Ways to Say Love

Chapter Two

Aspen made sure that we got there early enough for her to show me to all of my classes. I had math first period with Mr. Sam, who also taught me history third period, and then fitness second period with Mr. Charles. Dad said that the course will help me build muscle and help with my baseball. My fear was that we will have to run a lot in fitness; it has been proven to be impossible for me to run without falling on my face.

The people in my first three classes were all pretty nice; I could feel their eyes on me the entire class though. There was this one guy in my math class, I think his name was Jay; he seemed particularly interested in showing me around. He had really big brown eyes, and his hair was to his cheekbones, and incredibly curly. He was dressed ten times better than any of the other guys at school. I never got to eat lunch with Aspen though; the principal insisted on talking to me about the school rules throughout the entire lunch.

I walked into my final class and Aspen was sitting at the front corner; her face was shoved into a book and she didn’t even notice me walk in. The way she was concentrating on that book it was as if the world would end if she looked away. I walked up to her hesitantly, and cleared my throat. She put her book away when she noticed me, and I saw that she was reading Romeo and Juliet.

“Hi Aaron,” she pulled out the seat beside her so I could sit down, “I saved you a seat! How are you enjoying your classes?”

“They were good; all of my teachers seemed like they knew what they were doing, and I met a guy who actually seemed cool.” I put my bag on the back of my chair and sat beside her, “I’m pretty sure his name was Jay, anyways, he was nice.” Aspen giggled quietly and I could feel the blood in my cheeks. Her laugh always sounded so real, and I never knew what she was laughing about.

“Jay Cameron? Did he have brown eyes and curly hair; probably dressed as if he was working at a museum?” I nodded with confusion, but I felt the heat drain from my cheeks; at least I knew she was laughing with familiarity, not laughing at me. “I’ve eaten lunch with him since we both started at this school. He’s really awesome, and he was actually telling me about you today. He said you seemed like you weren’t a jackass, so that’s good.” Her laugh filled the room again, and I didn’t want it to ever end. “Speaking of lunch, where were you?”

“I tried finding you, I swear! But the principal wanted to tell me about school during all of lunch, and I had no way of getting in touch with you. I’ll be there tomorrow, I promise. I can even get to know Jay more; I actually didn’t feel completely uncomfortable around him.” I regretted everything I said once it left my mouth; I sounded dumb. Aspen reached into her backpack and took out a pad of sticky notes. She scribbled something onto one, and passed it to me. There was a hint of red showing on her face, and she looked slightly nervous.

555-602-2002

“If you want to get in touch with me, during school or maybe even just to talk, that’s my number.” She nudged my shoulder playfully, “I suppose I wouldn’t hate it if you called me.” The red left her face as she gained her confidence back and I felt the blood rush to mine instantly. She talked as if she didn’t have a fear in the world.

I stuffed the paper in my pocket and mumbled a thank you, although I likely sounded like had I lost my voice. Ms. Hazel walked in the class and everyone fell silent and turned their attention to her. She wrote our schedule on the whiteboard, and the class all pulled out their notebooks. I wasn’t even sure she knew that I was new and in her class. Aspen nudged my shoulder and mouthed for me to get her attention. I raised my hand awkwardly, and I heard some guys in the back snicker at me. Aspen shot them a dirty look, but that didn’t stop them. Ms. Hazel finally noticed my hand and addressed the class.

“We have a new student, Aaron Benson. I expect you’ll all treat him well,” she turned to the group of guys in the back, “won’t you, Charlie?” I turned around to see a tall, muscular guy giving me the stink eye. His eyes were dull, and his hair was flat, but he looked like he ruled the world. He nodded mockingly and the others around him followed. “Incredible. Now then, please open your notebooks and we will continue with our work from yesterday.” Aspen scooted her chair closer to mine so that I could see her work, and her arm brushed up against mine as she wrote. It felt like there was an electric current flowing where we touched, and I had never felt more grateful for someone to be right-handed. At the top of her page “Communication 101” was written in perfect handwriting; could handwriting be elegant? She explained to me how Ms. Hazel had assigned a project yesterday, where each student had to partner up with another and spends the rest of the week getting to know one another and learn more about communication skills and how to ask important questions. Apparently Ms. Hazel used to be a journaling teacher and she always teaches her students how to ask important questions to get to know what’s beneath the surface.

