Part 20 (2/2)

”Yes, that I am.' She stood, reaching her hand down to help me up.

I stood at the pulpit, the bible that the minister had given me laying flat against the inclined board. My fingers caressed the thin, tissue-paper like pages, open to the scripture that I had been given the previous night, the scripture that I was to read. I did not see the lines that were before me, the words that I was to say, words that Beth never said, that meant nothing to her.

Clearing my throat, I looked up, meeting the gaze of the audience before me. A small smile spread across my lips, and with a soft thump, I closed the heavy bible.

”I am supposed to read this scripture.” I said, raising the bible for all to see. I looked around the congregation, filled with people that I did not know, save for a handful. Who were they all to Beth? Would she be able to stand here and identify all of them?

My gaze went to Nora Sayers, and I saw the confusion in her own eyes, so much like Beth's. I smiled at her. I was not sure exactly what I was doing, and I think she understood that.

”As I look out at you all, staring up at me, wondering what I am doing, wondering myself what I'm doing, I think to myself. I think that this is the sight that Beth loved the most.” I smiled warmly at the rows of people. ”She did love an audience.” I nearly whispered, the microphone before me catching my words, filling the large quiet s.p.a.ce with them. Someone coughed near the back. ”I don't really want to read these words, as beautiful and meaningful as they may be.” I placed the bible back on the pulpit, and once again faced my listeners. ”I just have something very simple to say.” I could feel my eyes beginning to sting. G.o.d, not now. If I could only hold it down for a minute. This would all be over in a minute. ”Beth was my best friend for many, many years. We were children together. Teenaged demons together.” A few chuckles filled the room. I smiled, memories from the last few days flying by my eyes, ”Oh, my G.o.d! Strickland is like, the absolute best director I have ever worked with!” Beth gushed, her eyes wide, excited. I sat across from her at our regular table in the cafe, a smile on my lips. I had not seen her so happy about anything in a long, long time. The bells above the door dinged as someone rushed in, trying to get out of the snow that continued to blow outside. ”He has this incredible vision for this production, Em. I mean, his ideas are incredible!”

Beth's voice began to echo in my head, filling it as I stared at her. I noticed a small scar above her right eye that I had never noticed before. I had to wonder if that had been from the time she'd banged her head against the swing set at the school in fifth grade. Her head had bled like a stuck pig. But then, head wounds always seemed so much worse than they actually were, as she had reminded me at the time. Then I noticed the tiny specs of darker blue that littered her eyes, the color of the bluest June sky. So beautiful. Her dark brows above them raising and falling with her excitement level, a couple tiny dark hairs straying away from the others, marring what would otherwise be a perfectly arched brow. But it didn't matter. Nothing could mar Beth's beauty. Her beauty shone from the inside, blinding in its purity. She left me awe inspired. My eyes roamed down her face, down that straight nose, the tiniest beginning of a line on the right side. In another ten years that line would stick more, stay a little longer after a smile. My eyes trailed down to her lips, moving quickly as she spoke, the words now mute against my deaf ears. The flash of straight, white teeth as she formed words, made sounds, breathed. A tiny bit of saliva escaping the corner of her mouth, only for an errant tongue to snake out and catch it before it could go anywhere. The lips moist from her words, looking soft, just the slightest bit chapped from the cold, Boulder air. That dry, Colorado cold. Played havoc on skin. My eyes began to retrace their path until they fell upon twin eyes, half-hooded, one brow raised.

”Are you listening to a word I'm saying?” I was snapped back into the cafe.

”Um, incredible.” I stuttered, blinking hard to knock myself back into the conversation. ”His ideas are incredible.” I smiled, proud that I could remember what she'd been talking about. She bit the side of her lip, wiping her hands on her napkin.

”Uh, huh. His ideas were incredible about five minutes ago.” She threw the napkin into her empty plate, and sat back in her chair, one arm hanging over the back.

”Oh.” I said, completely embarra.s.sed. Where had my mind gone, anyway? To cover my feeling stupid-ness, I grabbed my cup of coffee, and sipped. I felt Beth's eyes on me, but I could not meet her gaze. I had been staring again, hadn't I? I had been doing a lot of that lately, and had no idea why. Beth was Beth. The same everyday. The same she'd been for the last ten or so years. But I just couldn't help myself! My eyes refused to behave.

”You going to Laney's party tonight?” I heard asked. My eyes finally snapped up from my hands that were wrapped around the warm mug. I met the amused look, but shook my head. ”Why? Should be fun.” She tried to entice, but wouldn't work.

”Have to study.”

”G.o.d, Em!” she whipped her head back, her hands in the air with exasperation. ”Live a little, for crying out loud.”

”Beth, we've had this conversation before. I am here to study. Not party.” I explained, for the millionth time. Beth and I would just never see eye to eye on this subject.

”What, and I'm not?” she said, suddenly sobering.

”I didn't say that. I was not talking about you, Beth. I was talking about me.” I said, my voice edged just slightly with irritation. Why did she always have to infer that I was talking about her? I tried to catch her eyes, but she would not look at me. Then it hit me. Like a ton of bricks, it hit me. Beth still thought of herself as lower than me. Like she was not worthy. I felt my heart sink, then reached across the table to take her hand in mine. Her gazed raised to meet mine. She looked so shy. Jackpot. ”Beth, don't feel that you have to compete with me.” I said, my voice soft. ”We are different people.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I stopped her, holding a hand up. ”I could never do what you do on stage. Ever.” She stared at me, and I stared back. We must have sat there for five minutes, just staring, holding hands. I did not want to let go, and was surprised when I felt her thumb rubbing over the back of my hand and thumb. A small, soft smile spread across those lips, and she nodded, as if coming to some sort of decision in her head.

