Shawn's Letter

Shawn is best friend of past years,
roommate at one time—
these were the ancient best days;
the memories of four o’clock apartment crowds,
awake with racing madness,
of haunted bloodstream’s,
‘cause its cheap,
‘cause it can be burnt in light bulbs,
and besides we live in Meth capital of the world
and downstairs of the condo we shared,
were these dark, shadow like lumps,
who slept twenty minutes
to awake to six o’clock sunshine and another fix;
constant complaints from neighbors of noise,
“Shit, they’re your friends Shawn”
was always argument,
but secretly I was fascinated
by their skinny, sucked up, flesh on bone faces,
their conversations speedily spat
and their drawings produced
on Taco Bell napkins
in all night, nightmare bloodstream binges.
Shawn was skater superhero among most,
friend from school to others,
he had a pudgy, little brother-like face
with dimples and blue eyes,
and a big mouth full of instigation loudness
and smart ass remarks,
that I always loved to hear.
He was funny, shy-like around girls
who played Barbie and corvette
with his subtle cuteness,
shy eyed stares,
and insecure insults and affirmations;
yet, he skated with Hall of Justice like skill
and we all,
there was a group of us like brothers,
shared dysfunctions, music interests and skateboarding.

1
That night, among friends spitting conversation and what not, she arrived in a quiet way, Matt as always announcing the play by play in subliminal drunk commentary of instigations and laughing. Her blue eyes, her wash-faded, plain yellow t-shirt, it all fit her so well. Yeah, I knew Lainey, we all knew Lainey. Sure most of us had, at least once, a random four, five word conversation with her, here or there, around--though she always seemed uninterested in what I had to say, distant, looking over my shoulder, shy like actions, sweetness of melted chocolate in her voice that all produced this sexiness, her sexiness was undeniable, almost magical in it’s way of attracting you and making you question “why so sexy?”

