Page 107 of Strings
He slowly steps over to me as I try to fit broken ends together. My hands are shaking and I can barely fit the pieces together. He crouches down next to me and pushes a piece of hair away from my face. “I’m sorry. Tell me about them.”
I sniffle. “My whole life, I’ve never had pictures to use for memories. Instead, when something important happened to me, I’d take a pen to remember. These were my best times. There aren’t many of them, but they were important. They were all I had.”
Sebastian sits next to me on the floor. “They can’t all be broken, can they? Who would do something like this?”
I shake my head. “Someone who saw I had nothing and wanted to take what little I had left.”
He searches through the pens and tries to help me match them. He places two brown pieces of a Bic pen together. “What was this one?”
I smile and sniff. “I used my body for a lot of things, but I never sold it for cash. I know it sounds like I did, but I didn’t. It’s a dumb distinction, and it probably doesn’t make any sense, but it was an important detail for me.
“Anyway, after I got accused of prostitution for standing on the wrong corner at the wrong time, I got placed in foster care. The fifth night, the guy tried to touch me, so I ran away. I had nowhere to go. I walked the streets for a day and a half. I didn’t want to go home. I hated it there. I was starving, so I started digging through the trash behind a club. The owner was this old, crotchety guy named Frank. He always had a cigar hanging from his mouth when he talked.”
I grin and Sebastian smiles back at me. He’s really listening to me. It’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone this story, and it’s actually nice to share it.
“Anyway, he was pissed I was digging through the trash. I was about to run off when he asked me when I’d last eaten. I shrugged, which I’m sure you know by now is my favorite response. He fed me that night and let me crash on the floor in his office. The next morning, he asked me if I was good at washing dishes. I nodded and he put me to work. He had this brown pen on his desk and I took it.”
Sebastian stares at the pen.
“Frank let me stay. He never asked me any questions, and I never volunteered anything about myself. At first, he paid me in meals to do little things around the place. Over the years, I washed dishes, waited tables, tended bar, and eventually started booking gigs for the place. They were some of the best years of my life even though I was constantly looking over my shoulder and hiding from the police. Frank saved me and he never ever asked me why he had to. All he wanted was for me to earn my place. When I found out my parents had a bounty on their heads for a drug debt, I turned them in. I figured they were safer in jail than on the streets. Then I ran before they came after me, or worse yet, Frank. I never said thank you or even goodbye.”
I shake my head and toss the pieces. Everything is gone.
Sebastian picks up a half a piece of a red pen from the Round Theater. “And this one?”
Lowering my head, I say, “That was from the day I started working, and when I saw you again. You were important. Just so you know.”
“Were?”
I push up from the floor and sit on a corner of the mattress on the floor. “Please don’t. Everything is different now and we both know it.”
Sebastian stands and moves toward the window. “Do you think the same people who were after your parents came after you?”
“It’s why I need to leave.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I only came back here for a few things. Actually, I should go before they come looking for me again.”
“You’re going to runagain? Is that all you know how to do? Do you always run from your problems? How has that been working for you, huh? So what? You go off to the next city and create another fake life? Maybe find yourself a different guy?”
“Fuck you. I never knew I’d meet someone like you. You weren’t supposed to happen.”
He paces as he talks. “So I was an accident? I bet you’re sorry about me, aren’t you? You’re not sorry about anything else, but the one thing you actually regret is ever getting involved with me.”
“You’re right. I sometimes wish I’d never sat next to you on the airplane that day.”
He winces and I realize how much my words can hurt. They’re a sword I never meant to wield. “I didn’t mean that. I meant that I regret pulling you into this. You are—”
“What about the Gala tomorrow?” he interrupts. “People are depending on you. If I hadn’t shown up here tonight, were you going to leave and never talk to me again? Would you ever have told me anything?”
I don’t want to hurt him. I care about him so much, but I also don’t want to lie anymore. I was going to leave without a word, so I try to be honest without causing more pain. “I don’t know. I figured it was best for all of us if I disappeared.”
Sebastian purses his lips and shakes his head. “Unfucking real. Was this all a game to you? Do I mean nothing at all? Jesus, Talia. If you would have trusted me enough to tell me, I would have tried to understand. But finding out this way… from Derrick?” He pauses and I see the pain return to his eyes. “Is it true?”
I avoid the question because I know what he wants to know most of all, and I don’t want to talk about him.
“Please, Sebastian. Don’t do this. I know I’m not who you want me to be. I’ve known for a long time that I’m not good enough for you. But if you’re waiting for me to fall to my knees and say I’m sorry, you’re going to be waiting a long time. I’m not going to apologize for any decisions I made before I met you.”
