9 Sloane
January 2017
Just like that, it was our final semester of college. Four years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. It felt like just yesterday when my parents, who weren’t on speaking terms at the time, dropped me off at Moore Hall and I cried while eating microwaveable popcorn for dinner. I wasn’t much for regrets, but I wished that I could rewind time. I wasn’t ready to leave Wilmington, or Ethan. The only thing I could do was make the most of the time I had left.
We had a long weekend for Martin Luther King Jr. Day coming up, and Graham invited us to spend it at his family’s cabin in Asheville. It was like our own little mountain weekend. The drive there was long and terrifying. I closed my eyes the entire way up the Blue Ridge Parkway, not only because I thought Jake might run us off the road but also because I was terrified of heights. When we finally pulled into the driveway, I opened my eyes and was blown away by the sight in front of me.
When Graham said his parents owned a cabin in the mountains, I was expecting just that—a cabin. The house was perched on a slope, surrounded by a sea of trees. It was three stories tall with a warm wooden exterior and large windows, which I’m sure offered gorgeous views.
“Wow,” I said to Ethan as he grabbed my bag from the trunk.
“Nice, right?”
Nicewas an understatement. The house looked like it was taken straight out of a magazine. We entered through a recreational area on the bottom floor. It was an open and inviting space with a bar and pool table on one side, and a stone fireplace and sectional couch on the other. In the middle was a massive TV, which I already knew the guys would be watching the playoffs on.
“You guys made it!” Lauren ran down the stairs to hug us.
“I was almost positive we were going to die on the drive up here.” I laughed. “I kept my eyes closed for the last thirty minutes.”
“Oh, I did the same. Let’s put your bags down and make some drinks!” Jordan and I followed her up to the main living area while the guys finished unpacking the car.
I took in every detail as we made our way through the house. The ceilings were stained wood with low-bearing beams, and the walls were off-white. Sliding glass doors and windows covered the back wall, opening the view for miles upon miles of mountaintops. All I could think about was what it would be like to be that successful one day. My parents never struggled, but we were never well-off enough for a second home or international vacations.
“Should we make some Bloodies?” Lauren asked, waving around a bottle of Grey Goose.
“You know I love a good Bloody Mary!” Jordan was practically drooling.
“I have a love-hate relationship with them. I love the first few sips and then hate the rest.” We made a pitcher anyway and sat at the island that was at least ten feet long, while we went over the agenda for the weekend.
“Okay, so we’ll spend today at the house. We’re having groceries delivered. We can drink, play games, and go in the hot tub. Tomorrow we’re skiing, Sunday is football, and then Monday we’ll be on our way home!” Lauren recited from a note in her phone.
***
By the end of the night, the six of us found our way into the hot tub, each with a glass of whiskey—which was very uncommon for me.
“Should we play Never Have I Ever?” Lauren asked.
“Sloane’s favorite game!” Jordan laughed. The boys rolled their eyes before willingly holding up ten fingers.
“Never have I ever smoked weed,” I started off the game, and everyone put down a finger.
“Come on, that’s always your go-to!” Lauren argued.
“Well, it works, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe we should change that. Jake, get the bong,” Graham ordered.
I declined. “I’m good.” Jake passed it around anyway, and everyone else took a hit.
“Never have I ever been a high school athlete.” Lauren knew that would get all the guys and Jordan. Somehow, I almost always ended up winning this game. Did that make me boring?
It was Graham’s turn. “Never have I ever cheated on someone.”
Jake and Ethan both put down a finger, and I could feel my stomach turn as a pit started to form in my throat. After that scene at the LDOC party, I didn’t need another reason not to trust Ethan. I needed to remove myself from the situation, stat.
“I’m gonna go use the bathroom.” I quickly grabbed a towel and made my way inside.
I locked the door and leaned over the sink until I felt tears rolling down my face. Why was I so upset? It wasn’t like he cheated on me. I mean he couldn’t cheat on me since we weren’t dating; it was just something that happened in his past. It made me feel like I didn’t know him though.
“Sloane?” Ethan knocked. “Open up.”
“I just need a second.” I sniffled.
To conceal the fact that I was crying, I flushed the toilet before letting him in. When I turned the doorknob, I avoided looking at him until he took hold of my chin and directed my gaze towards him.
“I’m sorry.” His thumb brushed my cheek, wiping away a tear. “I didn’t realize you’d get so upset. I was in high school, like fifteen or sixteen; you can imagine how young and stupid I was back then.”
