Burnouts

Thanks for Nothing

Scene 1: Fifth Avenue

Jace Kendal

"Hey," Heather knocks on my halfway-opened room door, "Leona asked for you."

I nod, "okay, I'll be down in a minute."

"I'll let her know," she nods back and turns to leave.

"Heather..." Her head peeks around the side of the door but she doesn't say anything. "Do you remember this?" I hold up a picture of us together in France.

"Of course," she smiles and comes to take it out of my hands, "this was our first summer together."

"Yeah," I smile with her, "Paris always smelled like coffee to me..."

"I like it," she shrugs.

"I know," I look over at her. "Are you sure you don't want any of this? All of these photos...we're not together but-"

Heather seemed to let the idea roll over in her head a bit, but soon enough, she was sifting through the box.

I don't think she even looked at the stuff when she was throwing it in there. Anything that reminded her of me simply got tossed out.

"Oh," Heather said happily, "look it still has color," she showed me the pressed flower between the pages of a book.

"What is that?" I furrow my eyebrows in unfamiliarity.

"...Pablo Neruda, Twenty love poems and a song of despair. I gave you it for our one year anniversary and pressed the flower to save the page of my favorite one. You must've left it in my room."

"Right, right. I remember..." I start to laugh, "I never did read it, you know? I meant to but— a book, really Heather?" I continue, "it was a nice gesture, but I hate reading."

"Yeah..." her voice trails off, "I know...I just thought you might like it since it was about love...pages and pages of how much I loved you."

"But still...pages and pages," I raise an eyebrow at her, "you should definitely keep it. It's so...you."

"I will," Heather agrees. "See you downstairs then."

"Mhm," I watch her head off.

It feels weird. It's been so long since she's been in my room or in my house for that matter. Now she's here as a friend...a friend I used to kiss.

I pick up the box of stuff and put it on the floor near my dresser. I'll have it tossed out tomorrow, I guess. If she doesn't want it...why should I?

"Mom!" I shout as I start down the stairs. She doesn't respond and when I reach the bottom, I see a bunch of people randomly scattered around my house. God, I never liked thanksgiving. "Hello, everyone," I greeted politely before maneuvering past them to where I find my mother in the kitchen frosting a cake.

"Took you long enough, Jace," she sighs, "dinner is just about ready, go start the toasts while the table gets set."

"Why me? Why not dad? I hate making speeches."

"Your father is busy. Do as I say."

I should've stayed in my room.

I grab a glass of champagne off of a server's tray, downing it quickly before grabbing another. I plaster on another fake smile as I join the guests. They watch me eagerly as I stand in the middle and clink a spoon against the glass to gather their attention. "Happy Thanksgiving, friends and family, it's a pleasure to have you all here to celebrate with us," and a pleasure it will be when you all leave, "I think I speak for everyone when I say that I have a lot to be thankful for..." I chuckle and prompt others to laugh as well. "Um- for example, I'm thankful for my wonderful parents...and that lovely meal being prepared...and uh-" I look around for something more meaningful to say I'm grateful for. Bringing up the Kendal's net worth just seems inappropriate...