Every night that I spent sitting in Diana’s front yard, staring up her window, I descended a couple rungs to a new, disturbing low. And yet I kept doing it, night after night. If my brothers knew what I was doing they’d lock me in my room for my own good, but I didn’t show up for breakfast anymore, so I didn’t have to listen to them decide how I should live my life.
I arrived at Diana’s yard soon after it got dark, and stayed until I fell asleep. Usually I’d wake up before daylight and wander home, sleepwalk through the day, and then do it all again. The vigil didn’t have a purpose or a goal. It was what I had to do.
It didn’t feel like I was making a statement. Not like I was trying to prove to Diana how much I loved her or anything. There was no hope that a voice would whisper in her ear, See there? That guy wasting his nights in your yard? He must really be serious. I didn’t feel more serious than I did the day before. It was relaxing, actually. That probably makes me sound insane.
I sat with my back against an oak tree and ate packaged foods and drank Gatorade. The first night, Diana’s mom came out a few minutes after I’d settled myself. She glanced at my picnic with distaste, and me with pity. To be pitied by a mom. The new levels of humiliation were almost funny, sometimes.
“Markos, honey? What’s going on?”
I considered not answering her, but it was her house, and I didn’t need her calling the cops on me. Diana had told me how protective she was. “Nothing.”
“Because I don’t think Diana wants to see you.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t ring the doorbell.”
“So . . . you’re going to stay out here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Because otherwise I might never leave my house again. “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
Mrs. North nodded. “Well, yes, and I hope she does . . . but maybe it would be better for you to wait for her to call? At home?”
“I’d rather wait here.”
She nodded again, then picked a leaf off the tree above her head and worried it through her fingers. “It’s nice to see your dedication, of course, it’s just that . . . it seems like a lot of trouble to go to.”
I leaned back into the bark of the tree and closed my eyes. It was almost as if she was trying to bait me, but I was underneath too many layers of shit to be roused by something so stupid. “Ignore me, Mrs. North. I won’t bother you or Diana or Mr. North. I’m only going to sit here for a while.”
After a second she shrugged and turned back to the house, dropping her leaf and brushing her hands like she was brushing away me and her daughter’s problems.
—She should’ve kicked me out.
—Why?
—I’m a menace.
—So leave.
—But I won’t hurt her again.
—Who says you won’t?
—I do.
—People hurt each other. It’s what they do. Nobody can decide they will never hurt again.
—But I’ll try not to. Doesn’t that count for anything?
—Is that why you’re sitting out here? To prove something?
—No. I just can’t think of anything better to do.
—So . . . staring at a window it is.
—Staring at a window.
—What’s going to happen?
—She’ll either come out and talk to me—
—Unlikely.
—Or I’ll stop wanting to sit here. I’ll get up and not care anymore. Either one would be fine.
The next night I found a blanket under the tree, presumably left by Diana’s mom. This was the person who’d cared for Diana her whole life. It was weirdly comforting that this same person was now taking care of me.
It seemed, under the tree wrapped in the blanket with nothing to do but think, that I only had bad signs and bad memories to sort through and catalog. There were the mistakes I made, like kissing Kay, or the betrayals by others, like Ari spelling away Win and Diana lying about it. Then there were the memories that I thought were good at the time but have since turned rotten: anything Win-related, which meant my entire life, practically, from age five onward, and the more recent memories of spending time with Diana, from the diner parking lot continuing backward to the bonfire. All of those were tainted, too burning hot to touch.
I tried to think of nothing. Meditate, I guess you’d say. But my mind wouldn’t empty. No blank room to escape to.
I could only talk to myself and imagine futures less terrible than the one I was destined for.
I imagined dozing off under the tree and waking up with Diana curled up next to me.
I imagined walking in to the hardware store and seeing my brothers and mom cleaning the place out, organizing everything into clearly labeled sections and rows that didn’t dead-end and backtrack.
I imagined a different set of brothers: ones who understood me like Win had.