Chapter 28
Ican’t believe Sam just hung up on me. He said goodbye but didn’t even give me a chance to say anything.
He must be upset that I’m going out with Chris tonight. But it's not like it’s a date. Right? Is it a date? I kick myself for not clarifying this point.
I’m not interested in dating Chris.
No, I’m only interested in dating a certain six feet, three inches, brown-haired, brown-eyed, tattooed man who just hung up on me.
With Chris, it would just be nice to have a friend in Charleston. Sophie and Kristen both moved away a couple of years ago. With Liv in Columbia, and Ethan—I don’t have anyone left.
Before I can continue much further down this rabbit hole, I get a message from Sam.
Sorry I cut our call short.
I really do hope you have a great night.
Have fun with your friends, Sam.
He doesn’t send another text, and I’m left reeling. Instead of spiraling with my thoughts, I dial Liv’s phone number.
“Fucking finally! Do you know I’ve been waiting all day for you to call me? Did you forget about me already? I know the whole out of sight, out of mind thing. But my God, woman. It's only been one day!” I hear Talia laugh in the background, and the sound helps me relax.
“Sorry, Liv. I promise I haven’t forgotten you… yet. But give it another week, and I make no guarantees.”
“I swear to whatever god exists, if you even think about forgetting me, I’ll… I don’t know what I’ll do, drive to Charleston and cry at your door until you let me in.”
“You know that just makes me want to pretend I’ve forgotten you, right?” I laugh at the vision this conversation creates. “Then you’ll have no choice but to move to Charleston and be my roommate again.”
“You know I would, but I can’t leave Talia. Did you know she has no idea how to operate the espresso machine? I have to teach her immediately, cause you know I can’t be held responsible for making my own coffee.” She says the last words slowly, enunciating each one.
“Oh, you poor thing! Whatever will you do?” The sarcasm drips from my words.
“What are you up to? Are you unpacked yet? I know you hate boxes and clutter.”
“No, not yet. I unpacked my clothes. But I wanted to talk to you about something.” I take my feet off the coffee table and lean forward, my elbows on my knees.
“What’s up, girl?” She’s serious now.
“I just had a weird conversation with Sam, and I’m not sure what it means, or how to, I don’t know, fix it?”
“Tell me everything.”
I relay the conversation to her, including my interpretation of his tone. She listens quietly until I finish.
“So, what did I do wrong?”
“Ok, first, Chris, as in the guy Sophie dated senior year?”
“Yes?” It comes out like a question.
“Well, I mean, he was always a cool guy, but that seems weird, and we need to talk about that decision later. As for Sam. When are you going to realize that he’s in love with you?
” Now she’s scolding me. I bet if she were with me in person, she would be shaking my shoulders, trying to force the words to sink in.
“He has been in love with you for a long time.”
Sitting up, I lean back into the cushions.
“Liv, come on. He’s not in love with me.
” I’m exasperated with this conversation already, and I can’t stop it from seeping into my voice.
I know that Sam said he had feelings but didn’t act on them because of Ethan, and he seems to be…
different, but I don’t want to rehash this with Liv now.
I’m not delusional to think our budding friendship changes anything—even after Thanksgiving.
“You know, for how fucking smart you are, sometimes you’re incredibly dense.” I flinch at her harsh tone.
“Olivia, don’t be rude,” Talia says in the background. I can almost picture Liv rolling her eyes in response. I want to be mad at her, but, somehow, I’m not.
“I know you haven’t talked to him for several years until recently.
” She’s softer now. “But you have to remember that I have. He asks me about you all the time. He’s always wanted to know how you were doing.
If you were happy. But the thing he asked the most?
” She doesn’t wait for me to provide an answer, “When I thought you would talk to him again.” She sighs and I sit straighter.
“Whenever I told him I wasn’t sure, and to give you time, I knew it broke his heart. ”
I can practically see her pacing in the living room. Conflict makes her antsy.
“I know your reasons for keeping your distance, but it’s been hard watching the two of you want each other, and for you to shut him out so thoroughly.”
“I knew you talked. I didn’t realize it was that often.”
“Every couple of weeks, or so. Anyway, I don’t have to talk to Sam now to understand what’s going on in that gorgeous head of his.
He’s upset because he doesn’t want you to go out with Chris.
That man wants you all to himself. But you know he’s a good guy, and instead of telling you what he wants, he’s giving you the space to find someone you want. Even if that someone isn’t him.”