But, that night, yellow t-shirt, lamp over-head showing soft-glow shadow halo on top of her straight, stringy blonde hair; occasional, pleasant, intermittent smiles, that she hid so much behind--only to find out later about her trivial discontinuations; these were the things haunting her sexiness, regardless of how delectably alluring it was.
I left briefly, then came back, only to find her more real than ever, sitting lonely, lost in the sacred surroundings of men talking and acting like boys, yelling, drinking, smoking. On the table next to her sat three empty beer cans, but it was her sweetness ankles exposed at end of jeans, soft wrists, crossed on knees, that, for some reason, were all so sensually exquisite.
She turned, paused as she looked and smiled at me, maybe noticing my sudden fascination with her, but I resisted those thoughts, smiled back to her and stepped back into the kitchen for a new Rum, shot of some Topaka or Tuaca liquor shit, that tasted sweet, and went down, chased by a straight shot of Rum.
Matt stood next to me in the kitchen, his loud conversation echoed off the cheap cupboards and dirty counters--battling Lou Barlow and Sebadoh, through blaring speakers. I looked at Matt, he returned the look without a slip of words, then smirked, cigarette hanging loosely, unlit,
“What?” he said to me with fantastic sarcasm, “Time to Puff?” then continued unstopped in his conversation of simple somethings I’ve forgotten. I stared at him, probably red eyed, squinted, in my own small town headache, giving no reply, then Matt, at the end of conversation words, stared back, and I said,
“What?” and smiled with equal sarcasm.
But eyes wonder, and she still sat there, probably talking low, secret girl-like stuff—probably “lets go”, or “I’m bored,” because this was the first time in a while they’d hung out there. Her friend next to her had tight shirt boobs and tight tank top because its sweaty, hot and humid--like sheets in bedroom, where I had begun to wonder if Lainey would like yank at sheet ecstasy, that’s better Lainey, look this way so I can signal something, instead she turned back to her conversation, sip of beer, crossed her legs again.
Lainey was Shawn’s girlfriend once—I say girlfriend, but he, sucked into deep trepidation of love affair, was later heartbroken pondering at again “why so sexy?” and “why in love with such an evil angel?” He was ultimately let down hard by her. Shawn is my best friend of past years, roommate at one time—these were the ancient best days; the memories of four o’clock apartment crowds, awake with racing madness of haunted bloodstream’s, ‘cause its cheap, ‘cause it can be burnt in light bulbs, and besides we live in Meth capital of the world and downstairs of the condo we shared, were these dark, shadow like lumps, who slept twenty minutes to awake to six o’clock sunshine and another fix; constant complaints from neighbors of noise, “Shit, they’re your friends Shawn” was always the argument, but secretly I was fascinated by their skinny, sucked up, flesh on bone faces, their conversations speedily spat and their drawings produced on Taco Bell napkins in all night, nightmare bloodstream binges.
Shawn was skater superhero among most, friend from school to others, he had a pudgy, little brother-like face with dimples and blue eyes, and a big mouth full of instigation loudness and smart ass remarks, that I always loved to hear. He was funny, shy-like around girls who played Barbie and corvette with his subtle cuteness, shy eyed stares, and insecure insults and affirmations; yet, he skated with Hall of Justice like skill and we all, there was a group of us like brothers, shared dysfunctions, music interests and skateboarding.
Shawn, in younger years, was always wowing about girl defeats and crushes that only materialized long, across the hall glances—such was the case with Lainey, who broke Shawn’s heart freshman, sophomore, and junior years of high school with these such ignorances and save for later hellos.
But, the years following high school Lainey found drugs, she found friends different from those who had popular-like faces and party friends, and also soon found Shawn’s adoring cuteness, frequently empty apartment and his love—this the simple skeleton of love facts and stories later to be extricated from this tattered notebook—and we were all given play by play of Lainey’s true sexiness, her love of front seat, starry, joshua night sex acts in his car and Shawn’s undying infatuation for school girl looks and blue-eyed heaven figure.
Shawn hated the meth, he hated finding her with dirty, skinny like fellows, awake days on end, feeding her the white demon powder, just to have midnight friend there, still awake to talk to and to have more with. His heart was broken when fights led to undercover secrets, hidden from Shawn, and never asked about, in fear of more heartache.
Now she’s here, one year later, done with those days, and still so angel, plain-faced with thin lips and subtle freckles on the tip of her nose—and oh, something I just couldn’t put my finger on yet.
Shawn’s still gone. In the winter we moved to the mountains for snowboarding, I’d come back early that year. He was anticipating soon return to summer nights with friends, and news of Lainey’s hang arounds again, clean.
