Chapter 41
Ellie
“Thank God you’re home,” Abby sighs, taking a drag from her milkshake like it’s a drunk cigarette. “I’ve been losing my mind.”
“You only got home two days before me,” I say, pointing my french fry in her face before popping it in my mouth. “I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one.”
“I had to take up your mantle in your absence.”
“My forty eight hour absence.”
“Forty eight hours too many.”
After somehow surviving sophomore year, I’ve made it home to Larkspur for the summer.
I always dread coming home, but after Griffin’s drunken voicemail and subsequent radio silence earlier this year, my stomach is in particularly painful knots.
I didn’t see hide nor hair of him last summer, but I doubt I’ll be that lucky again.
The knots in my stomach tighten even further at the thought of my well-kept secret–I’m not going back to school in the fall.
Well, I’m not going back to campus at least. I’ve accepted an internship program with an architectural firm in Boston, and plan to take my next year online (maybe my last two years if my internship goes well).
I haven’t shared it with anyone yet, including my parents.
I have this horrible feeling that everyone is going to be mad at me for going even further away, and I can’t handle that.
Even worse, I couldn’t handle someone accusing me of running away from my feelings. Again.
Because they’d be right. I thought Austin would be far enough, but after that missed call, I immediately started researching internships–the farther away, the better. When I stumbled upon this one, I applied on a whim, and was shocked when I got the acceptance email three days later.
All it took was one voicemail and a short text to send me into a spiral, desperate to flee with my tail between my legs.
When I think about Griffin, and the way I left things, it feels like my lungs might collapse.
My chest caves in even further when I remember that I have no right to feel this way.
I did this to myself–and worse, I did it to him.
I don’t get to wallow in self pity when I’m suffering the consequences of my own actions. I’ve been selfish enough.
The worst part of me wants to be selfish.
It hopes that I run into Griffin, and I can beg him to forgive me and tell him I changed my mind, and he’ll kiss me and sweep me off my feet, and I can have him back without having to make any sacrifices.
And I think he would let me do that to him–which makes it that much more awful, and that much more tempting to give into the fucked up life we’d have if I let him drop everything he’s ever wanted to be with me.
Selfish. Awful. Mean. You never deserved him.
Those words play on a constant loop in the back of my mind. Even when I’m not consciously thinking about him, the part of my heart that I tarnished two years ago is still palpable.
“When are we seeing Jack?” I ask, desperate to get out of my own head. “Are he and Aaron still attached at the hip?”
“I swear Ellie Bellie, my boyfriend got himself a boyfriend,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m a third wheel in my own relationship. Reiterating my point–Thank. God. You’re. Home.”
Laughing, I thank the waitress as she hands me our bill, quickly tipping and signing the receipt as Abby stands. “We can see him tonight,” she says with a toss of her auburn curls over her shoulder. “He’ll probably be there when we get home.”
My heart swells in anticipation of being reunited with my dearest Jacky boy.
We text pretty often when I’m away, but it’s not enough.
I haven’t even told him about the phone call.
My smile falters as Abby slams her door shut and turns the key in the ignition.
Talking about Griffin is going to be unavoidable–hopefully seeing him won’t be.
***
My jaw drops, eyes blinking rapidly as I stare dumbfounded at the notification on my phone.
David: *Poltergeist gif”
David: We’re baaaaack >:)
Jack: Sorry, who’s this?
David: Don’t be a dick
David: Me and Griffin just got back for the summer, when are we getting together?
I must be dreaming. Or David must be experiencing some sort of amnesia, because there’s no way he’s reactivating this group chat after two years of being dormant.
More importantly, getting back from where?
Griffin: Wait what
Jack: I didn’t even know we still had this group chat
David: Oh shit *gif of Homer Simpson disappearing into the bushes*
Heart in my stomach, I wait for another text that doesn’t come. Then I realize that David just meant to text the boys. It wasn’t some chaotic attempt to make us all be friends again–he just used the wrong group chat. Somehow that’s infinitely more painful.
Well, we know that Griffin’s phone does in fact work.
After March, I had this monumentally stupid hope that we might be able to rebuild something, anything, between us.
