Date: Sat, 4 Dec 2004 19:55:22 -0500 (EST) From: Sean Roberts Subject: The Necklace The Necklace By: Sean Roberts Author's Note: All feedback is appreciated, please send to seanr_13@yahoo.ca Amy sits in the library, her eyes red and sore. The library is open all night but she does not know if she can stay for much longer. A multitude of books lie in front of her, some of them opened, most of them stacked. One or two have fallen, and she has noticed and ignored them. She has been looking at books for six hours with no break. Her friend, Melissa, paces behind her, balancing a book in one hand and un-doing her hair with the other. Her hair falls on top of Amy's head and she stops walking. Amy brushes the intrusive hair away, wondering why the hair has not swept by with her friend. For the past half hour the soft rhythm of Melissa's shoes on the floor has become part of the quiet, dusty atmosphere of the library. Amy looks up, realizing that Melissa has stopped walking. Melissa places the book gently on top of the one Amy is reading. Amy barely acknowledges the gesture and begins to read the new page without an inquiry. She is too tired to smile after the words travel through her eyes and into her mind. She rests her right elbow on the table, her palm flat in the air. Melissa takes hold of it; Amy curls her fingers around Melissa's hand. Congratulations. Without speaking, the girls check out the book and walk to Amy's car, closing their coats against the December wind. The following day neither of them goes to school. They sleep most of the day, and at night celebrate by watching a movie. They sit beside each other in the theatre, not touching but not alone. The actress breaks down when she finds out her husband has been cheating. Melissa's right hand moves from her left to her right leg; Amy rests her forearm on the arm rest beside her. Their shoulders touch. They feel the pain together. * They sit beside each other during Monday's math lesson. They are happy that they have finally completed the research for the book. At seventeen they are both aspiring writers and historians. They have been searching for a book about East Africa with the information they need. It was in a Kenyan school that the girls met. Together they grew from girls into teenagers. When they were thirteen Amy had suddenly become fascinated with Melissa's long, black hair. She was feeling it once, and when she let it go, Melissa leaned forward and kissed her friend. At the time neither of them understood what it meant, but later that day, when Amy was bathing, she became more aware of the black spots that were beginning to cover her previously un-interrupted flow of white skin. Job opportunities in Canada sent both of the girls' families over-seas when they were fifteen. And now, at seventeen, their English accents accentuate boys' attractions to their bodies. Between the two of them Amy is better at math. She raises her hand in answer to a question. "X squared plus two". She hears a snigger from behind her. Amy ignores the sound of Benjamin Walker's voice. Recently he has been voicing the opinion that Amy cannot do math because she is a girl. When class is over, she swings her knapsack around, almost hitting him in the face before she leaves the room. Melissa follows her out of the school. Amy knows that she is behind her, but she ignores her, hoping she will go away. "You know better than to let him get to you," Melissa says. Amy does not turn around. She tries to stop the tears, and is only able to do so when Melissa touches her arm. "H-he doesn't get to me," Amy says. "He doesn't mean any of that stuff. He just says it because--he knows Melissa." Melissa stops touching Amy's arm. She searches for words that will not upset Amy more. "When did you tell him?" "A few weeks ago. I couldn't help it. He was so sweet. He seemed interested in my life. Most guys laugh when I tell them I want to write, he didn't. I never told you about him because--Melissa I can't do this here. Do you want to forget about the rest of the day?" Melissa nods and they climb into Amy's car. They drive in silence until they reach Amy's empty house. Her older brother is in school; her parents at work. There are no pets. The sounds in the house come from the girls' walking and breathing, until they settle on Amy's bed. Her lilac room is soft, inviting. She has closed the blinds; the room is dark but they can see each other. "I was attracted to him. Just a bit. And it was weird because, well, we became friends, and then when he asked me out, I couldn't say no. But of course I couldn't say yes either, so I had to tell him the truth." "And what did he say?" "Nothing. He said he understood, and that he wanted to be friends. And then he started acting like the dick we've come to know him as." "Maybe he's just surprised. I mean, maybe he'll snap out of it." "I hope so. Let's write. Since we aren't going to school, we can start the outline." They use the computer only when necessary. With pens and paper