I returned from my smoking trip in back room and with new perspectives. I walked over and sat next to her in an empty chair,
“Hey Lainey, how’ve ya been?”
She smirked then a short laugh—but really thinking ‘why so long until he comes and says hi’, but her and I really are only acquaintances, from friends, so no matter.
Conversation went on, and words I have long forgotten drifted between uncomfortableness. It was stuffy, and I said, after her friend went to the couch to talk to the boys,
“Let’s go outside,” with friendly like invitation and she agreed.
In remembering what followed that I mostly have flashbulb blizzard of images, words of this and that and her, here goes,
Light shown down, like Scorcese film, showed subtle freckles on her nose, reminding me of lemon juice and pinch poke ya owe me a Coke innocence.
Matt standing just inside the crack of the door, beer in hand, his loud voice conversation was muffled.
She sat down in a plastic patio chair, on the small porch in front of apartment, her legs were up on the other chair across from her.
I stood, head back, watching earth spin evening above and wondering what tactics—testing conversation samples in my mind, because it had been a while since I wanted to entertain such conversation with a girl, usually I just didn’t care.
All it really took was my smile, and laughter, which lead to no particular reply from her, just her shy, school girl smile in return. And though it was brief, the changing features of her face and mood, brought her eyes and her whole face into an ideal look leading to¾which forever, to this day, appears in soft, blurry backdrops of dreams¾that one moment, the indescribable feeling of harmony that exists between nervousness and beginning magnetic attraction.
Conversation began and content has long been forgotten. Her soft shyness, coming through in her whispery voice changed and it became loud when she became angry or emotion was being expressed. We became comfortable talking and like old friends she laughed and paid attention, with smiles and bright blue eyes that even in the darkness glowed.
But our conversation did lead to Jason. Jason is the monster antagonist to this love affair; they’d practically grown up together, dated on and off through high school, dated on and off around Shawn, and only recently split once more. He was possessive and not her type, but he offered a security to her, that I found later, Lainey needed. I knew Jason only slightly, most familiar with him from Shawn’s stories of the calling and harassing Shawn with pathetic pleas of “She’s mine, leave her the fuck alone,” and Shawn laughing, amused by this poor guy who was beyond pussy whooped, rather pussy stung with Lainey deadly venom, and at the time I skipped through Jason subject and continued on to other generalities of our lives, and what nots.
Now I knew why she was coming around again, and I began to feel slow magnetic motions of fate putting spells on her and I. Just the slow discovery of each other’s faces and smiles, and when I began to notice such magnetics I became nervous for the first time that night around her, but I drank such nervousness away.
We talked for what seemed like hours. Interrupted intermittently, now and then, with so and so smoking a cigarette, or Matt coming out to loudly include us in his point about this and that, then her friend, then I went for more beer, while Matt talks to her about Shawn, or old memory Lainey and him have together of some desert night, somewhere.
Then more people arrive, then leave, then arrive and the whole time Lainey and I buried in smiling, laughing, ignore the world conversation. We decided to go back inside and now it’s been hours, its late, we’re drunk and noticing attraction. Her look with smiles, under blue eyed instigation and flirting was now, ‘I want you, lets get closer’ and I was at a stage where I had lost all moral or ethical judgment and just followed her subtle tugs at my t-shirt into the darkness of the hallway; ino a small dark nook by the bathroom.
Her hands on my t-shirt, they were delicate, like white china cabinet plates, thin fingers digging wrinkles with little effort tugs down my chest, as she pulled in closer to my face and body—and I couldn’t wait, like Christmas Eve anticipation. We kissed against the bathroom door, I tasted her cinnamon gum, Coors light, tint of smoke, and sweetness of sugar and spice and everything was dandy.
We stopped, she looked at me with this quiet, innocent smile, blushed and batted her eyes—as if to say this is new to me, but really she’s a relationship, warlike-veteran whose weapon plan is seduction. She opened the bathroom door to bring me to darkness, to have privacy to breathe heavy, fueled by the newness, because that’s all it really is, a new toy, a new bike, a new Han Solo in Hoth suit, a new car, a new touch, and when it fits the newness changes its tinge, it reaches into you through skin, breath then brain.
It was two, and two was late for them. Her friend interrupted with knock, and brief goodbyes and see you tomorrows was all that was said before she left, but the smell of her perfume lingered on my nose and hands like certain dream images do in early morning.

