Ira

“I don’t want us to be together anymore.”

Trying to catch the joke, I leaned against the rough wall behind me and looked up at his handsome face. I was certain I hadn’t heard him correctly.

It was a day like any other in the five happy months since we started dating. He’d waited for me at the train station that morning, and we’d walked hand in hand to school. He gave me a quick kiss, and then we went to our own classes.

What could have happened in an hour?

Now, his serious green eyes were looking at me. I didn’t know what to say. As if in response to what I didn’t dare say, he explained, “I want to date girls with experience.”

I was too shocked to react; otherwise, my jaw would have dropped. He kept looking at me until it was clear I understood.

I could only mumble, “If that’s what you want.”

He nodded, turned his back, and left me there to stare after him. My eyes followed him and when they prickled, I looked around. The world wasn’t sinking, the Earth wasn’t splitting in two, and no catastrophe was unfolding.

Strange, you feel like the world is slipping away, yet the scenery and activities around you remain unaffected.

Life had taught me early on that once someone decides to leave, nothing and no one can stop them. I clenched my jaw and fought back a violent spasm that threatened to tear my chest. The only sign that this moment was noteworthy were a few curious glances turned in our direction: me, stuck to the wall, and him, walking away.

We were a well-known couple. Ever since the first month of high school, I stayed in the gym, on the basketball court, after class, with a classmate I’d befriended. We took turns trying to make the high basket. A tall, skinny boy with hair styled like a hedgehog’s quills approached us, smiling. He came straight to me.

“Hi! This is my friend,” he said, pointing to a brown-haired boy on the other side of the court.

The boy he was pointing to was at least as tall as the first boy, but he had a more solid build, and a shy smile directed my way. I liked him. “He’d like you two to be friends,” the spiky-haired guy continued. “What do you say?”

I smiled back, not taking my eyes off the brown-haired boy, and nodded. The boy’s smile widened. Even though he surely couldn’t hear us since he was on the other side of the court, he tossed the ball he was holding and came straight over to me. My friend had been watching the entire scene until then.

“I’m going ahead,” she had said.

I had been grateful for her discretion. “Okay, see you there.”

The spiky-haired boy had followed her, but he hadn’t left. He stopped at the entrance, perhaps to see what would happen next or maybe just to wait for his friend.

Meanwhile, his friend had reached me. I looked up, and my heart beat twice as fast. He had green, almond-shaped eyes. He held out his hand, engulfing mine in welcoming warmth. In a low tone, he said, “I’m Caleb.”

“Ira,” I replied, smiling wider.

The sound of the bell signaling the start of class shook the vivid colors from my memory, replacing them with the gray landscape of the snowless winter courtyard of the high school. There was no one left. Only one or two people, hurrying to get there before the teacher.

I clutched the tickets to the National Basketball Team’s game that we were supposed to attend together in two weeks, on my birthday. I tossed them into the first trash can.

The next two hours passed without me noticing, or remembering, what happened during them. After the teacher left the classroom, Rania—a tenth-grade girl I knew—burst in and urgently called out to me.

“Ira, come here! You have to see this!”

I headed toward the door, and Rania, putting one hand on my back, pushed me to the intersection of the hallways.

From the other end of the main hallway, Caleb was coming hand-in-hand with a tall, blonde girl. She was obviously a senior and older than him. “I want to date girls with experience!” echoed in my mind. Well, she certainly looked like she had all the “experience” he was looking for.

“What are you standing there for? Go grab her!” a girl who had stopped to watch the scene said to me.

In fact, the whole hallway watched as he walked side by side with the new girl. I had seen her before when I visited him in the lab, where he and his class held their practical sessions. Her class was in the same field.

“So beautiful!” I say to myself, standing frozen in front of everyone, waiting for me to react. They kept getting closer, which would have forced a reaction from me. Since I didn’t feel capable of greeting them, I smiled, turned around, and walked into the classroom, closing the door behind me. I knew they were going to his classroom and would pass right by our door.

I realized my classmates were watching me, too. I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could evaporate. My head spun.

What felt like seconds later, something cold and sharp pricked my arm. I tried to pull my arm away, but a woman’s voice stopped me.

“Stay still, sweetheart. We’re almost done.”

I opened my eyes and, to my shock, saw numerous heads looking down at me from all around. Among them were the physics teacher, whom we were about to have class with, and a woman in red next to me.

They had called an ambulance.

I realized that I was lying on the teacher’s desk. My cheeks flushed, and I closed my eyes again, while my humiliation lay bare.

The nurse said softly, “It’s just a calcium deficiency, sweetie. Don’t worry. Has this happened to you before?”

I shook my head.

When they were finished, they helped me up. The teacher asked if I wanted to go home. I refused. I reassured them as best I could that there was no need. Of all the things I needed after this endless day, having to explain to my parents why I was coming home early was the last.

Genuinely surprised, I was glad that, after the whole scene, not even the girls who sometimes teased me brought up what had happened.

Once class ended, I dragged things out as long as I could, trying to be the last one to leave the classroom. I bundled up in my jacket, pulled my scarf tight around my neck, and tried to hide behind them. I set off to the train station. My feet heavier from the cold, my thick jacket seemed to have holes in it! No matter how fast I tried to go, the road stretched on.

At the station, since it’s the end of the line, the train is usually there.

Ania, my best friend, was surrounded by the boys she befriends. She’s the only girl I know who can befriend boys and maintain those friendships.

She’s very popular and knows dozens of people from various high schools and towns that we pass through on our way home. The group is always growing as people from outside the city gather here to go home.

For a trip that takes less than thirty minutes, a lot happens every day.

Naturally, Ania’s first question is, “Where’s Caleb?”

