Cyrena Lee

No False Hearts

Mei had texted me a selfie smiling before a scintillating lake, framed perfectly with evergreens and even a majestic bald eagle soaring in the righthand corner with the caption: see you guys soon, x. I stared at her image enviously, trying to breathe the stifling, hundred-degree, polluted air in Times Square. If it hadn’t been for Eli, I would have been in Vancouver on this climbing trip already instead of elbowing my way through sweaty tourists on 42nd street. Don’t ask me what I was doing there. If I had to sum it up, it was because of like, love, I guess.

I was accompanying my boyfriend, Eli, for our five-year anniversary and the 50th anniversary of our landing on the moon, mankind’s giant leap towards something. Eli was obsessed with space travel. Like so many other men, he was just a teenage boy stuffed into a middle-aging body that commanded an unwarranted authority. Even over me. We had met at a party before his belly paunch, before the receding hairline, before he became so boring.

He used to make me laugh. Once, he even told me that I was his everything. It was nice, until it slowly became suffocating to become someone’s everything.

The weeks leading up to the moon landing anniversary and my own relationship milestone with Eli, I was having doubts. I did my own cost-benefit analysis of our relationship, of all the probable outcomes, of the time and labor sacrifices of raising children (mostly on my own), and of what would happen if Eli or I were to suddenly check out, as they say. I realized that our relationship was unsustainable. Our social circles were concentric; we were the only overlapping points. I hated talking to lawyers and generally avoided hanging out with consultants. Most of my nonexistent social life revolved around my love affair with rock climbing. Eli didn’t even exercise, despite his monthly Equinox bill.

Look at this scenery. I tried to show Eli the photo Mei had sent, but he ignored me and instead dangerously propped himself on his heavy toes to better watch Neil Armstrong’s son give an uninspired speech. Someone pushed past me, sending me back away from Eli, and I let myself disappear into the crowd and from Eli’s life.

I FaceTime’d Mei to tell her that I was coming on the trip alone, and to see if it was okay that I came a few days sooner. But she didn’t pick up, probably with her boyfriend. I changed my ticket anyway. The wonderful thing about being single is the freedom it affords you to just drop and go, whenever you want. All I knew about the trip was that Mei had rented a house full of double beds to be filled with couples: Mei and Hoyt, Liza and Sam, and now, just me.

Apprehension kicked in: I was going to throw off the equilibrium of the group, from three even pairs to two and a loner.

Though I hadn't been on a big group trip in a while, I knew well enough what to expect with a bunch of adults forced together into one house: a natural pecking order of dominance would fall into place, tensions would inevitably arise, and factions would form.

Of course, I wasn't wrong. Though, I had expected to be a witness rather than a full-blown participant in this social game.

In a world where our societal structure is dominated by the pursuit of the creation of a nuclear family, romantic relationships take priority. You are forced to choose your person, care more about them than anyone else, vow on it, and then, presumably, spawn the expected progeny from said union. Never was that more apparent than on this climbing trip of couples. My newly acquired and rarely occupied singledom let me see the world with new, hungry eyes.

Prior, I had always been a serial monogamist because I didn’t trust what I’d do if I were single for prolonged periods of time. I knew that I possessed a certain power over men because of the way that I looked. Women, too.

I knew it the day my mother caught me reading about sex online at age ten, the way she looked at me dead in the eyes and said, “I knew you were going to be trouble.”

I never wanted to be trouble. I had always forced myself to be a good girl, attached to some boring, predictable guy. But this trip, I felt, was going to be different. I was going to let myself be trouble.

An Uber dropped me off at the Airbnb, a quaint house in the woods of Vancouver—somebody’s dream house to raise a family in, no doubt. I knocked on the door, hoping somebody would answer since Mei still hadn’t answered any of my messages. I knocked again, louder. I could hear laughing upstairs. Finally, I heard footsteps run down the stairs, and the door swung open. Mei bolted out and hugged me.

“You’re here!” she yelled joyfully in my ear. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” I hugged her back. “I was almost expecting to walk into an empty house, since you never answered any of my messages.”