they jot down notes as they talk. Slowly the feelings that Benjamin had brought up in her fade as her concentration turns towards their book. When Melissa finally sees her smile, they kiss. The girls move the paper aside and Amy feels Melissa's hand slipping beneath her skirt. She closes her eyes as Melissa enters her. As her pleasure increases, however, she begins to think about the time she had something larger inside of her. * Benjamin finds her in the school library during lunch. "Hey Amy," he mumbles. She is studying; he is searching for a book on a nearby shelf. "Fuck off." He finds the book he wants and slams it down in front of her. "You haven't even apologized," he says angrily. He has difficulty keeping his voice lowered. He does not sit down and she looks up to see him glaring at her, his hands resting on either side of the book on the table. This is the first time she has seen his light brown eyes looking fierce and his spiky black hair threatening. "Fine. I'm sorry. Now fuck off." "No," he replies. He sits down. "I need to read." "I'll go then," she says softly. She reaches her arm forwards to take hold of her blue knapsack. She grasps the handle and he grabs her arm. He has a firm grip but he does not hurt her. After a quick look around he lifts her arm and kisses the accommodating dent in the bone just behind her wrist. "I love you," he says. "No you don't." She pulls away her arm. "We've known each other for a month. You can't feel--and even if you do, I don't love you back. It takes two people." She begins to put away her things quickly. "Wait," he says. "Forget it. I'll go. I wasn't planning to stay anyway, I have to get home. But I have something for you." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a thin pile of stapled paper. He throws it onto the desk and walks around the table to leave. His hand brushes her blonde hair as he walks away. She hears the front of his shoe dig into the carpet, almost causing him to trip. She turns to see if he is alright. He has not fallen, but his usual, confident stride has disappeared. She experimented with some poetry and wanted him to see it. She flips through the pages and sees small notes in the margins. She reads what he has written. The thoughts are very focused: he has analyzed the poems and not her. But she re-reads the line that says "this one really spoke to me" six times before the pages end up in her knapsack. She tells Melissa that she is not feeling well and that they will not be seeing each other that night. Instead Amy sits alone in her room. Her right hand grasps her left wrist as she stares at the purple flower on her bed spread. She tries but can not let go of her wrist. The place his lips have touched is burning her. They were drunk at a party and Benjamin offered to drive them both home. He left Melissa at her door, but took Amy to a hotel. It was already booked; a bottle of wine was waiting. She drank while he undressed her. Neither of them needed to say anything. Amy knew all evening what was going to happen; she knew why she had drunk enough to make sure that Benjamin could offer to drive her home. She did not take off his clothes but watched him do it himself. She ran her fingers along his body, stopping at the black hair on his stomach. She is curious about the feeling of un-shaven skin. He went inside farther and harder than Melissa ever could have. It hurt but she took pleasure in the taste of his sweat when she kissed his neck; and in the relieved look on his face when she smiled at him after he asked her if she was alright. The next morning when she was hung over, he made sure she got home safely. When she saw him next, she broke his heart. The dream she has about this night returns frequently. She fell asleep fifteen minutes ago and she wakes up sweating, thinking about Benjamin. She changes into her pajamas and goes downstairs for a snack. Her parents were just about to call her for dinner so she eats quietly with them. Halfway through the meal she hears her cellular phone ringing from her bed room. Her father asks about it and she tells him that she will call back later. Amy avoids Melissa at least one day per week. When they are together again they write. "How's this sentence?" Melissa asks. She hands Amy a piece of paper. Long, thin letters spell out words that Amy does not want to read. She can hear voices when she reads. She hears Benjamin's voice when she sees his small, sharp writing against the clean, white margins of her poems. Melissa's writing is not messy but it is complicated. There are many loops and flowing lines that intricately intertwine words and letters. "It's good," Amy answers, handing it back. "What's the matter?" Amy smiles. She leans forward and places her hand against Melissa's breast. "Nothing. I just missed you yesterday." "I know." The girls kiss and with their fingers they bring each other to orgasm. A drop of come makes its way onto Melissa's writing. "That's gross!" Melissa says, wiping it off with a