I reached into the box and pushed aside the tons of movie tickets, layer by layer. Beneath them lay the stuffed bear he’d won me at the carnival. He’d wanted to win me the biggest prize they had, but after thirty bucks I walked away with a bear the size of an eclair. And not a normal eclair either—one of those mini ones that wouldn’t satisfy the smallest of sweets cravings. It slept next to me on my pillow every night till I stuffed it away in the box.
A bobber from the day we went fishing and didn’t catch a single one, even though the guy next to us caught fifteen. Zach insisted the man had superpowers. I told him he played too many video games.
Notes we passed back and forth between classes. I unfolded one. An entire piece of paper. And all it said:
I love you.
I used to write page-long notes, going on about class and whatever else I could think of. Sometimes he would write back in response, but other times he just wrote those three words. I’m sure there were twenty other folded pieces of paper in the box with the exact same three words scribbled in the middle.
And there at the bottom, the thing I knew I subconsciously looked for. I took the plastic bubble in my hand and popped off the top. Inside, it held what to anyone else would be a cheap keychain. To me, it was a declaration of love and promises.I rolled it between my fingers, the bright green gem of the frog’s eye shining up at me. It was like a mirror to our past, reflecting back the memories.
I’d spent the previous day baking. Zach sat with me. He didn’t utter a single word, just let me bake. He sampled every cookie I made. Even when he looked like he’d puke, he kept eating. He’d offer a nod of approval after each new batch, and every now and then squeeze my hand or kiss my head. But he never once said anything.
Words couldn’t bring my grandfather back, and he knew I didn’t want reassuring statements. Because they were meaningless.
My grandfather was my favorite person in the world. Happy and loving. Sweeter than the cannoli cream-filled cakes he loved so much. And one day he was there, laughing and alive, and then the next day he was gone.
Hours later, I finally dropped the measuring spoons. I heard the water turn on as soon as my foot hit the stairs on my way up to my room. I crawled into bed exhausted from crying, and as the tears started again, I fell into a deep sleep.
The way the sun shone through my window when I woke up, I could tell it was midday. I pressed my eyes closed and more tears slid down my cheeks.
I lied in my bed curled up in a ball. The tears soaked my pillow, and my nose was so clogged I could barely breathe. I didn’t care. My grandfather was dead. The man who would sit me on his lap and tell me stories, would never speak again. I’d never again feel his stubble on my cheek when I hugged him.
The tears filled my eyes, the pain consumed me. My parents tried to get me to leave my room, but there was no point. The only place I wanted to be was in bed.
Suddenly, my bed dipped down and warm arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I turned, burying my head into Zach’s spice-cookie-scented chest. He kissed my forehead then brushed the damp hair off my face, making the pain a little more bearable.
“Why don’t you get dressed and come out with me?”
I shook my head and drew myself closer to him. I didn’t want to go anywhere. I didn’t want to see anyone. Except him. He was the only person I could face. The only person who wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to.
His hand rested under my chin and gently raised it until my eyes met his. “Please?” he asked, pouting his lip in that puppy-dog way.
I didn’t need a mirror to know I had mascara streaked down my cheeks and red puffy eyes. “I look awful.”
He tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. “We could put a bag over your head.”
And for the first time since the news shattered me into peanut brittle, a laugh slipped out.
His finger rested at the corner of my lip. “I missed your laugh.” His thumbs wiped the tears from my cheeks and he kissed my forehead. “Your grandfather wouldn’t want this.”
He was right. He always was.
“Come on. It’ll be good to get out.”
I nodded and he kissed my nose before I dragged myself from the comfort of his arms and to the bathroom to make myself look somewhat acceptable for public viewing.
“Babe, you almost ready?” Joe’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“In a minute,” I yelled through the door.
I put the key chain back in its bubble and dropped it in the box, trapping it and all the memories with it. I slid it under my bed and walked over to my dresser. Just like that day after my grandfather’s death, mascara was smeared across my cheeks. I rubbed my hands across, wiping it away.
I swiped some blush across my cheeks and smeared on my candy-apple lip gloss. The television echoed on the other side of the door and I could bet money Joe had fallen asleep.
Zach never fell asleep when waiting for me. And even though I was desperate to keep the memories locked away in my box, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering back.
I emerged from the bathroom fresh-faced. Zach leaned against my headboard, legs crossed, hands behind his head. His eyes shot up, and he smiled.
“Much better. Though you always look beautiful.”
Only he could make me actually believe that line of bullshit.
“Where are we going?”
He stood and engulfed me in a classic Zach hug. “It’s a surprise.” He kissed my nose and took my hand, leading me back to civilization.
Two weeks earlier he had gotten his license, and he had his mom’s car waiting for us. He ran in front of me and opened the passenger door. I laughed at his chivalry, and he tickled my sides.
After two days of being lost in the dark, it was nice to find the light again. My grandfather was gone and it sucked. And in the beginning I didn’t want to laugh. I didn’t want to smile. But just as Zach reminded me, my grandfather wouldn’t want that.
In the car Zach linked his fingers with mine and pulled the back of my hand to his lips.
I pointed to the steering wheel with my other hand. “Ten and two. Did you not learn anything in Driver’s Ed?” I said with a smile.
Amusement flashed in his dark eyes. “I thought it was eleven and one.”
“Did you charm the driving instructor to get your license?”
“Jealous?”
“Never.” I smiled and for a brief second he took his eyes off the road to connect with mine. He kissed my hand again and pulled into the parking lot of the local supermarket.
“This is your idea of getting out of the house?” I asked.
“We’re just stopping for the necessities. Chocolate, soda and chips. And when I cleaned up last night I noticed you were out of brown sugar, so we should add that to the list.”
He got out of the car and I met him at the front and threw my arms around him. “What’s this for?” he asked, breath warm against my cheek.
“For remembering the brown sugar.” I’d be a crazed lunatic if I couldn’t sleep and had no brown sugar to make cookies. And he knew that. He knew I threw myself into baking until I was able to deal with how I felt. “But mainly for just being you.”
He took my hand and spun me, pulling me back into his chest. He kissed my nose and then bent. “Hop on.”