2
After they left I went out and sat down on the couch next to Matt, and his laugh began this, this realization. Picture the room, Matt on couch, beer in hand, hat backwards, hair flailing in strands above ear and back of neck, slouching in saggy cushions smelling of last weeks bong water and mishaps of shaken beer cans opened too soon, rested on end with glance, smile and laugh. Josh on the other side of me, spoke first, quietly in my ear, leaning toward me, wobbly drunk, as well, head back on couch, hat on forward, crooked, smirking, but all seriousness in his round eyes on round face,
“Did you mack?” motioning with hand toward hallway/bathroom direction with raise of eyebrows. All I could do was laugh, at the time—but inside it hit me and realization began. Then Matt, loudly,
“WHOOAA, what’s Shawn gonna say, he’ll be pissed if he finds out you macked his chick fool,” then har har har in Matt like sarcasm.
Shawn, it had been a bit of a joke, in a way, ‘his chick’, did have secret heart broken when they split, and I, of all people, knew this well. Sure it had been months since the split, a whole winter, she was over this, I thought, as was he¾I thought. I mean I thought Shawn would laugh at any interest I may suddenly acquire for this gorgeous little ex desert sex angel of his and I was beginning to love the thoughts of quiet night’s alone with her.

Lainey and I saw each other two nights later at Luke’s house. All of us had left then come back with more cars, people and alcohol. At first she was avoiding me altogether, hiding out in the back of the room, but I caught her watching me in between conversation with friends. I noticed glances, and played along. Once outside, she tugged like a little girl on my shirt and pulled me aside and kissed me out of sight. I saw the magnetism in those glowing blue nighttime desert eyes.
“What are you guys doing tonight?” She asked.
“I dunno, probably just hanging out here”—it being Saturday night, here being Luke’s house, Matt and everybody inside drinking Keystone or some cheap shit, smoking.
“We’re going to Sarah’s,” she replied with a smirk, “Her parents are gone.”
“So are we,” I said with a laugh—Sarah’s is far, but there is a pool table, stocked alcohol cabinet, change of scenery, and Lainey.

Four left with us, I rode in back with her, her head on my shoulder, and her soft body sensitivity leaned into me with quiet, fifth grade like subtle shyness.
When we got there we found ourselves back in the crowd, scattered. She tried to catch my eye from across the room, but I ignored her at first, to play the game I thought she would just go back to. Frustrated, she made her way to me, grabbed me and yanked me into the dark living room by my shirt sleeve.
“What the Fuck,” I said half laughing, her dragging me behind, then she stopped, turned and came close to my face, and looked at me,

“What?” I said smiling.
“I’m not going to stand around in there and play your little fucking games,”
“What gam…” Then she kissed me.
She dragged me to a couch, in the dark living room away from noisy, drunk conversations and laughter at TV. Her and I found out each other’s likes and dislikes and fantastic turn-ons without a word, just heavy breathing and hands in shirts and pants and closeness of sexual ecstasies impending, but not happening.

Shawn was due home the next day, Sunday. I knew this and I knew in the deep, dark back of my mind there would be some degree of disagreement to this sudden interest in his old love¾yet to what degree I was unsure. We we’re at Matt’s, playing Super Mario Cart, drinking Heineken twenty-twos and passing around a freshly rolled swisher with sticky weed that tasted sweet and smelled even sweeter with tobacco paper.
He showed up at Matt’s that night around six, and upon his first step in the door I had the gravest realization, premonition rather, with heart thump anticipation and fear. He looked at everyone in the room but me. Smiling the typical Shawn like smile, big dimples—Shawn was well respected by these guys, they loved his magnetic rambunctiousness, not to mention he had become a super-hero snowboarder in the mountains and this had envious qualities. To me he was still just a little brother of sorts. When he finally looked at me I saw frustration and anger in his eyes and I knew. I looked at Matt, he could see, feel my anticipation, then Shawn sat down, on the other side of Matt, leaned over him, looked at me and said,
“I don’t even Believe you dude,” shaking his head. I was silent.
“Shawn,” I said, “We should talk.”
“To be honest, I don’t even want to talk to you right now.”
I was shocked, though I shouldn’t have been. I was silent, I just got up and left.

I saw Lainey that following afternoon. We went to lunch, Chinese food, she used the chopsticks, to play with her food, quiet, lost in her chow mien noodles¾maybe sensing something with me, maybe unsure as to where we stood and afraid to put it all on the table.
“I saw Shawn last night,” I said.
“You did,” she said low like not looking up, “What’d he say?” and I hesitated, I didn’t know if I wanted to say anything at first or not, then I just said it,
“He was mad…”
“He was?” she said looking up, blue eyes wide.