tissue. Amy laughs. They take turns in the bathroom and Amy is able to concentrate better when they return to their work. The first time they did this for each other was after seeing each other in Toronto. They were separated for two months. Melissa had come first, leaving Amy alone in Kenya for a month. They ran up to Melissa's bedroom to catch up on each other's lives in private. They were giggling and sitting close by. Melissa's hair seemed longer than before and Amy played with it until Melissa squeezed the flesh of Amy's thigh. She apologized but Amy responded by removing her shirt, exposing her still forming breasts. Melissa touched them. When Melissa removed her own shirt Amy could see that hers were bigger. At fifteen they were still girls. There was little hair and their legs were still sticks, only beginning to grow larger and softer. They knew what they were doing because they had practiced on themselves. Amy stared, fascinated at the amount of seamen Melissa produced. She had never paid the same amount of attention to herself. When they finished Amy handed Melissa a silver necklace she brought her from Africa. "So you can keep the warm country with you. It's bloody cold over here." "So that I can keep you with me," Melissa responded. She kisses Melissa softly before she leaves her house. In her car Amy dials a phone number. Half an hour later she is standing outside in the cold. They are in the school parking lot, deserted at this time. Benjamin stands beside her. He is smoking and she is rubbing her hands together. They have not greeted each other. They simply stare into the distance, Benjamin waiting for her to tell him why she has brought him here. "I'm sorry," she says after the long silence. He blows out smoke and analyzes her tone. It doesn't help as much as he thought it would, but it is something. He has an acknowledgement of his pain. "So you really love her then?" "She's amazing." He nods. "Listen Ben you have to lay off. I can't deal with the sniggering, and the women jokes and all that anymore. Whether you believe it or not it hurts." She knows she is once again exposing herself to him, but she knows that he deserves it. "Okay." He throws the butt of the cigarette into the snow. "I'm glad you liked my poems," she says. "Goodbye Amy." He turns and walks to his car. Amy cannot bring herself to watch him. She remains where she is until she hears him drive off. When he is gone, the only sound she can hear is her breathing against the whistling wind. She goes to Melissa's place. "What are you doing here?" "I needed to tell you that I loved you," Amy says softly. "Oh. Well I love you too." Melissa smiles, but it is false. Amy's eyes have not met hers, and she knows that something is wrong. Melissa invites her inside, and they go upstairs to Melissa's room where they will not be overheard. "Don't tell me you want to do it again," Melissa says, sounding amused. Amy stares out of Melissa's window. The street lamps cast an orange glow over the street. A lone car drives quickly by, and Amy tells her about Benjamin. When she is finished she can not bear to turn around. Multi-coloured Christmas lights across the street consume Amy's eyes. But her thoughts are with Melissa. Amy cannot comprehend the emotions she knows her lover must be feeling. Melissa remains silent and Amy's breathing increases slightly. She pictures Melissa sitting on her bed, listening to every word, now at a loss for what to say. Amy turns around. Melissa's face is sullen, hidden by the black hair that she let down. "Umm, I guess I should go?" She does not say sorry because it is those words that she ended her story with. "Yes you should." Amy takes a deep breath before leaving the room. She is stopped by Melissa when she reaches the stairs. "You forgot this." She drops the necklace in Amy's hand. "I'm sorry Melissa," Amy says again, looking into her friend's eyes. She glances downwards and can not stand to see Melissa's bare neck. "I know you are. But that doesn't change anything." Melissa turns to walk back to her room. At home Amy sits on her bed. In front of her is a pile of notes for their book, on top of which is Melissa's necklace. She stares at this collection in front of her for a few minutes. She then picks them up and throws them over to her garbage can. She does not need to look over to see that they have landed with precision inside the bin. The innocence of these two Kenyan girls has been lost. She suddenly longs to be home, where the sight of Melissa brings nothing more to her mind than the thought of a good friend; a time when she could regard boys as obnoxious and not attractive. She knows she will never be forgiven. She knows that she has crossed a line separated by more than an ocean. She is suddenly tired and she lies down. She closes her eyes, the necklace glittering in her eyes. And she smiles when she remembers Melissa's face upon receiving the gift. She smiles because she imagines the potential the necklace had for their friendship.