Chapter 9 Aspen
ASPEN
MARCH
Junior Year
“Ionly have one more top to finish.” I update Sage, raising my voice so that she can hear me over my sewing machine.
There’s a spring fling event on campus tonight, and all the fraternities and sororities have small groups performing on a stage they’ve set up in the quad.
They’re charging admission, and the house that wins gets to split the profits for their charity, so people get really into it with matching costumes and choreographed dance numbers.
As social chair, Sage is in charge of coordinating stuff like this, and she volunteered to be in the dance.
We’re both on the executive council this year—somehow, I was nominated for VP.
Dancing isn’t my thing, so I offered to make the costumes.
I’ve been loving all my fashion classes and have gotten really into physically making the things I’ve designed to see how the different fabrics and cuts look and move in person.
I’ve gotten pretty good, if I do say so myself.
We better win with how much effort everyone has been putting into it.
If I have to hear shit from Arthur’s friends about coming in second like we did for homecoming, I’ll have to stop going to parties all together.
I definitely don’t want to do that. I also really want to do better than Ryan’s frat.
Even though their breakup was very low drama, and Sage insisted it was mutual and she’s fine, I’d still really like the satisfaction of knowing we did better than him.
“Oh, they look amazing!” Sage says, picking up one of the costumes that’s laid out on her bed in our room.
“Thanks.” I finish the final row of stitches and add it to the pile after labeling it for the correct dancer.
“So, you know how I said not to plan anything for spring break because I was going to?” Sage asks, practically vibrating with excited energy. I nod, smiling at her infectious enthusiasm. “Well, I just confirmed everything, so I can finally tell you!”
“Do I need my passport?” I ask hopefully.
“We’re going to Paris!” she announces, clapping while she jumps up and down.
I freeze. “We’re going to Paris, next week?” I check, afraid to get my hopes up. There’s no way. It’s probably too late to even get tickets.
“Yes, and to answer the question you’re too nervous to ask… yes, we’re going to multiple Fashion Week events. That’s what I was waiting to confirm—Oof.”
I’m out of my chair and flinging my arms around Sage before she can even finish her sentence, squeezing her in the tightest hug I’ve ever given.
“Oh my God, you’re the best best friend in the history of best friends!
I can’t believe it, how did you even get tickets?
” I ramble, unable to contain my excitement.
“My mom’s childhood best friend works for a huge fashion magazine, and I reached out to her ages ago and finally heard back. I’d already gotten tickets to some of the events that are open to the public, but she got us into a few more so we can really enjoy it all.”
“Holy shit, Sage!” I finally pull back from the hug enough to look at her, the giant smile on her face confirming that she’s just as excited as I am.
Even though fashion has never been her thing, she knows how special this will be for me, and that’s enough to make her this happy.
I know because I’ve felt the same way about all the arboretums and botanical gardens we’ve visited over the last few years.
Seeing how happy Sage is around the thing she’s most passionate about brings me so much joy, and knowing that Sage feels that way about me and my interests only makes this trip that much more special.
“Are you ready for our Eiffel Tower Date?” Sage asks excitedly as she grabs my hand, swinging our arms as we continue down the gorgeous streets of Paris.
The city feels almost alive with its elaborate architecture.
The shops and bistros are so picturesque, I feel like I’m walking through a land of fairy tales and magic.
I love being surrounded by so much art and beauty in every direction. I never want to leave.
Not to mention the fashion. With all the shows here this week, everyone is out in their best and most daring ensembles.
I’ve never felt more inspired than I have attending events the last few days with Sage.
I knew that I would love every second, but it has still completely surpassed my expectations.
We’ve attended shows for the established houses, as well as showcases for independent labels, and we even got to meet some of the creative directors and designers. This week has felt like a dream.
And to add to the unbelievable, I-must-be-dreaming experience, Sage keeps referring to everything we have planned as “a date.” I know she doesn’t mean it like I want her to, but every time she says it, my heart skips a beat.
“We sure have gone on a lot of ‘dates’ this week,” I tease, needing to hear her confirm that she doesn’t mean an actual date. Even if I wish she did.
“We’re in the city of looove,” she says, drawing out the word. She uses our joined hands to pull herself closer to me so our whole arms are touching. “Shouldn’t we embrace the romance that’s surrounding us?”
I laugh. Unsure how the fuck to respond to that. “Um… sure?” I finally answer, sounding like I’m asking another question.
“Come on, don’t overthink it, honey. What happens in Paris stays in Paris,” she says while laughing as well.
What the fuck does that even mean? What exactly is happening in Paris that would need to stay in Paris?
“Oh look! We’re almost there,” she says, coming to a complete stop on the sidewalk, effectively halting me as well. She lays her head on my shoulder and lets out a deep sigh. “It’s gorgeous.”
It really is. We’ve arrived as the lights are twinkling, and everyone around us seems just as mesmerized as we are, frozen in place to enjoy the scene.
Seeing the Eiffel tower in person is surreal, especially when I had no idea we would be doing any of this until last week.
“Thanks for bringing me, for planning this whole thing. It’s been the best week of my life,” I say, leaning my head against hers.
After another moment, she straightens back up to smile at me before agreeing. “Me too. Now come on, we don’t want to be late for our date,” she says with a wink, tugging us back in motion toward the famous monument.