We left with plans to see each other the following night. I went back to Matt’s later to talk to Shawn¾I thought after a day, if he smoked a bit, drank a bit, things would cool down. When I arrived Matt was gone. Dale, Josh and Shawn watched the Simpson’s, laughing, but there was a hush, with smiles of anticipation upon my arrival. I walked to the side of the couch,
“Shawn, man, we need to talk.” I said looking back toward Matt’s room, and Shawn followed me back.
“I don’t really want to hear what you have to say. I mean seriously dude, what were you thinking. You, you of all people should know,”¾I saw a different side of Shawn, a side kept so hidden from all of us, a sensitivity anger that I always knew was there, yet never gave a second thought to, because I never had to. I remained silent, head down, everything so clear now, I did know, but I ignored it all along.
“I mean Fuck,” his voice raised, ”Fuck, dude I have lost all respect for you. Of all the chicks out here, why Lainey.”¾the truth was there just weren’t a lot of chicks out here, but I said nothing.
“Just answer me that, why her. I just don’t understand you at all…” And suddenly I didn’t understand me either. “Your fucking doomed bro, she’s going to fuck with your head, and, oh wait til Jason starts calling you, I won’t feel sorry for you at all bro, not one bit.”

3
I had never seen Shawn this angry with me. In all the years we had known each other, with all we’d been through, there had never been trivial falling outs of any sort, whatsoever. I almost broke down that afternoon trying to apologize to him, trying to explain my regret.
But by the end of that night we had come to an understanding, and though Shawn hadn’t necessarily forgiven me, he realized no girl is worth such friendship. He never really said I could carry on this hug and kiss love affair with Lainey, but I knew he wouldn’t have much to do with me when I did. I had cancelled plans with her that night, claiming I was ill. I knew she sensed that things were weird because there was that return of shyness, apprehension, in her voice.
The following day I made plans to see her after she got off work¾there was this side of me that held a constant anticipation to see her, to kiss her, to just feel her leaning close to me like she liked to.
She was at her sister’s house, she was watching it for the night because they were out of town and had a dog and four new kittens. I planned on just ending things, regardless of emotional attachments ensuing—as symbol to Shawn of my friendship and remorse for wrong done, and so summer could become what summers should be. But, when I arrived and saw Lainey in tight tank, small jean shorts, smelling of sweetness perfume from first night and those blue eyes with smile, well, I have weaknesses. Weaknesses¾I am deeply infatuated with innocent love magnetism, weakness, I am unable to really tell her of Shawn, for reasons I later realized were selfish, fear of her maybe wanting back what her and Shawn once had, weakness, for independence she had, sexiness, and how she gave me kisses of ‘don’t leave’ and ‘I need you’.
I stayed there with her that night, and though we avoided what we both longed for with each other, the warmness of bare sweaty bodies close in desert middle of night, we laid together and talked until sunrise of all that you usually find out over months, and she was beginning to trust me and us because I was sincere, honest and genuine.

Shawn acted like he was over us being together after a couple days. He knew we still saw each other, even though I didn’t talk about to anyone. But, it sucked, Shawn and I spent much less time together, compared to the time we would have spent. We skated and hung out at Matt’s, smoked and laughed, learned switchstance nose slides to shuvit out, but there was always a tinge of something, a distance, quiet moments when there would have been this and that conversation, things were not the same between us for a long time¾now that I look back I should have stopped it all with her, because Shawn I truly am sorry for all.