“I’m just going to warn you, I am very, very boring. There is no beneath the surface for me. You get what you see.” I laughed awkwardly as Aspen looked me up and down, as if checking to see if what she saw was worth it.

“Hmm, I disagree. I think that the fact that you think there’s nothing beneath the surface means that there is plenty beneath the surface.” She smiled satisfactorily at her response and clicked her pen mockingly. “Okay, so I’ll ask questions today and tomorrow and you ask Thursday and Friday. Does that work? Perfect.”

She talked like she had her whole life in order, and she always knew what she wanted to say next. I could tell she was organized and always planned ahead just from having a few conversations with her.

“Okay, Aaron Benson, time to find out the real you. First question: Dogs or cats?”

I couldn’t hide my laughter at that question; the entire class looked our way when my too-loud laugh broke out. “You want to find out the real me,” I laughed, “so you ask me which household pet I prefer.”

“It’s a valid question! I refuse to be friends with someone who doesn’t like dogs.” Aspen reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She pressed the power button and revealed her home screen, a picture of her sitting on the grass with a golden lab in her lap. Aspen had a huge smile on her face, and it looked puppy was smiling too. “That’s Lulu, she’s four years old and the cutest dog you will ever meet. The picture was taken the day that we got her, and she’s even cuter now.”

“Okay, well have no fear, I love dogs. So does Maylie actually, she really wants one but since we’re always moving my parents don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why do you move so often?” Her voice rose with curiosity at my slip up. My mother has come so far, and she’s always trying to escape her addiction. I’m proud my mother’s sobriety, but I’m also proud of the fact that I’ve been in Port Hope for two days and I already have become friends with a really cool guy, and this gorgeous girl. Saying that I’ve been to eight schools before Stephen St. James and that my mother is an alcoholic isn’t exactly the most inviting thing to say if I want to make friends.

“Oh, I was just exaggerating. My parents want to see more of the world so we move around once in a while. It’s really not a big deal.” I broke eye contact and dropped my gaze to the floor. I’ve never been able to lie very well; I’ve barely gotten away with anything before. My mother says that I’m completely transparent when I lie, but that it will save me in the long run.

“Well, why did you move this time then?”

“My grandfather,” my shoulders shrugged unintentionally as I talked, “has gotten sick, so my mother needs to take care of him. My grandmother passed away when I was really little, so he doesn’t really have anyone else to take care of him. He’s in the hospital getting some tests done now, but soon he is going to be moving in with us so my mother can always watch over him.”

Aspen looked at me with pity in her eyes, and it made me squirm in my chair. When I was younger my school teachers used to look at me that way about my mom. It made me feel like my life was worse than it really was and like my teachers knew more about what was going on than I actually did.

“I’m sorry,” Aspen sighed as she squeezed my hand for a brief second, “Are you and your grandfather close?”

“No, we aren’t close at all, honestly.” I let out a short laugh and Aspen’s eyes widened at my expression. She seemed shocked that I wasn’t more upset about the situation, but frankly, I barely knew the man.

Aspen changed the topic quickly, and I was thankful that she didn’t grasp onto the topic of my grandfather. Throughout class Aspen asked me a lot of really interesting questions. I was really happy that she was the one asking first and not me, because it gave me some ideas for what I should ask. My questions would have been really basic like what her favourite colour was if I had gone first. She asked all about my favourite places to read, what my last meal would be, what I’m grateful for, and what my perfect day would be. Her questions made me realize how little I know about myself. We even compared perfect reading spots.

I told Aspen about what my last meal would be, what cheers me up, what my dream job is, and answered all of her other questions. She seemed really intrigued by the fact that my favourite season is fall. I explained how I love the weather and sitting in a pile of leaves and raking the leaves just for Maylie to jump in them and make a mess again. Aspen said fall is her favourite season too, because she likes sitting by a fire and drinking hot chocolate with a good book in her hands. I imagined her curled up in a big blanket with fuzzy socks and flannel pants.