Once inside, we’re seated right up against the window overlooking the Seine, and the lit up city stretches out in every direction. We’re greeted with glasses of champagne, one of my very favorite drinks. “To the best date I’ve ever been on,” I teasingly toast.
But Sage lights up, agreeing with me as she clinks her glass with mine. “To the best date ever.” We have more wine with dinner, along with some of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.
Sage holds my hand again as we exit the restaurant and head back out into the chilly night, and she moves to link our arms together instead, huddling together for warmth. “I wish we were still allowed to put a lock on the Love Lock bridge.” Sage sighs as we cross over the river.
“Isn’t that meant to be a thing couples did to symbolize their eternal love?” I question with a laugh. “We aren’t a couple.”
“But we’ll always love each other,” she points out confidently.
“That’s true,” I admit, forcing the words past the lump in my throat.
I’m worried about just how true that statement might be.
It hasn’t mattered how many women I’ve hooked up with over the last few years, chasing some connection that would surpass the way I feel about Sage.
I’ve never seriously considered more with any of them.
I’ve tried to convince myself that my feelings for her were harmless, that they didn’t matter when I know how one-sided they are.
But I’ve been lying to myself this whole time. Because as I meet Sage’s bright green gaze, so full of joy, all I feel is a deep ache in my chest—the heartbroken longing that I’m worried will never dim and only seems to worsen with every amazing day we share.
Every moment I spend with this perfect woman is bittersweet. It’s tainted by the fact that if Sage could ever truly love me—not in the best friend kind of way she’s talking about now—but actually be in love with me, then I would be the happiest person in the world.
But she isn’t, and she never will be.
By spending every possible moment that I can with her, I’m only setting myself up for further devastation.
I need to pull back. This might have been the best week of my life, full of that intangible sense of magic, wonder, and love that I’m always chasing.
It’s been perfect in a way that I never dreamed of experiencing, but fairy tales aren’t real.
Those dates weren’t real. And I’ll never be able to move on from Sage if I’m constantly near her.
I’m not strong enough to create any sort of emotional distance if she’s there with me physically.
I try to hide my inner turmoil as we make our way back to our hotel and get ready for bed. When Sage is in the bathroom, I gather all my courage and pull out my phone to text Sarah, the family friend who we went to events with all week.
Aspen
Hey Sarah, thanks for such a fantastic week! You mentioned there might be an opening for an internship at Trend working on the magazine this summer. I’d love to send my portfolio or fill out an application!
I almost put my phone away, not expecting to hear back from her tonight, if I do at all, when my phone vibrates.
Sarah
What’s your email? I’ll have my assistant send over the details. I loved the sketches you showed me and Sage sent about a hundred other pieces you’ve made. You definitely belong in New York. I’ll make sure there’s a spot for you in the program.
My hands are shaking as I respond, thanking her profusely and passing along the rest of my information.
I’m really doing it. I’m going to chase my design dreams at one of the top fashion magazines in the country. I’m going to spend the summer away from Sage.
“Are you okay?” Sage’s voice surprises me, and I jolt a little on the bed where I’m lying.
“Great,” I respond hesitantly, my tone not quite matching my answer.
“What is it, honey?” she pushes, sitting next to me on the bed we’ve been sharing for the last week in our hotel room. Yet another thing that I wish meant more than it actually does.
“Sarah offered me an internship this summer,” I say slowly.
“Oh, Aspen, that’s amazing!” Sage exclaims, hugging me tightly.
“It’s in New York,” I add, and she pulls back.
“Oh.” Her face falls as she catches up to what that means for us. “Well, I could go there, too,” she offers.
I take in a deep breath as I consider how to respond.
Because I would love that. I would love to spend every day going to my dream job and every night with my best friend.
But it would be like the past week has been.
An illusion of my perfect life, everything I could ever want, without it being real.
Living with Sage, spending every moment together, the cuddles and the casual affection she so easily offers, it feels too much like a relationship.
We’ve never really had boundaries with each other, and the blurred lines are slowly breaking me.
I take in her hopeful expression, and I know it would be so easy to agree, to keep pretending.
But I can’t keep doing this. I want more, and I’m starting to resent Sage for not being able to give it to me.
That isn’t fair to her. She hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s completely my fault for not being honest with her about how I feel. But at this point, the truth feels impossible.
“You should stay in Atlanta,” I finally whisper, afraid to meet her gaze and unable to say it any louder.
“What? Why?” Her voice cracks. She sounds hurt, and I hate myself for being the cause of that pain. But we need a break. If I want to keep Sage in my life, if I want to remain her friend, I need to spend some time remembering who I am without her.
“You love your job there, don’t give that up just to spend a few hours with me,” I insist. “I’ll probably be designing during any of my free time. I’m sure the actual work hours will be grunt work anyway.”
I finally look right at her. Sage is staring at me like she doesn’t even recognize me. I know this is coming out of nowhere for her, but I think I’ve needed a change for awhile. I’ve just been too weak to admit it until now. “If you’re sure?” Sage finally asks, clearly not loving the idea.
I’m just grateful that she isn’t pushing back more; I’m not sure how I would explain why I need space. “The time will fly by,” I assure her weakly. I hope I’m not lying.
With any luck, the time away from each other will be exactly what we need to go into our senior year stronger than ever. I’ll be able to actually move on from my infatuation.
It’ll be great.