Liz shakes her head. "I don't think they do – they always fight, Leon. Even when I go downstairs to beg and plead them to stop."

Again, I don't know how to respond to that. My parents are still happily married and love each other. My house is whole. I can't relate to Liz enough to help her the way I want to.

"Well," I say, taking her hand. Her skin is warm and soft. "I don't entirely understand what you're going through, but I'm here for you if you need me."

Liz leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes. Her breath is hot against the cool skin of my neck, causing shivers to go down my spine. "Thanks, Leon. I don't know what I'd do without you."