“Ahh, I’m sorry.” Mei picked up my bag and carried it into the house. Her voice dropped. “I don’t have service here and it’s been kind of weird between me and Hoyt.”

I followed her inside. “Oh no, is everything okay?”

There was more laughing upstairs. Mei looked up, then at me. Her eyes told me that she’d explain later. Oh, Mei. She was an insanely strong climber and an even stronger-willed person; a photographer, an artist, a master of her own fate—though not a master of her own heart. A year ago, I watched her cave and cater to Hoyt like a little girl wishing to please; pathetically, sadly. Hoyt was a waiter with dreams of being a CEO of a mid-sized company but didn’t take any actual steps to get there.

I heard him call down the stairs. “Mei? Beatrice here?”

After I quickly stowed my bag in my room, I followed Mei upstairs. Including myself, there were now five people in the room, and I felt a shift in the atmosphere. The room tilted slightly, as if something had become unbalanced.

Hoyt, Liza, and Sam were all sitting on the four-person couch, limbs intertwined, laughing. There was a hole Mei had left. I sat on the floor, crossing my legs. Mei joined me after a moment’s hesitation.

“Hey now, Bea, there’s probably room on the couch.” Hoyt shifted in his seat. He was from Louisiana, so white that he looked albino, his eyes always dark as night, perma-on ecstasy.

“I’m good! Nice to see you all.” I hugged my knees to my chest.

Liza greeted me as if we were old friends. “Beatrice, welcome! It’s so good to have you here.” Liza elbowed Sam. “Babe, you remember Beatrice, right?”

I met them once before at a dinner party years ago. Liza was half-Korean but hailed from Kentucky, born to a uniquely American Southern White privilege. She was beautiful but had a weak chin—she countered any flaws by demonstrating a powerful dominance, especially over her now-fiancé. I remember the way she always cut him off at that dinner party, and the sort of pathetic way he let her.

Sam, heavy-lidded, smiled faintly at me. “Hey, Beatrice.”

The last time I saw him, he was twenty-five years old, and he had aged as one would expect a white man in his thirties to have aged. It was clear that in his youth, his handsomeness must have shone far brighter.

“How has the climbing been?” It seemed like a reasonable question since, after all, that was what we were all here to do.

Sam launched into a stream of climbs I had to try, which morphed into an excited conversation between him and Hoyt.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mei whispered to me in Cantonese, and I noticed Hoyt throw us an uneasy glance.

Liza was also trying not to stare at me from the couch, and I tried to avoid the eyes boring into me, as if she were sizing me up. It was almost midnight.

“Well,” Liza announced, “we have an early day tomorrow. I’m going to bed.” She got up and left for her bedroom. A few paces past her door, she called out sharply. “Samuel, let’s go. Bed.”

Sam sheepishly got up and followed.

Everyone stood. Mei gave me a hug. She whispered in my ear in Cantonese, “We’ll talk more tomorrow.” Then in English, “Get some rest.”

Hoyt gave me a wave and put his large, meaty hand over Mei’s shoulder.

“What did you say to her?” he grumbled as they left, and then the couple and their conversation disappeared into their bedroom.

“Goodnight,” I said to the empty living room.

I walked downstairs to my own double bed. I showered off the airplane ride and got under my covers, naked. I felt a tingling feeling over my body, like it was getting possessed with a bad idea. I resented all of these couples who were clearly with each other out of unhealthy attachments, because they couldn’t stand being alone. It occurred to me that I could play with their own false hearts, their own delusions of love, insecurities, and abandonment. I fell asleep with the corners of my mouth arching towards the ceiling.

When I woke, Mei was sitting on my bed with a cup of coffee. “You slept in late, sleepyhead.”

I rubbed my eyes, the thought of caffeine enough to make me sit up. I took a sip. “You’re the best. How’s it been going here?”

“Oh, fine.” She said this in a tone that suggested things were not.

“How are things going with…” I gestured with my head towards Mei and Hoyt’s bedroom.