Ms. Hazel said that we had to record our partner’s answers to the questions, so I watched intently as Aspen wrote down everything that I said. While she concentrated she stuck her tongue out and her forehead creased. Aspen looked like the definition of beauty. It seemed weird that she wasn’t surrounded by hundreds of suitors, but instead talking to me. Girls at my old school were a quarter as amazing as Aspen, and they were always at the top of the popularity chain. Aspen seemed different though. She just seemed much more real.

Three quarters through the class Aspen whispered to me that she wanted to show me something after school, but it was a surprise so she wouldn’t tell me what it was. Charlie and his friends were making snide comments the entire time, and they weren’t working very hard to stay quiet, so they made class go extra slow. Aspen told them to shut up, but that didn’t really help things. Instead I just focused on Aspen’s questions and what Ms. Hazel was saying. Ms. Hazel was very engaging, but all I could think of was the surprise. Aspen said that it had to do with my answers to her questions, but her hint was the least bit helpful.

Once the bell finally rang I couldn’t get out the door fast enough. Class was great and all, but I always hated surprises and not knowing what I was walking into. Aspen found my lack of patience quite amusing, so she made sure to move extra slow when getting her stuff out of her locker. She put her hat on and patted it down over her hair, which actually made it a little tamer. Whenever I wore a hat it just stuck up really high over top of my statue of hair; nothing could keep my hair from sticking up in all directions. Aspen finally shut her locker door and we hurriedly ran to her car, with her dragging me by my wrist.

As she was driving, I watched her hands on the steering wheel. Her hands grasped onto the steering wheel tightly, and on her left middle finger Aspen was wearing a ring that looked really old. It had a silver band and a turquoise rock with some cracks in it. It looked really cool, and vintage; it looked like it had been passed down through generations.

Aspen took me to the court first, since she had to be babysitting Lacey after school. A girl in seventh grade had walked Lacey to her house today, so they were there waiting for us. When Lacey was buckled in her booster-seat she asked if Maylie could come, so I went to my garage and grabbed an extra booster seat. Maylie was at a school daycare until I could pick her up, so Aspen drove to the girls’ school and I went in and got her.

We picked up ice cream on the drive and the girls’ ended up covered within two minutes. I cleaned them up while Aspen kept driving; it was a longer drive than I had expected. Aspen concentrated really hard while she drove, like if she tore her eyes away it would result in an instant car crash. Aspen still managed to point out all of the best book stores and burger joints on the drive, but I already knew about most of them. I had done a lot of research about Port Hope on the drive from Niagara, but Aspen looked so happy to talk about her favourite book stores that I didn’t want to tell her. Instead I just smiled genuinely and nodded my head where it seemed appropriate. I suppose I was only good at lying if it made a cute girl keep on smiling.

There was a lot more nature around here than I was used to seeing in Niagara Falls. Back in Niagara it was mostly buildings and tourist attractions, but down here there were plenty of trees and fields of snow. Aspen said that she had always lived in Port Hope, so she thought that it was so cool how Niagara was so much more populated and busy. She told me how her mother and father had met in Port Hope when they were in high school. Aspen’s mother had gone to Stephen St. James too, and her dad transferred there during their junior year. It had been love at first sight, and they have been together ever since. It seemed appropriate to tell her about my parents’ love story too, but Maylie never shies away from talking about mom’s addiction, and I worried hearing her name would cause Maylie to speak up.

Eventually Aspen turned on some music, and played a playlist from her iPod. A cover of Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson played through the speakers, and it was captivating.

“Sleeping at Last,” Aspen explained after noticing my expression, “They do a ton of covers of really popular songs, but turn them really soft and meaningful. I love them. It’s like they put me in a trance. The first time I heard one of their songs it was right after my ex-boyfriend broke up with me. I found I related to their music a lot, and I’ve been a major fan ever since.”

