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| Treasure Hunting: "Get lucky tonight?"
I smile slightly. Her back is to me and while I hardly make a sound as I approach, she still knows I'm there. I don't know why I bother anymore. Trish is always like this. She has no use for smalltalk, or greetings, or common politeness. She dives straight to the point on everything. Yet for all her bluntness, she's the most aware person I know.
"Almost." I don't give her details, she doesn't ask. She doesn't move at all, perched on the edge of a headstone, her arms wrapped around her legs, reddish blond dreds appearing gray in the darkness. I guess that's how we get along so well, knowing what not to say. Still, as I stand behind her in the chill cemetery air I realize we've been drifting apart.
All statistics say this should have happened years ago, I mean, a girl and a guy friendship and besides that we're so completely different it's like night and day. I'm into sports, popular, the middle class all American kid. Trish is well not, not one of the geeks, not the artsy type, definitely not a prep, not quite with any group really though she drifts through them all. She's like water, filling in between the cracks. But it's never been a problem with us. We've gone through periods of busyness, summer vacations, football season, but we always pick up right where we left off as if nothing has happened. Now I feel strange outside our usual banter, awkward somehow, as though something has shifted and I wonder when it happened.
Maybe that's why she left the note in my locker. Trish always picks up on stuff long before I do. She says it's because a part of her is outside the world, that it's easier to see what others miss. Sometimes I think she's right. It might explain some things.
Either way, we haven't gone treasure hunting in a long time. Of course it was Trish's idea. Leave a note, X marks the spot, usually some scary abandoned place like a cemetery or old mill. The first time we had the hugest fight. We called each other words we were too young to know: cunt, asswipe, cockholster. We fought until we ran out of profanity and after that we started talking. The fight was over something stupid but we found the treasure at the end; that's when we decided we were best friends.
It isn't always spectacular. Usually we'll just touch base. Once she lead me on a game of hide and seek through an abandoned warehouse. I was only ten and the place damn near scared me pissless with all it's creaking boards and dust and darkness. One thing about Trish, I've never seen her afraid of anything. She'll climb over fences of barbed wire disabling them with ease. I've seen her walk across the top of sloped rooftops like it was nothing. She collects haunted places like baseball cards. She can tell you anything about them. Yet she thinks I'm crazy for getting into boxing.
Now its close to four AM and though it's only early fall, the air is beginning to bite like winter. I can feel it though my thin jacket, hardly numbing the bruises beneath it. She doesn't yell at me for taking so long. That's Trish, she didn't leave a time on the note so she won't hold it against me. For all I know, she'd have been sitting out here all night anyway. Even though she's my best friend, Trish knows more about me than I've ever had on her.
"You didn't have to leave."
"Doesn't matter." I laugh. "The girl passed out before we could start anything."
Of course Trish knows I'm lying, but she won't hold that against me either. We're quiet for a while, she isn't one for idle chatter. Everything Trish says, I've learned, means something. Not that she doesn't talk, it's just that she won't talk to fill the silence. Which is probably why Trish has such a hard time dating. She makes most guys too uncomfortable. On the other hand, she doesn't seem to mind that much. So I'm kind of surprised when she speaks again so soon.
"Check out the view Jay, you can see all the stars."
Unconciously, my gaze turns to the sky. I can't see her face, but Trish doesn't lift her head.
She's right. It's like the sky is splattered in tiny flames. I don't know how Trish found a place dark enough that the heavy towns lights don't obscure them. Then again we're fairly close to the outskirts anyway. If I could pick out more constellations than the Big Dipper, I'm sure I could have seen them all.
"They're great Trish." I don't have to but I respond anyway. The wind tickles my hair slightly and I shift my weight, tired. Between practice, tonight's fight and the party after, I'm pretty well beat. Unlike her, I'm not so cozy around graves as to just plunk myself down on one, so instead I stand behind her watching the stars.
I wonder if she feels as uncomfortable as I do now. I'm guessing yes as she hasn't moved from that spot since I got here. I mean Trish isn't the touchy feely type. I wouldn't expect her to jump up or give me a hug or anything, but she could at least face me.
Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Did I say Trish was straightforward and to the point, blunt to the degree of obnoxious? She is. It's just she doesn't always think in straight lines. The connection between points A and D is generally lost, especially since she's just as likely to give you point Z first. It drives me nuts. Like a puzzle she hands you one piece at a time. Wait until the end and it's picture perfect, before then just a mess of shapes and edges.
"Did you win?" There's a slight edge to her tone. She's frozen, like one of the statues over the more elaborate headstones, muscles clenched, facing forward. Come to think of it, Trish generally doesn't bring up the fights at all. Usually it's me, pointing out a new jacket or CD I bought with my prize money, laughing at my hard won injuries. Only once it was her, coming from nowhere, standing over me, fading in and out as someone waved some noxious chemical under my nose to wake me.
We never talked about that either. I mean, Trish is the last person I'd expect to give me a lecture on personal safety. She'd walk across broken glass if someone dared her to. I know, she almost did once, but it was a trade dare for dare and the other girl chickened out in the end.
Another piece.
So I'm quiet, thinking. Remembering. It's like a whole bunch of unrelated things are coming together. In one moment a tiny flame is caught in my mind, and I take a step closer to her then stop.
Confused, touched and angry at the same time, my words are clipped, harsh. "You should know."
"Why?" Her voice cracks even as her body remains rigid. She doesn't deny it, doesn't question my intelligence. Trish is one of the few people who doesn't assume my head is made of rock just because I use it like that sometimes.
"Because I want to win. Because I want to be the best at something." Fists clenched, I speak with the softness of razor, putting into words what had before seemed instinct. I'm middle of the road at everything, good enough for the team, never number one. It's a dead end and I can feel it in my stomach, spurring me forward. "It's not the money."
My voice trails off and my eyes turn again the sky. "Maybe I need to be a star, just for a while."
She says nothing and the silence stretches. Even the wind is still.
I sigh, numb, tired and sad. "Maybe we should call it a night, huh Trish?"
"The stars aint shit." Her shoulders slump, her legs fall and she's leaning instead of sitting, her voice so soft it's practically a whisper. Still it shears the silence and I'm grateful. I didn't want to end it like this. Treasure hunts should end in treasure. It's a rule.
I wait. While Trish may talk in fits and spurts, you can tell when she's still finishing a thought.
"People make such a big deal out of stars, but turn on a light and they're gone. You can live all your life in the city, never see them and never care." She pauses for a second, a note of anger in her tone. "I mean, the moon at least screws with the tides. What do the stars do for us other than make the sky pretty?"
"The sun is a star." The words fall from my mouth and I run my hand over my hair, strangely guilty.
"Yeah." She turns to me, eyes finally meeting mine. "But Jay, you know the difference between the stars and sun?"
Before I can say anything, she steps around the gravestone and walks to me, her body stopping a few inches from mine.
I can feel her breath warm on my skin, a white plume crystallizing in the air.
"Distance."
Her eyes are still locked with mine and I see in them something that shocks me more than the heat between our bodies. Fear. As long as I've known her, I didn't think Trish felt the emotion, not really. Trish is afraid now, for me or of me I'm not sure, but this close I can see light tremors running through her body and I realize they have nothing to do with the cold air.
So I reach out slowly and carefully touch her face, her skin soft beneath my fingers. And we catch fire, her lips touching mine, arms twining around each other. The final piece of the puzzle falls into place and just like that the picture is complete.
Treasure hunts end with treasure at the end. It's a rule.
"I love you too Trish."
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