“Well...he wants to hang out with The Couple and do Couple Things with ‘em. But I have some other friends out here—and obviously, you’re here now. And I just want to hang out with them, do my own thing. I think he feels left out sometimes.” Mei started to tie up her chaotic, long, dark hair, revealing the musculature of her shoulders.

“He’ll get over it. Couples. Why is everyone so obsessed with being in a romantic relationship?”

Mei finished her top knot and knitted her brow. “I didn’t get to ask you about Eli, by the way. Is everything okay?”

I rolled my eyes and waved her concern away. “Better off without him. He was more work than it was worth. Don’t worry about me, I feel so much freer now. Lighter.”

Mei smiled at me. “You look it. I’m in no rush to settle down either. Hoyt wants to move in together, but I’ve put my foot down. It’s too soon.” Mei stood up and stretched out her arms, lingering in the doorway. “Anyway, get ready. I’m glad you’re here. It’ll change up the dynamic a bit.”

I thought about my plan to break up all the other couples in this house. For a second, I considered telling Mei. We used to share all of our secrets before Hoyt and Eli came into the picture.

“Me too.” I decided against it, and Mei left with a smile. I got up to change and saw Hoyt and Sam loading up the car from my window. Turning slightly, I stretched out my arms, bending my back. I could feel two pairs of eyes riding my curves. With a smile, I searched longer than necessary, then pulled on my underwear and my climbing clothes.

We drove fifteen minutes to the base of the Chief, an imposing face of granite rock that stood over seven hundred meters tall. I snaked out of the backseat and onto the gravel ground to stretch my legs. Sam and Hoyt smiled at each other when they saw me, but both avoided maintaining eye contact for long. The men were already twenty feet ahead, crash pads on their backs.

“Like puppies out in snow for the first time.” Mei laughed, coming up to me while strapping on her own pack. She tossed me the guidebook.

Liza was crouched over, tying her shoelaces. “Wait up!” she called, then got up and ran after Sam.

I stood up and looked at the guidebook, which had several post-it notes marked with the letter B.

Mei put a hand on my shoulder. “I found the best climbs for you, Bea.”

My heart softened at this sweet gesture, at the remembrance of a relationship so pure, which asks for nothing but support and love, that can exist without definition or contract. I almost felt bad for the easy entrapment Hoyt or Sam or even Julia would fall for. But mostly, I felt bad for Mei.

An hour or so later, I found myself on No False Hearts with Sam, Liza, and a small group of other climbers who were trying the problem. Mei, Hoyt, and Sam had already easily sent the problem, but only Sam stayed behind to help Liza. Her and I were trying repeatedly. It was a tough overhanging climb with lots of heel hooks and good holds, but the last big move takes confidence. You really have to throw your right arm up there, which requires a blind leap of faith to the next hold. The thing about climbing, like so many other things, is that you have to have the confidence to do it. You can’t be scared. You can’t back down last minute.

It was my turn to go, and so I got on the climb and started to move, breathing out sharply. Out of the corner of my eye, I felt Sam watching me and Liza watching Sam watch me. I lugged myself at the last hold—without thinking of the consequences of falling—and finally made it to the top.

“Damn,” Sam uttered. He clasped his hands together, impressed. “You gave that a thorough go.”

You can tell a lot about a person’s character by the way they climb, which was key information needed to know how to deal with the couples.

I smiled at Sam in a way that made his cheeks blush slightly and then sat to rest, satisfied. Liza chalked up her hands for her turn on the problem. Her face steeled into determination. I perched on a nearby log near Sam.

Liza sailed through the first few moves easily. She then came to the most difficult maneuver in the problem, a dynamic move that was certainly not for the faint of heart. She began to leap, but then balked halfway through. I saw her glance at Sam to see if he was spotting her before climbing down to chalk her hands again.

I looked at Sam. “Guess that explains the name. When did you two meet?”

“In college, actually.”

“Oh, whoa. So you’ve been together…”

“Ten years. Yep.” Sam finished my sentence and continued, unprompted. “We only took one break. A couple of years back. We were miserable without each other, though. It only lasted a few months.”