I let her words sink in for a minute. “Liv, I freaked out when I thought that maybe Chris thinks this is a date. I don’t want to date Chris.” I get more confident as I speak. “I’m not sure what exactly I want from Sam. I know it isn’t just friendship. But he lives in Chicago.”
“And that’s why he’s trying to give you space.”
“I don’t want the space.” I breathe out and walk into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
“I want Sam. I want him here.” The words come out before I can thoroughly think through them.
But it’s true. I do want Sam. I’m also scared of my heart breaking again when he inevitably decides he doesn’t want me.
“I have some thoughts, but I’m gonna keep those to myself for now.” I take a glass from the cupboard and fill it with the tap.
I ignore her jab. “Ugh. Why does everything have to be so complicated.” It isn’t a question.
“It doesn’t have to be. Just think about that. Now explain to me why you’re having dinner with Chris.”
“Because I don’t want to be by myself. I don’t want to be lonely.”
“Girl, that does not mean you jump at the first guy that walks by.”
“Oh my God, that isn’t what happened. I don’t want to date him. I just thought it would be nice to have a friend.” I pause to guzzle the water in my glass.
“Then you need to tell Chris that, and you definitely need to tell Sam.”
We chat for several more minutes until it’s time for me to shower and start getting ready for my not-date with Chris.
I can’t get Sam out of my mind as I get ready, and I have to stop myself several times from picking up the phone to call him.
I’m about to lose the battle when I hear a knock on the door.
Opening the door, Chris is standing on the other side, wearing navy pants and a black polo shirt. He looks nice.
“Hey, Kat.” His smile is warm. “You look nice.” I’m wearing dark skinny jeans and a grey sweater. My hair is pinned on one side and draped over the opposite shoulder.
“Thanks, Chris. So do you.” He blushes at my compliment, and I know I’m in trouble. That kind of reaction can only mean he thinks this is a date. Shit.
“Well, are you ready?” He holds out his arm for me to take.
“Yes. Let me just grab my purse.” Walking into the living room, I pick up my purse where I left it on the couch and sling it over my shoulder, intentionally placing it between us to discourage any touching.
I don’t want to put him off, but holding his arm as we walk out to his car feels too intimate.
On our way to the pizza place Chris chose, we make small talk—discussing the weather, my decision to move back to Charleston, and my new job with Dad’s firm.
The conversation feels a little forced, but not overly uncomfortable.
Still, I’m relieved when we pull up to the restaurant.
***
The restaurant has an old-fashioned feel to it, with high tables, and TVs hanging throughout with various sports games playing.
Beers on tap line the entire length of one wall. It's the kind of place where you order at the counter, and then they bring the food to you.
“This is my favorite place to get pizza,” he says, giving me a shy smile. “They have these amazing calzones that you have to try sometime.”
We order our food and find a table to sit at. As we wait for the pizza and our beers, the silence turns awkward. I’m not sure if it’s because of the atmosphere or the company. But I can’t stop myself from averting my gaze from Chris. I’m looking at anything but him.
“So,” he says awkwardly, “do you still talk to Sophie?” Finally, my gaze meets him, and he looks as uncomfortable as I feel.
“Yeah. We aren’t as close as we used to be, but I see her every once in a while, when we’re both in town, and we talk maybe once a month or so. It’s been hard to keep up our friendship since her parents moved away after she graduated.”
“Hmmm,” is his only reply.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you still talk to Sophie?” God, I just want our food to come so we can eat and not have to fill the silence with weird chatter.
“No.”
And we’re back to awkward silence.
Our beers show up first, and I’m all too grateful for the momentary reprieve.
Suddenly, Chris starts laughing; I just gawk at him. What is even happening right now?
“I’m sorry, Kat. I don’t know why this is so uncomfortable. But I see the look on your face, and I know you're feeling the same way. I don’t even know why I asked you out. I guess I was just feeling a bit nostalgic or something.”
I sigh in relief at his confession.
“Let’s just eat the pizza when it comes, and then I’ll take you home, ok? No pressure. Just a couple of old friends catching up.”
“I’m sorry, Chris.”
“No, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
We spend the rest of dinner chatting about our respective jobs, our hobbies, and what we’ve been up to since graduating from high school. The conversation doesn’t come easily, exactly, but it’s better than where it started.