The spoiler, p.4
The Spoiler, page 4
It’ll go away.
“I like to listen to this soundtrack on quiet Sundays,” he whispered, and my head snapped his way. “It’s so calming. Could you imagine being able to play like that? Or... do you play?” My eyes found his while my lips threatened to smile at him too enthusiastically at what was suddenly a welcome break in my oncoming moment.
“Not at all. But it would be amazing. And... this is perfect Sunday music.”
His eyes glistened a bit with the glow from the sunlight on the screen before he turned his head back to watch. And now that I was really looking at him, I could see that he was actually kind of cute. Of all the times I’d had brief interactions with him at the video store, I’d never really focused much on him.
Drew had this soft, sweet Rupert Grint look about him. The slight auburn touch to his hair and scruffy chin made him look like some kind of English gentleman. He pushed his tortoiseshell glasses up and opened a bag of Reese’s Pieces.
“I could easily watch that once a month. Even better to see it on the big screen, though.” Drew slid his hands into his pockets while we left the theatre and walked through the open-air mall.
“It’s definitely my favorite. Although, I am looking forward to the rest of the weekend’s shows,” I said.
“Oh, are you coming back?”
“Yes.” I awkwardly laughed. “I have a ticket for Wuthering Heights tomorrow night and one for the matinee showing of Mansfield Park on Sunday.”
“You really are a period drama fan. So, is it mostly Austen and the Brontës?”
“No. I mean, I love all of the romantic period dramas, but to be honest, I’m big on history, so anything set back in time interests me.” My fingers started to fidget with the strap on my bag and I took a steadying breath before he could notice.
“So if this weekend was more about, say... the Daniel Day-Lewis period pieces, you’d still be here?”
“In this hypothetical marathon, is Gangs of New York playing?”
“Yes, obviously. Bill the Butcher tossing knives at people...” he said.
“Tapping his glass eye with the tip of one. Then, obviously, yes, I would be here.”
“I like that.” For some reason it kind of took me aback how he just said it. He likes that; that I enjoy romance as much as I do violent dramas, so long as it’s a period piece. At least, that’s what I assumed he was saying.
“I was brought up on brutality. I enjoy a good battle scene and all that.”
“Brought up on brutality?!” His eyes gaped at me and I shook my head and laughed when I realized how it sounded.
“Hockey. I’m from a hockey family. Not... not what it sounded like.”
“Ah, the sport of missing teeth and acceptable mullets.” He pursed his lips before smiling at me.
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“I’m not much of a sports guy, I’ll admit. I like a good war story, but there’s something about turning violence into a casual spectator activity that turns me off.”
“More for me, I guess.”
“Of course, I’ve never really watched a hockey game. Not fully,” he admitted.
“Oh, well, you’d probably love it. It’s a thrill. We should... I mean. You should give it a try sometime.” Now I was definitely letting myself fidget with my purse strap. I had almost blurted out a future date plan.
“How would you feel about having some company for Mansfield Park on Sunday?“ He nudged my elbow with his as if to say he was interested in a future date plan with me and I wasn’t being weird.
“Yeah. Yeah, that would be.. nice.”
“Great. Well, I’m over here.” His thumb pointed to the lot behind him, and I nodded. “Meet me Sunday by the fountain at noon?”
“Okay, yeah... Thanks, by the way.”
“For?” he asked.
“For sitting with me,” I answered.
“I’m the one who asked. Thank you for letting me sit with you.“ His blue eyes crinkled a bit at the edges as he pressed his lips together in a smile, then turned for the lot.
“How was it?” Rob peeked up from behind a book on the couch as I shut the door.
“Great. Pride & Prejudice, so you know... it’s top-notch.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen it.”
“What? How have you never seen it?” You’d think he would have, considering how many period dramas he’d given me. But then it occurred to me he could have helped fill that box with recommendations from a female friend or something. After all, I’d never really seen Robby watch anything outside of comic book movies.
“I don’t know. You know me. If hockey’s on, that’s what I’m watching.”
“Sure. So... Tristan left?”
“I think so,” he said.
“It’s our house, Rob. You should know if he’s here or not.” The sudden urge to run into my room and check my DVD hiding spot was strong. Rob could sense my tension, lifting his chin up to study my face.
“Why don’t you just watch movies on cable or something?”
“First, Robert, we do not have cable. Second, Tristan would still manage to listen with his bionic ears and figure out what I was watching. And somehow, he has seen every single movie that’s ever existed, so there’s no escaping it. Until I get my own place, that is.”
“You’re still gonna move out, then.” He said it dejectedly instead of asking.
I took a deep breath and let it back out with a sigh. “Yeah, I am. I literally cannot stand being around him.”
It was then that I looked over at the stairwell to see Tristan descending the last few steps.
“Tell me how you really feel, Rose.” He tugged his hair into a knot behind his head, then leaned back on the banister with his arms folded across his chest. It was the first time I’d seen him look less entertained and more put off by my words.
“Come on, you guys. Why do you do this?” Rob stood now and looked between us. “You’re the most important people in my life, but this stuff has gotten ridiculous. It’s un-fucking-fair.”