I tried to imagine a reason for someone to no longer want to be in a relationship with Aspen anymore. Maybe he was moving away, or his parent’s didn’t want him dating? Aspen seemed too good to be in a relationship, like no one could ever deserve her.

As the chorus began, Aspen started singing along with it softly. Her voice was beautiful, but her singing voice was angelic. Maylie and Lacey were giggling and squealing happily in the background, but all I could focus on was Aspen. She seemed oblivious to how incredible she was, like she had no idea that she could probably cause a collision just by singing.

“Wow Aspen, you sing too?” I imagined that the list of things that Aspen couldn’t do would be extremely short.

Aspen shot me a humble smile as the chorus continued, but her singing halted. She looked out the window behind me and pulled the car over into a parking lot.

“Okay Benson, look to your right.” I turned my head and saw what I assumed was the most perfect spot in the world. There was a huge deciduous tree in the centre of a field. It was covered with snow and sparkled like a winter wonderland. There was a wooden bench underneath the tree, and it was being shielded from the sun by the branches.

“This,” I managed to get out, “it’s what I was telling you about. This is the perfect reading spot. When did you find this?”

“The day I got my driver’s license,” Aspen smiled proudly, “I decided I hadn’t seen enough of Port Hope so I took my dad’s car and was gone for like eight hours. I just drove until I found what I was looking for, not that I knew what that was. I found this place when I was driving back home, and it’s been my perfect spot ever since.”

Aspen unbuckled her seatbelt and I did the same, following her lead. She stepped out of her car and got Lacey out of her booster-seat while I got out Maylie. The girls instantly skipped over to the playground and I went to follow them until Aspen stopped me. She pulled me towards her spot and I followed. The playground was close enough that we could keep an eye on the girls while at the tree.

“Do you want to share?” She asked me when she reached the tree.

“I’m sorry, share what?” I asked as I stumbled through the snow and sighed with relief once I was safe under the tree.

“Share the spot, silly. C’mon Benson, you can’t honestly plan to use your porch as your reading spot, can you? You need something that’s special to you. This spot is special to me, because not many people know about it, and it’s so special to you.”

“Okay, but then why is it special to me?” I ran my hand down the branches and snow fell from where my fingertips touched, falling onto my face. Aspen laughed at my snowy face and brushed it away for me. Despite the cold the snow left, my face went warm.

“Well that’s for you to figure out. But now we share it, so that’s pretty special if you ask me.” Aspen sat on the bench and kicked her feet around in the snow. “You’re the first person I’ve ever shown here before. The first person that’s our age at least; I bring Lacey here all the time after school. Maybe you and I could start coming here with Lacey and Maylie more often? They can have a playdate while we hang out too.”

“Yeah, for sure,” I said a bit too eagerly, “Maylie would love that.”

“Oh,” Aspen’s gaze dropped to her shuffling feet, “Maylie, right. Okay.” She laughed and buried her feet in the snow, but her expression seemed forced.

“I’d like that too though.” I attempted to recover from my stupidity. “I do want to get to be your friend.” I sat down on the bench next to her and hit my boot against hers. It felt like the most ambitious thing I had ever done, but I felt comfortable around Aspen; nervous, but still comfortable. She seemed like the person you could tell anything.

Aspen scooted over so she we were a little closer and turned to face me. Her knee was touching mine and it grew difficult to focus on anything else. Her skin felt hot and mine felt tingly. I wondered if she was as caught up on our skin touching as I was.

We sat there in silence for what felt like forever, just staring at each other. It began to snow and snowflakes kept getting caught in Aspen’s hair. She looked like some kind of snow-fairy.

Once Maylie and Lacey decided they were too cold we headed back. I chose the music from Aspen’s iPod, she had really good music taste, and the girls laughed and squealed the whole drive back.

The girls talked as if they had been best friends for years, despite the fact that they had known each other for two days. I think that’s the thing that I miss most about being a little kid. You could know someone for two minutes and become the best of friends. Now, if I knew someone for two months I was still really awkward. I suppose that’s kind of my fault though, I’ve always been really awkward around people.

Aspen dropped off Maylie and me and then went to Lacey’s house. Aspen said she would be at my house by 8:00, and I thanked her for showing me her spot.