“Sam,” Liza called, interrupting us.

She was attempting the most difficult move again, her entire body tense and ready to launch. Sam got up and moved towards her body, which was hanging upside down on some very small holds in the boulder. A small crowd had gathered to watch her, Liza and her tan skin, her long, brown hair that waved just a bit. She jumped with force and caught the next hold with both hands, but then slipped off just as quickly, without warning. Sam’s reflexes failed, and he just watched her fall and hit the crash pad. Hard.

“You okay, Liza?” Sam leaned over, concerned.

She got up on her own and pushed his hand away angrily. “Yep, it’s fine. I know you just want me to die.”

An innocent Canadian onlooker giggled nervously at the scene. “I guess that’s that New York sarcasm.”

Liza smiled at her reassuringly. I could tell it was a fake smile since her pretty brown eyes didn’t wrinkle at all. Then she noticed me looking at her.

“Hey, Liza. Nice go on that one.” I held out my fist towards her.

Liza got up, dusted herself off, and sat next to me. “Oh, thanks.” She raised her voice and looked pointedly at Sam. “Just nearly died.”

Sam sighed. “You know what? I’m going to go see what Hoyt and Mei are up to over there.”

He walked off. As he walked by me, his body brushed by mine, close enough for his hips to graze just below my back. He didn’t look back at me as he walked by, but his hand slid against my waist. I watched his lean silhouette walk off and could see his muscles visibly rippling underneath his thin, long-sleeved shirt. They were toast.

“Bye then,” Liza yelled after him pointedly.

I looked at her. “So, ten years, huh?”

Liza took a swig from her water bottle and offered me some. “That obvious, huh?”

I took the bottle and put my lips where hers had just been. “No, I mean, it’s impressive.”

“Well, we took a break once. Just for a few months. It wasn't right,” she said, and took her bottle back from me. “And so here we are.” Liza got up abruptly. “I should go find him.”

She left me there alone, thinking about where they were. The here that she really meant was an overgrown patch of codependency, where it was too hard to grow and to find somebody else. And so they've settled on each other, settled with their mutual disdain and attachment to one another. Perhaps it would be more just a punishment to leave Sam and Liza where they were.

I turned my attention towards Hoyt and Mei, who were climbing something hard, out of my range. When I arrived, she was in the final moves, her movements steady, determined. She topped the problem easily and gave a humble smile to the cheers below.

“Good job, Mei,” Hoyt called out without a smile. His arms were crossed, one foot pushing on the boulder.

“You’re up, babe.” Mei came around to the front of the boulder.

When I saw her, I gave her a giant bear hug. “That was incredible. You’re so strong.”

Mei laughed as I lifted her into the air, her feet a few inches off the ground. Sam was grinning and took a photo of us, and I saw Liza’s eyes narrow with jealousy.

“Girl pic!” I yelled, releasing Mei momentarily to drag Liza into a sandwich.

Liza rolled her eyes, feigning displeasure.

“All right, you gonna spot me or what, Mei?” Hoyt interrupted our photoshoot, clearly annoyed.

Mei got up, still giggling. “Sorry. Go ahead. I’m here.”

Hoyt began to climb roughly. He was strong, but clumsy, awkward in his movements, and without any grace. He fell on a somewhat gutsy move, and as he did so, he slammed the rock in frustration.

“Take it easy, dude.” Sam put the backs of his hands on his hips, elbows out, and cocked his head like a chicken. “Don’t be a ba-ba-ba-kawwwwk!”

We all laughed except Hoyt and Liza, who rolled her eyes for the millionth time. I was standing on a rock behind Mei, massaging her tight neck and shoulders. Hoyt gave me a lingering glance, and I saw a cycle of emotions flip through. I maintained eye contact with him, my hands on Mei’s neck, and smiled.