“It won’t be a problem soon,” I said beneath my breath. Some part of me felt kind of bad about Tristan overhearing what I’d said.
“Because she’s moving out. Far away. In fact, she even said she’d transfer schools if it came down to it. Did she tell you that, bud?” I let out another shallow sigh as I watched Robby’s brows draw together at Tristan’s words.
“Well, fuck, Rose. You would transfer because of this?“ His head began to shake at me and I watched as his demeanor shifted from annoyed to angry, something very unlike him. “Why don’t you grow up?! This shit with movies is all you care about. You don’t care about me, about being here and having a good future. You’re obsessed with this shit!”
“Hey. Hey, man. You shouldn’t—“ Tristan stepped forward, but Rob turned to face him.
“No, I’m tired of it! She’s got no life outside of this, so when you’re fucking around with her, it’s everything. Well, it shouldn’t be everything. You should be out dating or something, Roslyn. Not... alone.” His last word hit me square in my chest and a breath of shock escaped my mouth.
“I thought I wasn’t alone.” Tears were stinging my eyes as I pushed the words out. “What is it, Rob? You want Routine Rose here with you or you want her to have a fucking life?! Because those things don’t seem to work together and leaving would fix it all.”
Finally, a stupid hiccup pushed the tears out and I bit my lip as they fell down my cheeks. I watched with embarrassment as Rob’s eyes fell and Tristan’s followed the trail of moisture on my face.
The heat from the shower burned the skin on my back in a way that felt like a needed emotional cleanse. My compulsions were usually not so much about germs and ritual cleanliness, but in times of pain, a hot shower seemed to scald the sadness from me. But in this instance, it was only a few minutes that my shower took me away from Rob’s words.
What was I supposed to do, stay and find something else to love? Was he right?
I pulled on pajamas before Rob’s signature double-knock sounded from my door.
“Can I come in?” he asked when I opened it.
“Yeah.”
“Rosey,”—he hadn’t called me that since childhood—“this isn’t about OCD, okay? I don’t want you to think that’s what I meant. I just... I worry about you. I wanted us to live together because you’re one of my best friends and I thought we’d have fun together here. But you spend so much time alone, it’s sometimes like... I don’t get to even see you that much.”
I focused on his eyes that were overly apologetic, then took in a deep breath. “It’s not that you’re wrong. I—I know I spend all my time alone, but... to be honest, I was really surprised that you even asked me to live with you when I got in.”
“What? What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean... I always considered us best friends until—“
“Until Tristan.”
“Yeah.”
“Having him around never meant that you weren’t my best friend, though,” he said. “He doesn’t live here. I didn’t even ask him to when I found the place. You’re so smart, Rose. I knew you’d get in and I wanted us to have fun here together like old times. Us.”
“But it’s easier for you guys to go out and do things without me. Ya know, publicly.”
“It isn’t that bad. People don’t notice like you think they do,” he told me.
“I know you want that to be true, and I appreciate you saying it. But, Rob, people do notice. This scar right here is because people notice.“ I prodded at the groove above my left eye; the hooked white scar that started in the center of my eyebrow and drifted more than an inch up my forehead. I’d gotten used to it, but it was still there. Still there to remind me exactly who I was to people: Routine Rose. That I’d always be the twitchy freak; the girl with the glaring issue who couldn’t ever get a handle on it. Even when I’d tried to take meds, the adverse effects seemed to control my life in ways that made everything feel worse. The only thing I’d figured out was distraction and avoidance.
“Sometimes I try to think of what the future of our lives will look like, and when I do, I see you doing things like everyone else. And OCD is not in charge, even if it’s still there. It’s not who you are because it’s never been who you are, Rose. You are my little, not-so-little sister. You’re strong and brave and you stand up to people like Candice Simon because you don’t let people fuck with you. And that is why you have that scar.”
My throat seemed to well up once more with a newborn knot of tears at his words. It was such a Rob thing to say, though. It was uplifting and beautiful, making me feel like I could be what he was saying. But it was also coming from Rob and he was exactly the kind of person to inflate reality in wondrous ways, to paint a picture only he could see. I wished I could be like Rob, so positive and optimistic. Or that I could be the Rose he saw, someone who didn’t let people fuck with her. But this conversation started out because of Tristan—because I let him get to me every time.
“I hope I can one day be that person.” It was all I could say to him.
“Can we at least start doing some things together? Like, I know you’re set on moving out and maybe that’s a good thing, but what if we, I dunno, went to a party or something?” The look he gave me was unfamiliar. It was like he was nervous to be suggesting it. I didn’t want my own brother to feel nervous trying to ask me if we could hang out together.
“Yeah, Robby. I can try. It’s okay. And just so you know, I did do something different today.”
“You mean going to the movie theatre?” he asked.
“Yeah, but… I met this guy there. Or I knew him already from the video store. He’s meeting me Sunday for the end of the marathon.”
“Really?” His eyes opened wider with a hopeful look.
“Well, don’t act like I’ve never dated.” I had dated; but I’d never gotten too deep in anything for fear of men meeting Routine Rose.
“No, I know you have. It’s just—“
“It’s been a while. But this could be a good thing. Getting out there again. Maybe it’ll be different.”
