I Love You To Death

Chapter Ten

Vivienne

Two days before travel.

  The past week passed by as fast as a commercial break— agonizingly slow. It was a week full of dense homework (something about compensating for all the week's homework we were about to miss), walking home with Dan knee-deep in conversation about all kinds of things ranging from books to food to tv shows to sports and even make up. Conversation with him never hit a dead end, it was ever flowing like a river —running aimlessly and finding itself pleased along the journey, regardless. The more he spoke the more I started to notice his quirks; when he thinks hard he has this habit of scratching under his chin but when he's excited he'd scratch his head and look down, and he had a hand gesture for everything, which only made me notice his long, masculine fingers and how much I longed for them to be on me.

  "Are you excited?" Dan asks me, although he tries hard to seem excited I can tell he's off today.

  "Are you kidding? I can't even explain how much! I've always wanted to visit Italy and just to think that after tomorrow I'll finally be there!" I say as we walk back home from school.

  "Why didn't you ever go before?"

  "I...I don't know, I mean I know if I asked my dad he wouldn't mind but it just never occurred to me, you know?"

  He shook his head for "No I don't".

  "Well, I guess because I love it so much it always seemed like a lucid dream, like something untouchable, so much so that travelling there never even crossed my mind."

  He nods with squinted eyes against the blinding sunlight as he looks at me. God I love it when he wears outfits like these: plain white V-neck t-shirt tight at the biceps, washed out jeans, combat boots and scruffy hair. I could melt into a puddle of "oh la la" every time I look at him.

  "I think I know what you mean. Do you mind if I ask you something a little personal?" his pupil constricts and his eyebrows gather in concentration, his hand moves to his chin to itch.

  "Yeah, I mean no, sure go ahead." I thoroughly botched up my sentence. Smooth.

  "You and Jenny...you guys got pretty close, didn't you?"

  "Well, yeah of course, she's basically all I have here and all I need really." I wonder where this is going. "But I have a feeling that's not what you wanted to ask me."

  He's more serious than he ever was, so lost in thought that it takes him a while to gather his words.

  "Have you ever...I mean have you and Jenny ever spoke about the...past? Her past? Mine?"

  Jenny's and Dan's past? The only thing they have in common that I'm aware of is Leighton. And then it hits me, that's probably why he's so disoriented, because he's trying to tell me about Leighton.

  "About Leighton?" I say it bluntly and he flinches. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

  "No. It's okay. So you know?"  He folds his arms and stares at the ground, it's painful to watch him so...stained, singled out against the people on the sidewalk. Every one of us is branded; some sigils are more prominent and despised than others, like the death of a loved one. That's one of the worst out there, and he bore it on his chest, in his eyes, in his touch every single day, but only if you looked hard enough, close enough, like the yellow cigarette stains on his teeth, or the way he flinches at the mention of death. You could tell he was changed from that one tragedy, and maybe that's all we are— a collection of tragedies.

  "All I know is what Jenny told me everyone else knows. She passed away... suicide but that's all. I'm so sorry by the way. I can't imagine how hard it must have been."