When I never heard from him again, I tried to kid myself into thinking that maybe his phone broke, or he finally changed his number, or he accidentally deleted mine.
Now I know the harsh truth with certainty–he has no desire to talk to me.
And for good reason.
My phone dings again with another text from David, but this time it’s just us.
David: Sorry Ellie Bellie
David: I’m an idiot
David: I do wanna see you though
Collapsing back onto my pillows and releasing a heavy sigh, I respond.
Ellie: You’re not an idiot
Ellie: Well, sometimes
Ellie: But not always
I hesitate before adding–
Ellie: I’d love to see you, my darling David
Ellie: Name a time and place.
David: Any chance you’d come over to Griffin’s and hang with us like we used to?
David: Enough time has passed that it’s not weird, right?
David: I miss the band :(
A wave of nausea floods my body as I force myself to type out the words.
Ellie: David, he doesn’t want to see me
Ellie: We haven’t spoken in two years
Ellie: There’s no reunion tour this time
David: That’s not true
David: He called you in March for a reason, even if he said it was mistake
David: What is it with you guys and saying that shit to each other?
My eyes widen in shock. I had no idea he told David about it. Or anyone, for that matter. I certainly didn’t.
David: If he says yes, will you come?
Ellie: Leave it alone, David
Ellie: Don’t ruin his summer on day one by dragging me into it
I don’t bother waiting for a reply before putting my phone on silent and setting it on my bedside table. I don’t need to see it in writing that Griffin doesn’t want to see me.
“Are you fucking kidding me,” I mutter as my phone buzzes on the hard wood. I should have expected it–David notoriously (and shamelessly) refuses to accept the end of a conversation.
With an annoyed huff, I roll over to grab my phone, but when I see the notification my breathing stops.
Griffin: Howdy Eleanor
This must be a dream. I must have fallen asleep.
Ellie: Hi Griffin
I’m starting to feel lightheaded–I think my body has forgotten how to breathe.
Griffin: So you’re home for the summer?
My breathing resumes in shallow, anxious inhales.
Ellie: Yes, I got home a few days ago.
Ellie: You?
Griffin: Yup.
I desperately try to scrounge up a follow-up question when another text comes through.
Griffin: Well not just for the summer
Griffin: Got a full time promotion with the contractor
Ellie: Oh, that’s great
Ellie: How have you been?
The typing bubble pops up, then disappears. Pops up again, then disappears again. After an agonizing five minutes, he finally replies.
Griffin: We don’t have to do this
Griffin: I don’t really know why I texted you
Griffin: I guess that stupid group text scrambled my brain
Tears well in my eyes, instantly spilling down my cheeks. This is my worst-case scenario. I’ve daydreamed a thousand times about what he might say to me if we ever spoke again. I can’t daydream anymore. Now it’s a waking nightmare.
Ellie: It’s okay, I get it, I really do
Ellie: I was surprised you texted me
Ellie: I promise I’ll leave you alone this summer
Ellie: I know I’m the last person you want to see
Ellie: And I don’t blame you. Have a good summer, Griffin.
The tears are coming in earnest now, a sob choking its way up my throat as I bury my head in my pillow.
Griffin: I always want to see you Eleanor
Griffin: Lord help me, but I do
Griffin: I think about you constantly
Griffin: I miss you so much it hurts
My breath hitches mid-sob, but another text comes through before I can begin to reply.
Griffin: I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair
Griffin: I’m the one who needs to leave you alone
Panic rises like bile in my throat. The last thing I ever want is for Griffin Hart to leave me alone. Even if I’m the one who left him alone to begin with.
Ellie: I don’t want to be left alone
Ellie: I miss you too
Ellie: What if we hung out? Just lunch or something casual, no pressure
I chew anxiously on my lower lip, silently pleading for him to say yes.
Griffin: Yeah, I’d like that
Griffin: How about I pick you up tomorrow?
I reply as fast as possible before he has a chance to change his mind.
Ellie: That sounds perfect
Ellie: Let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll see you then
This time when I set my phone down, I’m genuinely giggling and kicking my feet as my tears dry up. Maybe hope isn’t monumentally stupid after all.