“I hope so. I’m just glad you’re trying, though.”
The next afternoon, my hand hesitated as I reached for another DVD. Rob wasn’t wrong at all. I was obsessed. It was just another thing I let myself do compulsively, but it was also the only good compulsion I had.
It was the thing that made me happy and kept me focused on the positive. It was also what I had started doing to push aside sadness and to help me heal after a tough day. Period dramas were a big part of my life. But even still, I would start trying for Rob.
With another pause, I set the DVD case back on my shelf. I would watch it another day. Tonight was Wuthering Heights at the theatre and maybe I’d go do something afterwards.
The door creaked open as I reached for a textbook to keep my mind at bay. Tristan leaned against the doorframe, eyeing my shelf.
“This isn’t much of a hiding spot,” he said.
“Back for more abuse, I see.”
“Is that the start of an apology?”
“More of a promise,” I told him.
His chin lifted as he slid Tuck Everlasting over and smiled a broad smile that I hated loving.
“Now this one... Rose, this is a good movie.” I waited for him to elaborate, but he just studied the box, front and back.
“Is that it? That’s the spoiler? You should write movie reviews.”
Tristan’s eye flickered with amusement before his hands smoothed over the box like it was some kind of treasure. Then he set it back on the shelf and came over to my bed.
“You weren’t wrong last night, you know. It isn’t bad to love what you love. But... I will give you a quote from Tuck Everlasting and you can take it however you want.“ He dropped to his knees and looked up at me, his lips slightly open, his eyes seeming to reach for mine; for some kind of connection, so I’d really hear him.
“Don’t be afraid of death; be afraid of an unlived life. You don’t have to live forever; you just have to live.”
“So you agree with Rob, then? That I have no life outside of this.”
He took a bit of a shaky breath, never disconnecting his eyes from mine, then pushed himself up and sat next to me on the bed.
“I think you should choose what your life looks like, but that you should be happy living it. If this makes you happy, good. But if it’s just what you do because you’re scared of being you in public, then I guess… I guess I’ve made some mistakes.”
My eyes narrowed at him in confusion as he finished his answer. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing… nothing. Just... why don’t you hang out tonight after your movie? We’re having some people over. Don’t hole up in your room this time. ’Kay?”
“Oh… ’kay?” There was an obvious grimace on my face that made him roll his eyes as he crossed to my door.
“Oh, and Rose?”
“Here we go...”
“She dies before he gets back to her. She never does drink the water to make her immortal. It’s sad, really. He said he’d love her forever, but she chose to go on with her life. It was her way of truly living, though—having a full life, then dying. That was the whole point, I guess. But for him, he’ll go on loving her, even if it means… never having her.”
Tristan cleared his throat then and tilted his head, waiting for my reaction. What normally would drive me mad didn’t even touch me much. Instead, I held onto his words and their meaning, putting stock into the message of the movie instead of its storyline.
“Oh, this is the part where I get mad at you. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m trying something new. Better luck next time.”
Tristan smirked at me and let out a deep laugh as he shut my door.
That night, I sat alone and watched Wuthering Heights at the Main Art. I had my obligatory popcorn, a cherry Coke, and the armrest up between two seats so I could lounge better. And as I sat and watched what is, without a doubt, a very depressing, yet beautiful movie, I considered how many people’s lives were never truly lived in it—how it was the kind of movie I never really let myself fall into. I didn’t want to be in such a sad setting… alone.
Tristan’s words came to me at the end as the credits rolled, be afraid of an unlived life. The theatre had been mostly empty for this showing, yet here I was on a Saturday night. There was probably a reason why Drew hadn’t asked to join me tonight. Why wouldn’t he be out doing something with friends, or even on a date somewhere? But not me. I was wasting my days and nights away, as usual.
I fixed my hair and put on some makeup in the bathroom before heading back to the house where I knew Rob and Tristan’s friends would be. Maybe it really was time to try harder. As a tiny wave of anxiousness rolled through my stomach, prodding at me to fiddle with the imperfections on my skin, a minor bump in my ponytail, a hangnail on my thumb, an eyebrow hair that I should have plucked, I stared back at myself in frozen silence, then turned and left the bathroom.
My fingers almost ached with need as I drove, but I kept on going, pulling in deep breaths, looking for calmness in the satiating fill of fresh night air from my open windows. I would make it home and I would make an appearance. It would be okay, I told myself.
When the front door opened to a burst of voices coming from the kitchen, I swallowed hard, then set my keys down.
I hadn’t been around a group of people in such an intimate setting since senior year of high school. After a few overly embarrassing evenings, I’d taken to doing as little as possible socially. And yes, I’d met guys here and there. Did my best to keep it together for a couple quiet dates on occasion. I’d even hooked up with a few of them and found sex to be another thing that eased me away from fixations. It was freeing in a way. But I never let myself get any closer. Not to guys, not to people in general. Rob was the only friend I needed in this life, as far as I was concerned. But for him, I’d try this.
“Are you coming in?” Tristan lifted his heavy brows at me from the hallway, then beckoned with his fingers when I paused. “You’ll be fine.”