That night at dinner, each couple cooked their own menu; Hoyt and Mei were making steak and grilled vegetables, Liza and Sam an intricate salad. Mei and Hoyt were nice enough to invite me to share their meal. When I was still with Eli, any time we hosted a dinner party with his boring friends, we’d make them salmon and some sort of vegetables. Carbs were never allowed. After we’d all eaten and the women had cleaned up the dishes, we all retired to the backyard.

The men had gotten a fire going and were already near the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. Sam and Liza were snuggled up in a chair, smoking a joint. Hoyt was swigging from a bottle of wine, and Mei was roasting a marshmallow. I leaned towards the fire, only catching bits of the conversation before me, too entranced by the flames that jumped up and licked the night air with no rhyme or reason. My dinner was heavy in my stomach and yet, I felt this hunger for destruction. I nursed a cup of whiskey, neat in my hands.

“I don’t know, man, if aliens did exist, why would they hide it?” Hoyt was scratching his head.

“Dude, dunno, man. I heard the Canadian government actually admitted that they had evidence of UFOs.” Sam inhaled deeply and passed the joint to Hoyt.

Mei had a marshmallow on fire, and she quickly whipped it over to her mouth and blew it out. “I think it’s a power thing,” she quipped.

Liza sat up and rolled her eyes, draining her wine bottle empty. “You guys. Aliens don’t exist.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know that for sure. With all the evidence out there, how could you be so sure of yourself?”

The couple continued to argue pointlessly, and I inched closer to Mei, asking her to roast me a marshmallow. “It’s definitely a power thing.”

Liza stormed off, yelling at Sam that he was an idiot and to leave her alone. She was steps away from the house when she turned her head halfway back towards the fire pit. At that motion, Sam muttered a curse under his breath and got up to follow her without a word.

I laughed, nodding in their direction. “That’s definitely a power thing.”

Mei laughed and held out the perfectly browned sugary treat an inch away from my mouth. “Order up.”

I bit at it, making a mess, and we both erupted into further giggles.

Hoyt watched us closely, cracking open a fresh beer. “You’ve got some marshmallow on your lip, Bea. Mei, why don’t you help her get that off…maybe with a lil’ kiss?”

We both stopped and looked at Hoyt, who was openly leering now.

“You’re drunk, Hoyt,” Mei replied quietly.

I exaggeratedly licked the sugary white substance off my lip and sucked the rest from my finger while staring at him.

“So what if I am?” Hoyt chugged from his beer can. “Maybe we should go to our room, too. You know, if you don’t wanna kiss your friend, you can kiss me.”

Mei straightened. “You’re being an ass, Hoyt. I’m not gonna leave Bea all alone here.”

Hoyt finished his beer, crumpled it, and then dropped it onto the ground before walking towards the house in one swift motion. “Fine. Fine, then you two have fun.”

The fire crackled.

“I’m sorry he was being such an ass,” Mei started, but then broke down in tears.

I put an arm around her. “Don’t cry, he’s just drunk.” I patted her arm comfortingly and realized that she was really in love with this idiot. Instead of outlining his shortcomings, I lied. “He’s just drunk, jealous, and loves you.”

Mei looked at me and exhaled a grateful, whiskey-laced breath. The next thing I knew, we were mouth to mouth, our tongues dissolving into each other. I pulled away, but then leaned in, kissing her again to reaffirm what I had felt. It felt strange, salty, and like something pure between us was being marred. I pulled away again and coughed slightly.

“Sorry, um,” she said, pushing a lock of hair off her face. “I’m… you’re…”

“We’re drunk,” I replied, sighing. The moment had passed.

“It’s hard sometimes between us, you know. But he really makes an effort.”

“I think you deserve better, Mei.” I said quietly.

Mei stared into the dying fire and said nothing. When it went out, we both returned to our beds, and I slept alone once more.

The next morning, I woke up to Liza stomping around in the kitchen, yelling at Sam because there wasn’t any coffee left. I had a pounding headache and regretted I hadn’t tried to seduce Liza or Sam instead. Their coupledom was insufferable.

Someone knocked on my door.

“I’m up,” I yelled through the pillow.

The door opened. Mei came in.