”Thanks.” She said, her voice just above a whisper. I smiled back, squeezing her hand a bit tighter. She looked away, looking out the gla.s.s door of the place, seeing the wind had slowed, but the snow continued to fall. She turned back to me. ”Wanna go walk in it?” Without hesitation I nodded. One of my favorite past times. We stood, and tugging our heavy coats on, tossing some bills onto the table, and heading out into the early winter evening.

I swallowed hard, trying to make those snow-filled images leave my mind. I closed my eyes for a moment, only to open them to see the church still before me. ”Beth,” I stopped to clear my throat. ”Sorry.” I whispered, smiling slightly. ”Beth was the kind of person who, who you could count on for anything. For everything.” I glanced out the window, seeing the snow beginning to lightly fall. I smiled. ”How many of you from the neighborhood remember Beth's snow creations?” again, chuckling around the sanctuary, as I saw heads bobbing with the memory. ”What about the year she made the anatomically correct reindeer?” I grinned, looking to Billy, who had helped her. He tried to hide his smile behind his hand. ”Or how about that horrible victory cry she'd yell when we played street football?” I found myself chuckling along with that one, as well. Seeing and hearing it plain as day in my mind's eye. ”And could she ever make a good s...o...b..ll,”

The campus was nearly empty as the later the night got, the colder it got. Beth and I strolled along the path, my hands tucked inside my coat pockets, hers tossing a ball of snow around from hand to hand. We talked. And then she said something that for some reason made me get quiet.

”I've decided to take that cute little blonde out.” She said, her tone casual. She glanced over at me, the devil in her eyes. I didn't look back.

”Oh.” Was all I said.

”You know the one I'm talking about, right?” she threw the s...o...b..ll up in the air, catching it mid-fall. I nodded.

”Yeah. Madeleine Briggs from your Aspects of Theater cla.s.s.” I said, my voice low, even.

”Gee, don't sound so excited about it, Em.”

”Sorry.” I said, putting a smile on my face. Why the h.e.l.l was I ticked? She had a right. Just because we had been spending every single free minute together for the last semester didn't mean I had any claim to her, or anything. She smiled back, though it was obviously forced. For just a second I got the strange feeling that she was not all that excited over the prospects of Madeleine Briggs, either. ”What are you planning to do?” I asked, I suppose trying to pry information out of her that I could take home and dissect later. G.o.d, I was a bad person. She shrugged.

”I don't know. I was thinking about taking her to Laney's party.”

”Oh.” Now I really didn't want to go.

”But, I don't know.” She said with a sigh, then I sucked in my breath as I felt incredibly cold fingers slide incredibly more cold snow down the back of my s.h.i.+rt. I stopped, bringing my shoulder blades together to attempt to stop the progress of the snow from chilling any more of my back than necessary.

”You are evil,” I managed through clenched teeth. She began to laugh, then backed away, gathering more snow as I tried to get myself composed enough to attack, or at the very least, defend myself.

”You're gonna get it!”

I head the words echoing in my mind as I lowered my head, my eyes closed as a lone tear managed to escape past the walls of my heart that were quickly weakening, falling with every memory, every moment I ever spent with her. Every time I saw her look at me in that special way that only Beth could look, making you feel special, separate from the rest of the crowd. I liked to think that that look was just for me, but never really knew for sure. The tear slid down my cheek, falling to the bible on the pulpit below, making a dark spot on the already dark leather.

”Beth was a presence,” I continued shakily. ”Not a person. She had a gift. A gift to be able to reach down inside you, touch a part of your soul, and take it with her.” I did not raise my head as another tear slipped out to follow the path of the first. I could not face the eyes that watched me struggle, watched my internal battle that I was quickly losing. As my voice began to quiver just a bit, I heard the sound of someone blowing their nose, and yet someone else crying quietly. I could not look into the tortured eyes of someone else when I could barely face my own torment. ”She was my best friend.” I whispered, and stepped away from the microphone, from the very visible eyes of the others, stepping away from myself, from my self-control. I needed air. Needed to be alone.

”h.e.l.lo?” I said into the receiver, just a bit more than annoyed. I hated being bothered when I was writing a paper. But then, I was the one who forget to unplug the phone.

”Ha ha! Got you at home. Goody.”

”Beth. What do you want?” I asked, flipping through my dictionary, looking for the perfect word that would fit.

”Come out with me.”

”Can't. Give me a word for alike?” I said, my brows drawn as I continued my search.

”Um, let me think. Oh, got a good one.” I could hear the smile in her voice, and so looked up from my dictionary, waiting to hear the terms of use. ”I'll give you this wonderful, great, terrific word if you come out with me.”

”Beth, I have a dictionary in my hands as we speak.”

”So? But it wouldn't come from me.” She countered. I took my reading gla.s.ses off, tossing them onto the desk, rubbed my eyes.

”Okay. Where?”

”To Laney's party.” I groaned.

”Beth,”

”No whining. Yay or nay?” with a loud sigh, I agreed.

”Fine. Spill it.” I said, my fingers poised above my type writer. ”And this better be good.” I warned.

”Symbiotic.” She said, obviously proud of herself. I re-read my sentence, fitting Beth's word in, and having to admit that it worked perfectly. ”I did good, right?”

”Yes. You did good. Fine. I'll go.” I was about to hang up, but stopped. ”What about Madeleine? I thought she was going to go with you?”

”Nah. Decided I'd rather go with you. See you in fifteen minutes.”

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