Lainey saw Jason now and then, but I only knew about the times she’d tell me about. He was one of those guys who drove a lowered tuck and parted his hair and tucked in his shirt—nowhere near her type, but that’s the irony of it all I guess. I always knew she told me as little as possible of this relationship which was a mystery even to her closest friends—the “why hims?” and the how much he still calls and comes by; all of which I for the most part ignored, since I guess I had begun to trust her.
It was a Saturday night and we’d heard of a large party at an acquaintance’s house outside of Palmdale in a small freeway town called Acton. Acton is where Lainey and Jason had grown up and even now lived. It was a community knitted to ours because there was no high school out there, many of the kids that lived there had to come to Palmdale to go to school.
After a long dirt road that twisted and curved until you were well lost back up in the rolling sagebrush hills is where found the house. There was a large group of us, Matt, Dale, Shawn, Josh, Luke and Dusty. Lainey was already there, among friends…and Jason.
That night, before we had left, we all joked about him possibly being there and how the scenario would go down because we’d never all been around him together. We congregated in the backyard of this huge house. It wasn’t long before everyone was in various groups and circles, as was the custom to do at parties like this. Jason lingered, and I could see him look in my direction over shoulders or through the crowd. It was the first time I’d actually seen the guy, up close that is. He had parted sandy blond hair, a motocross shirt of some sort on, and he was loud, double fisted with Coors light. His face was narrow, pointed nose and he slurred his loud mouth conversation. I ignored eyes with him, just continued throughout, talking to whomever and jumping from group to group in a drunk-like, social matter¾realizing I knew more people there than I thought I would, most of which I had become acquainted with during the condo days years before.
After an hour or so Jason spotted me in a crowd near him; he came up to me and introduced himself,
“Hey man no hard feelings about the girl, alright? Her and I, were long gone”, he said with a sort of teenage sarcasm and he shook my hand.
“Yeah man that’s cool…” I replied trying, unrudely to move on and find my friends.
“Alriiight dude,” he said with sarcasm walking off.
Ten minutes passed, I found Lainey and Jason in loud argument in a small laundry room on the side of the house. I avoided it. Ten more minutes, I can’t find friends, but I find Lainey alone in the same room, now with tears in eyes—I should have known then that there was more to this than just drunk argument.
I walked in and approached her quietly, putting my arms around her small shoulders. The door slammed open, and quick footsteps behind, then I felt the sharp pain in the back of my head, followed by brief blackness as I fumbled into Lainey. Jason had come in as back was turned and tried to knock me out with a quick blow to the back of my head¾instead he had a hand full of broken fingers. I turned around to him, he was holding his hand with a surprised look of ‘Why not in pain or knocked out.’ I smiled a bit because like Tyson I now had great boxing advantage. I missed my first jab, as he back up, but I followed with the right, two quick shots to his soft lip and cheek, then there was a sudden rush through the door of the crowd and intervention of the fight.
Lainey was lost in the melee against the wall, eyes swollen, probably burnt out and drunk, but really, feeling deep inside satisfaction at this sudden example of ferocious masculinity over small, homely beauty in mad Acton desert night.
A hand pulled me from the yelling voices and “What, What’s happening”—It was a person I had never met, but he told me he was acquainted with an old girlfriend of mine and insured me he’d help find my friends; who suddenly were nowhere. I was thankful, since group of partygoers were actually close friends of Jason’s and surely would have continued his aggression once it was discovered that I was the aim of it.
Once outside, I saw Jason, surrounded by friends, against a fence, crying—seriously crying,
“She’s my girl man, fuck, She’s my girl…” I had to laugh and think, ‘pathetic’, but I stayed out of sight until I saw Dusty, “What the fuck happened” he said laughing, I returned the laughter, “Jason tried to knock my ass out, he snuck up behind….” Then I hear yelling from behind,
“Fuck you, I’m going to kill you, she’s my girl man...” It was Jason walking up a small incline, held on shoulders by two friends, yelling, “Just get the fuck out here,” and I had to laugh at it all, as did Dusty. We walked quickly on in search of the rest so we could get out of there before more happens.
We found half of the group, one being Shawn, who when he heard of the events he laughed boisterously,
“I fucking told you so. Didn’t I tell him so?” Me, my head ached, my buzz was gone and Lainey, Lainey suddenly seemed very distant in my mind. This girl who was probably always insinuating hopeful words and drag alongs that only fueled anger and instigation of ‘once hads’ and ‘what can bes,’ because she needs security and fallback when heart is broken or needs are not taken care of. I wanted Lainey. I wanted her innocence and the quiet, emotion filled way about her, the sexiness that was so unique and different. But, this relationship was something doomed from the get go, I just never acknowledged it, I was always too caught up in this girls little turn ons and subtle attractions.
We talked later that night and she had to whisper because in the background Jason was crying at her window, outside, “Come on Lainey, let me in…” over and over in this pathetic child like moan.

It was never directly stated, or made clear through any particular conversation—and we had lunch a couple days later only to feel the same way we did that first night, quiet, shy-like and unfamiliar¾but we quit seeing each other. In some ways this breaks my heart because I have not talked to or seen the blue eyed angel since, but Shawn and I, we laugh about it among conversation, and often ask, “ why, why so sexy?”