10 Ethan
January 2017
I stared at the ceiling fan and followed it with my eyes as it went around and around and around. Something about being back in a bedroom I grew up in always gave me insomnia. The only thing that was different this time was that I wasn’t lying in the bed alone. I looked over and Sloane was fast asleep with her back facing me.
When I was younger and spent holidays here, I didn’t expect the traditions to carry into adulthood. I thought that one day my parents would come back, and we’d be a family again. I only gave up on that hope a few years ago. As much as I hated to admit it, this house was as much mine as it was Graham’s. I’d officially reached the age where I lived with his family longer than my own.
I carefully slid out of bed, making sure not to wake Sloane in the process. As I entered the hallway, I stopped to look at the wall of photos that I usually tried my hardest to avoid. One that caught my eye particularly was of Graham and me on the morning of our high school graduation. At first glance, we looked like a totally normal family. You’d never suspect that was the worst day of my life, at least so far. I spent it hoping that my mom would show up to the ceremony. She never did. I had to hide how much it hurt as I went to dinner with the Clarks and then got the most wasted that I’d ever been at our friend’s party. I slept in a bush in front of the house until noon, when Graham finally found me.
Passing the rest of the memories I’d tried so hard to forget, I went into the kitchen, poured myself another glass of whiskey, and opened the sliding doors that led to the back porch. I took a seat in one of the large rocking chairs and reached for the remote that started the fireplace. As I looked out into the vast snowy mountains, I wondered what my future would look like. This house wasn’t really mine, as much as it sometimes felt like it was. My kids wouldn’t have grandparents—not biological ones anyway. What kind of dad would I be? Would I be the kind that played football in the front yard? Taught them how to ride a bike? Maybe I wouldn’t even have kids. I tried to turn off my thoughts and drown them in whiskey when I heard someone approach from behind me.
“Hey,” Sloane said. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t want her here. Not to be a dick, but I’d never leaned on anyone my entire life, so why would I start? She couldn’t fix me so why was she trying?
“I needed some space,” I muttered, my gaze fixed on the fake flames.
“From me?”
I knew Sloane had her own issues, but how could someone like her ever have understood mine? Her parents might not have loved each other anymore, but they loved her. I could see it in the way she carried herself and hear it in the way she spoke about them. I didn’t want to open up to her. But I knew if I didn’t give her some sort of answer, it would become a fight, and that was something I really didn’t care to deal with right then.
I shook my head slightly. “No, Sloane.”
I struggled to explain to her how I felt.
I could feel her eyes on me, could sense her urge to comfort, but I didn’t want her pity. I didn’t want her to look at me and see a project or a lost cause. People looked at me that way for longer than I cared to admit. It would have been nice to start over in a place where no one knew me or my sob story. Being back here made me realize that it wasn’t just familiar people that stirred up those feelings, but places too. Maybe a fresh start was what I needed after graduation.
Sloane made it easier than I’d expected to let down some of the walls I had meticulously built. For most people that would be comforting, but instead, it made me want to run.
I’d known for a while that she was falling in love with me—it was written all over her face and melted into every interaction I had with her. I felt bad knowing that I’d never be able to love her the same way she loved me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just knew I couldn’t. I also knew that stringing her along wasn’t fair. I knew what I needed to do.