“It just reminded me of the way I felt when I saw you give your number to that girl at the party a few weeks ago. It makes it hard to trust you, especially when we’re not dating.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I really don’t want to get hurt,” I continued.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, Sloane.” He pulled my body into his and rested his chin on my head.
I didn’t know if I should believe him or not.
“I think I’m just going to go to bed. Can you tell the group I don’t feel good?”
“Seriously?” He rolled his eyes. “Why do you always have to make everything into a bigger deal than it is?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, my eyes widening. “I’ve given you literally so much leeway. I don’t know why you can’t or don’t want to date me, and even though that’s what I want, I’ve put my needs aside. You can’t turn this around on me.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“Well, it sure feels like it.”
And with that, I took the back staircase up to our bedroom and closed the door behind me. I hoped that Ethan would be convincing enough that no one would come looking for me. I didn’t want to admit to Lauren that she was right about my relationship with him. I needed to define it, because it was no longer fun and free. Was it ever though?
The thought of him with other girls sent me spiraling. Maybe my innermost fears were true. Maybe he wasn’t dating me not because he wasn’t ready, but because he didn’t want it to be me. How could I get him to see that it should be me?
I felt Ethan climb into bed an hour later. He didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he was pretending not to know I was awake. He didn’t try to cuddle me; he didn’t even try to touch me. We were lying in the same bed, but it felt like we were hundreds of miles apart. I tried to close my eyes and tell myself things would be better by morning. If only I believed it.
***
In the middle of the night, I rolled over to readjust my sleeping position and realized that Ethan wasn’t next to me. I reached for my phone to check the time and see if he’d texted to tell me where he was going. No new notifications except for a comment from a classmate on my discussion board post. I got out of bed and grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from my duffle bag before heading downstairs to find him.
After a few minutes of scoping out the main level, I noticed one of the back sliding doors was ajar. I found him sitting in a rocking chair, staring at the electric fire he must’ve started.
“Hey,” I said sitting down in the chair next to him. “Are you okay?”
Ethan’s response lingered in silence before he finally murmured, “I needed some space.”
“From me?”
“No, Sloane.”
“Are you sure?” I pressed. “I know I got a little carried away earlier. I didn’t mean to make the whole night about a stupid game. I should’ve just brushed it off and rejoined the group.”
“I said it wasn’t about you.” He seemed to be getting angry. “Not everything I do or say directly involves you.”
“Oh, okay.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it about me. I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”
“Sorry,” he replied. “I didn’t mean that. I just feel overwhelmed.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked gently.
“Not really,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble of buried pain.
I got up, but instead of retreating, I wanted to be closer to him. In a quiet, fluid motion, I pulled a blanket off the back of my chair and sat on his lap. I draped it over the both of us and laid my head between his collar and jaw. Nestled against him, it was almost like I could feel the tension release from his body.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? I don’t mean now, but when you’re ready,” I said softly.
“I know.”
Ethan wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in closer. It was then, in the security of our cocoon, that he started to really talk.
“It’s this house, that bedroom. It can be suffocating, coming back here,” he confided, the words heavy.
“Why does it feel suffocating?” I asked, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying but hoping that he would.
With a deep breath, he opened up even more. “It’s just…it’s full of memories I’d rather not revisit. I spent so much of my childhood here, holidays especially. It’s ironic that the holidays are what I’ve come to resent, because those memories weren’t all that bad. We’d ski, build fires, play manhunt. Looking back it was good,” he admitted. “The Clarks are great people, but it was hard to be surrounded by this perfect family that wasn’t mine. It was just a constant reminder that I’d never have that.”
I sat in silent empathy. My initial intention to offer comfort through words shifted as I realized maybe he didn’t want a reply. Maybe he just wanted someone to listen. “I’m sorry,” I finally said, my voice a soft echo on the quiet porch.
He shook his head slightly. “It’s not your fault,” he reassured me. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be there soon.”
Reluctantly, I nodded, squeezing his hand in assurance before standing up, leaving him with his thoughts and the crackling of the fire.
When I got back to our room and was nestled under the covers, I wondered what really happened to him when he was younger. How bad could it have been? Clearly bad enough to scare him out of falling in love. Even though my parents were divorced, I still believed that love existed. It was never perfect, never secure, and sometimes never forever, but it was something that I believed everyone should experience at least once in their life. My heart hurt at the thought of him feeling alone and unloved. I wished he could see that all I wanted was to love him, and if he’d let me, I’d never leave.