“Hey, it’s our spot now, remember? See you tomorrow, Benson.” She smiled at me and waved goodbye to Maylie before driving around the court. My stomach fluttered at her smile.

Maylie ran inside and threw her hat and gloves on the ground. Mom had nothing to do all day and she had made a nice home cooked meal for dinner. As I walked in the door I could instantly smell the turkey and potatoes, and my mouth watered at the smell. Mom had always been a good cook, but her turkey was great. Even Maylie enjoyed Mom’s turkey, and Maylie hates meat.

“Hi sweetie,” Mom picked up Maylie as she ran into her arms, “Why are you two getting home so late?”

“I went out with Lacey and Aspen and Aaron, Mommy!” Maylie smiled and pointed me out to Mom as if she wouldn’t know who I was unless she pointed.

“Sorry Mom,” I explained, “I thought I sent you a text. I guess I forgot.” I pulled out my phone and discovered it was dead. Along with my phone came the piece of paper with Aspen’s phone number. I had shoved it in my pocket, and I guess the snow got the paper wet. The number was completely smudged; all I could make out were the final two digits.

“What’s that Aaron?” My mom asked as her eyebrows furrowed, “It looks a little blurry.”

“Just a missed opportunity,” I mumbled under my breath. My mother looked at my confused but I suppose she thought better of asking for an explanation, because she turned to Maylie once again and took her into the kitchen.

I was still full from my ice cream cone, so I went upstairs and booted up my laptop. I opened up my school notebook and began writing ideas for questions to ask Aspen. Pinterest and Tumblr were filled with ideas, so basically all of my questions were copied off my laptop screen. I used to think that my handwriting was really neat, but now that I had seen Aspen’s writing mine looked like chicken scratch. It took me around forty-five minutes to create a set of questions that seemed worthy of asking Aspen. I tried to make them meaningful, but not seem like I was prying into her life.

I wanted to send her a text thanking her for today, or even just be able to add her name in my contacts, but I for the life of me couldn’t figure out what the number was. Mom said that if I googled her name I might be able to find her phone number online. I tried typing in “Aspen Quinn Port Hope” into the search bar, but no phone number came up.

Instead, I found an article about an Aspen Quinn, but not the one that I was looking for. The article was dated five years ago, and the headline read “Local Woman Killed by Drunk Driver.” I felt a shiver spread through my chest. I continued reading the article, and then read it three times. A woman, named Aspen Quinn, in Port Hope had been killed by a drunk driver when she was walking home from work. It said this lady was well known throughout all of Port Hope, and she died six hours after being struck in the hospital.

I tried to find other articles, but all of them said the same thing. None said anything about whom her family was or whether or not she was related to the Aspen I knew.

I slammed my laptop out of frustration and turned to my notebook. I made a small note that said “Aspen Quinn-death??” in the bottom corner, but wasn’t certain whether or not I would have the nerve to actually ask.

It would make sense for Aspen to have been named after her grandmother, but if I did bring up her dead grandmother wouldn’t that make me seem like a stalker? Her grandmother had been killed by a drunk driver, and when my mother was sober she was constantly driving under the influence.

I scratched out the note and threw my notebook in my bag. There was no way I could ask Aspen about anything I had just read. Unless she brought it up, I wouldn’t be saying a thing.

I told my mom I wasn’t eating tonight and went back upstairs to read my book; suddenly I had no appetite. I reread almost every page since I couldn’t focus. When I was younger kids always reacted like I was garbage because my mother was sick. If a drunk driver had killed Aspen’s grandmother, and my mother was a recovering alcoholic, there was no possible way Aspen would want anything to do with my family. I felt guilty knowing my mother was an alcoholic who could have easily killed someone when a drunk driver killed who was possibly Aspen’s grandmother.

As the night dragged on my eyes grew heavy, and I ended up heading to bed by nine o’clock. When I took off my pants Aspen’s smudged phone number fell out of my pocket. I gave it one last look, then tore it in half and threw it away.

Even if I could make out what the number was, I had no need for it now.