The whole group turns to look at me. They’re used to seeing us standing and talking—or kissing—off to the side of the platform until it’s time for me to board the train. I shrug as nonchalantly as possible and say, “He didn’t come today.”

Something in my expression makes Ania break away from the group and come over to take my hand. She pulls me onto the train, and we look for a more secluded spot. I cry on her shoulder while she comforts me, asking no questions.

After a few minutes, I calm down. She hands me a wet, makeup-removing wipe to clean my face.

“The train is starting to fill up. Do you want to go to our seats?”

“You go,”

She studies my face. “No, I’ll stay with you.”

“No, please. You know Swede and his crew will come after you.”

“I’ll send them packing.”

I didn’t feel like I could handle it, but I didn’t insist. “Can you tell I’ve been crying?” I asked under my breath.

She looked at me for a moment and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“No,” she replied firmly. Ania stayed with me. As expected, they showed up with a commotion within three minutes.

“What are you guys doing here?” Swede says, plopping down in the chair in front of us and flopping back, as if he’d been sitting there the whole time. Obviously, that nickname comes from the fact that he’s a genuine blonde. He has light blue eyes and a contagious smile.

Two more girls, whom I only knew by sight, appeared behind him. They greeted us—Ania more than me—and sat down in the seats in the next row. Three more guys from Swede’s crew followed them. Two sat in front of the girls. The third guy slapped hard Swede’s thigh to get him to move so he could sit next to him, in front of us.

They all spoke over each other, laughing, yet somehow each person heard and understood what the others were saying.

I glanced toward the train car door, my knee juggling. Another boy who hung out with them, Yad, was usually present, but not part of the group; like me. He only speaks to those who address him. I don’t like it when he is around, and now that all of them came... There’s something about him. He’s always dressed in black from head to toe, with silver adornments on his hands and neck. He also wears an earring.

In a way, most seem to find him attractive, with his eccentric outfit and aloof attitude, but I don’t like him at all. I’m even avoiding glancing at him, much though he’s never spoken to me.

Amid the commotion around us, another group joins in as comments, “What’s up, girls? Why did you switch cars? We might end up with all the old folks on top of us.” They settle into the seats behind us already chatting with the others, exchanging greetings and jokes.

I don’t hear the train whistle, and I only realize it’s time to leave when the train starts to move.

Ten minutes later, I feel suffocated by the chaos around me, so I leave my backpack next to Ania. She’s deep in discussion with one of Swede’s friends, but her head snaps in my direction when I get up. I motion to her to stay chill. She turns to her conversation. They’ve discovered that they both attend the same high school and are talking about mutual friends and teachers.

I step out into the space between train’s cars feeling relieved to see that it’s empty. As the door slides shut behind me, the noise behind me fades drowned out by the clatter of the wheels on the tracks. I go to the door, press my forehead against the cold glass, and watch the desolate thickets rush past, obscuring most of the view of the first town. Twenty more minutes, and we’ll reach our station.

The train’s car door opens and closes again, but I don’t turn around. I gaze at the treetops and the few dry leaves still clinging on, even in the middle of winter. Why hold on to something that no longer supports you?

A few rays of sunlight, having broken through the clouds at sunset, caress my cheek. When the sun smiles at sunset, the next day promises to be a good one. It would have been helpful if that had applied to today, though. I don’t see how tomorrow could be any better.

The brief appearance of the rays burned my eyes for a moment, just like back when... Back when Aria, my older sister, ran away from home. I was nine years old.

Her room was next to mine, so I heard the small wheels of her suitcase as she dragged it down the hallway. Then, she lifted it to stop the noise.

I stepped into the doorway. I had a terrible feeling that something wasn’t right.

Before we went to bed, Mom and Aria had another awful fight. It ended with Mom slapping Aria and screaming that she was good for nothing. At times like these, I was consumed with pain, knowing that Dad wasn’t home. He was often away for races, and in his absence, Mom became far too stressed and on edge.

That evening, after Mom hit Aria again, something seemed to break inside my sister. Her gaze went blank, and for the first time, she didn’t scream back at Mom.

Now, she dragged behind her the huge suitcase we used to share for our annual vacation to the beach.

“Where are you going?” I whispered. She shushed me, letting go of the suitcase and crouched down to be at my level.

“Shh! Shh!” in the dim morning light, her eyes were filled with tears, and her face was drawn. She stroked my head, then smothered me with a painful hug. I could feel her sobs. Tears filled my eyes, too, and I cried.

“Please, Ira, please calm down. I’m just upset…I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t stay in this house anymore. I promise I’ll find a way. I’ll find a way. I’ll come for you.”

She stroked my hair, kissing my forehead repeatedly while holding me tightly.

“I don’t want you to leave,” I sob. “Don’t leave me! I’m scared!”

“Shh! If Mom catches me, I’m done for. You know nothing will happen to you. Mom won’t be mad at you. Please, Ira. Stop crying. Get back in bed and go to sleep. Go now!” She said, pushing me toward the bed.

I ran and threw myself onto the bed, pulling the blanket over my head. I couldn’t bear the pain of looking at her going. I didn’t want her to leave.

I know why she left, I understand it now. Yet, ever since then, I’ve understood that once a person wants to leave, there’s nothing you can do to stop them.

I woke up late that morning, the sun’s rays burning my eyes. Tears still on my cheeks, and the pillow was wet.

I never saw her again.

A painful groan echoed between the walls of my chest, and I pressed my lips together so it wouldn’t escape. My trembling hand pushed hard against my chest. My vision blurred around the image of Caleb holding hands with that beautiful girl.

I clung with all my strength to the metal bar next to me; I could no longer bear the weight of my own body.