“Hey, bug.” She sat on my bed. “I think today, the couples want to have a ‘couples’ day. Liza and Sam are going for a bike ride.”

I groaned inwardly and rolled my eyes repeatedly. It was annoying, but kind of perfect because I didn’t want to see any of them. I sat up, pulling the pillow off of my face.

Mei looked slightly hungover. I smiled at her. “That’s fine by me.”

“I talked to Hoyt. He apologized. He wanted me to apologize to you, too, for being inappropriate.”

I shrugged it off. Partly, it was my fault.

Mei continued. “Anyway, we’re just going to hike and you’re totally welcome to join us.”

“No, no.” I reached for my phone, checking the time. “I think I want a day off from any physical activity, so I’m just gonna go hang by the lake and read.”

Mei looked at me. “You sure?”

She said it in a way that made me sure she wanted to be alone with Hoyt, too.

“I’m sure,” I said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Mei smiled and got up, but lingered in the doorway.

“You know what? We can drop you off at this lake and then we’ll pick you up, and the three of us can go to dinner in Vancouver tonight. How about that?”

“Sounds great,” I said, closing my eyes. “I’ll get up and get dressed. See you in a bit.”

Later, at the lake, I watched the sun stretch over the sky. I watched the shadows move on the ground, the white bodies of people clambering to stay in the sun. I neglected my book, The Days of Abandonment. I thought about how I had acted towards those people who no longer functioned as individuals, but as insufferable couples who fed off of each other’s misery and joy. The sun eventually lowered in the clouds; it was a breathtaking sunset. I shivered in the dusk in the gravel parking lot next to the lake, waiting for Mei and Hoyt to pick me up.

Sorry, Mei had texted me. Ugh—we kind of got into a fight.

They were fifteen minutes late. Finally, a truck pulled up, crunching over the gravel. I got into the car, and after greeting them both, it was as if I had turned invisible.

“You know, when you say something like that, in that tone, it makes me feel a little less valid.” Mei was talking to Hoyt, but staring out the passenger window.

“Okay, babe, I hear you. It’s just that when you tell me this feedback so late after the fact, I don’t even know what you mean anymore.”

I cringed, wishing I had headphones so I could block myself from this awkward outward analysis of their relationship dynamic. The holiday weekend produced interminable traffic on top of everything. Their voices droned on, and I zoned out, focusing my attention on the view outside. Night had fallen quickly, and the moon was shining bright.

Out the window, I could see the ocean dotted with islands, and jagged mountains scraping the blanket of a dark blue and purple ombré sky. The moon was hanging in a crescent shape, as if perfectly placed by an artist.

The car swerved slightly. Hoyt was trying to capture the scene with his iPhone, which looked tiny in his sausage fingers. Of course, it wouldn’t take. I realized then that trying to capture the beauty of the moon is like trying to be with just one person for the rest of your life, to commit to all their flaws, to give up your independence. To pin down something so beautiful is impossible. In a way, to claim beauty is to destroy it.

“It's too beautiful to capture,” he said.

“Isn't that the case,” I replied from the back seat.

Mei’s left hand had shot towards the steering wheel, helping Hoyt, helping all of us not to die. She glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I avoided her eyes. It was too painful for me to watch.

I took one last look at the shining moon and thought about Eli and his obsession with space travel, and how he’d never ever set foot on that celestial body. I thought about how I’d never witness a breathtaking scene like this, not ever again.

Hoyt shook his head and repeated, “It's just too beautiful to capture,” as if he wanted to make sure we had heard something he said that he thought to be deeply profound.

For once, it was.

“Isn't that just the thing,” I said. I looked in the rearview mirror, where Mei was still looking at me. “Isn't that just the thing,” I said again and closed my eyes, happy to be alone soon.

Bio

Cyrena Lee is a writer based in Paris and graduated from Barnard College with a degree in Anthropology. For recent examples of her work, please check out Into the Void Magazine, The Climbing Zine, Epiphany Magazine, the anthology Writing for Life, and a non-fiction book on lucid dreaming.