Thanksgiving Break—Junior Year of College #2
Shortly after that, without really meaning to, I began to distance myself. During sophomore year, I’d forget to answer some of his texts after class. Wouldn’t be free to meet up for lunch in the dining hall. And most recently, Declan stayed in Indy over this past summer while I was back home.
I knew he was busy with people here, so I didn’t reach out.
Neither did he.
It was tricky to keep our friendship going when it felt like both of us were withdrawing. Though, admittedly, I was the one who vanished first.
Simply because it hurt too much.
I thought we would reconnect this fall at the start of junior year, especially at the Bulldogs Board Game Club, which has been a staple of my college experience so far.
But I’ve been scheduled for my part-time job in the package room at the exact same time as the meetups this semester.
My boss didn’t give a shit when I asked if there was any flexibility in changing that.
Just told me that I should hope it wouldn’t conflict in the spring and that next year, with more seniority, I could have more of a say in my work schedule.
I considered letting Declan know why I wouldn’t be there, but instead, I waited to see if he’d text asking where I was…and, once again, he never did. That felt like a pretty clear indication of where we’re at these days, and I hate it.
As I lie here now, all messed up in my resurfaced feelings, my phone buzzes with a new text, which I assume is my parents checking in on the car situation.
But alas, my sister couldn’t resist interfering and must have texted his brother, and now here’s Declan Weber back on my phone for the first time in a long time.
At least this means he doesn’t secretly hate me or anything.
I never thought he did, but sometimes the thoughts can really spiral in the silence.
I tap the screen and expand with two fingers to enlarge the message so I can read it more comfortably.
Declan: Hey! You need a ride home?
My stomach plunges, but even so, I can’t resist smiling like a dork at this basic message. For no good reason other than it is nice to hear from him again.
Iris: Word travels fast
Declan: In time for me to see your car towed away down Sunset
Iris: Whoa
In that case, my sister definitely messaged Grady way before she threatened that she would on our call. Because of course she did—always trying to orchestrate the plans.
Declan: So, you ready? I was going to leave like nowish
Am I all right with another road trip with Declan? That drive back from Pennsylvania feels like ages ago. Oh my gosh, I’m basically Amelia, talking about how life feels so different after going off to college, but really, who was I at eighteen? When I’d just graduated from high school?
Someone who was naive enough to think it might actually mean something if a boy kissed me.
Yet here we are, years later, and Declan is acting like this is the most casual offer in the world.
That cursed Midwest nicety is just so dang friendly it can really warp the emotions sometimes.
It’s just a ride to Omaha. I put a hand to my forehead and take a deep breath, reminding myself that he has a girlfriend.
Iris: Yeah, thanks, give me fifteen minutes
.....
After using the restroom and gathering my things, I wait for Declan downstairs in front of my dorm.
He pulls up in an SUV I don’t recognize, so he must’ve gotten it somewhat recently.
I step toward the passenger seat, but he turns off the ignition and gets out of the car.
He’s matching me in a nearly identical university sweatshirt, though his is the inverse coloring—dark blue with off-white lettering—and he’s quick to comment on this. “Great minds think alike.”
Without waiting for me to respond, he greets me with a hug. It’s not exactly awkward, but it’s so brief. I would rather we hadn’t hugged at all than be left here wishing he’d kept his arms around me a few moments longer.
“On the road again,” he says before popping open the trunk so I can throw my bag in. He’s moving fast in a way that means I can’t quite get a good, focused look at him.
“Yep.” I grin, maybe too wide, too forceful, too adamant that this is fine.
We get in the SUV, fasten our seat belts, and sit in silence as Declan plugs an address into the GPS. The suggested route is currently red, projecting a lot of traffic, likely due to rush hour, in addition to all the holiday inbound and outbound travel.
“Whew.” He leaves his phone plugged in and puts his hands on the wheel, sitting up straight. “Seems like it’ll be a while.”
“Yeah.” I nod, continuing to look ahead out the window. “We can trade off at the gas stations and rest stops and such.”
“Sure.” Declan slowly drives us past the dorm and around the circle to exit campus. “Do you have those driving glasses like your sister yet?” he asks.
I finally allow myself to glance over at him out of the corner of my eye while he’s focused on the road, only now noticing the stubble on his cheeks, the confidence in his shoulders. Is he thinking about how different I look now too? I cut my hair short, above my shoulders, since seeing him last.
“No, I still don’t,” I say. “Because my onset of symptoms was more delayed than hers, it’s continued to be a much slower progression.”
I experienced a sharp drop the last couple years, but my vision has sort of leveled out to a slow and steady decline. The doctor doesn’t anticipate me even needing to consider the driving glasses for another decade or so.
Declan nods in the sort of agreeable way where you don’t know nearly enough about the subject at hand but want to seem supportive. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize the same thing could play out so differently.”
“Neither did I.”
We go through a roundabout and merge onto the highway, slow among the city’s stop-and-go traffic. Declan turns toward me, and I’m ill-equipped for the direct attention. “You’re still all right with everything?”
“Yeah, mostly.” I fidget with my phone in my lap. “And how are things with your family?”
He lightly taps the gas to advance the car a few more feet. “My dad’s getting remarried.”
“Whoa, already?”
“Kind of fast, right? Like, not too fast, but still. Dad and Chelsea are trying to be all, I don’t know, aboveboard with it?
They had a conversation with me and Grady before getting engaged, and then also invited our mom to attend the wedding?
And she is actually planning to go? It feels polite but messy, so I don’t know. Like I said…weird.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“They gave me a plus-one,” Declan says, glancing through the rearview mirror as he merges into the next lane.
I laugh. “To help distract you.”
“I’m not sure how distracted I could be at my dad’s second wedding, but I’ll probably just go alone.”
“Not bringing your girlfriend?” I ask before realizing this makes it pretty dang clear that I’ve kept tabs on him from afar. I hope my tone was more neutral than it sounded in my head.
He taps his fingers on the steering wheel. “Um, things didn’t work out with Alison.”
That wasn’t the response I was expecting. But rather than any sort of relief, it just makes me nervous. Like I’m speeding up a mountain road with no guardrails, dangerously close to the cliff. “Sorry to hear that.”
“She was great, but we sort of realized early this summer that even though we’d been going out for a little while, it didn’t really seem to have a future.
Like, looking forward to junior and senior year and life after college, we couldn’t see each other in the picture.
” He gives a sheepish, self-deprecating smile.
“She was actually the one to say all this first, so I guess I’m the one who got dumped, but it really clicked with how I’d been feeling, even if I hadn’t realized it. ”
I haven’t been with someone long enough to experience that numb level of detachment, to somehow reach the conclusion of a relationship in a way that feels like an inevitable path forward.
“That’s tough,” I say, unsure what else to tell him in response because my brain is hyperfocused on the fact that he’s been single all semester.
Well, not necessarily. Just because he wasn’t still with that girlfriend doesn’t mean he hasn’t dated more.
Declan’s head briefly turns in my direction then back to the road as his question tumbles out of his mouth. “How about you?”
“What about me?”
He clears his throat. “Are you seeing anyone?”
A blush rises on my cheeks, but he’s watching the road, seemingly unwilling to betray his own expression right now. “Long story short: I was, and then I wasn’t.”
“Gotcha,” he says, and we both don’t say anything, until he breaks the silence. “Wanna be my plus-one, then?”
I laugh. “Declan, we haven’t talked for like two whole seasons, and you want me to go to your dad’s wedding? I’ve never even met your parents.”
“No better time than an uncomfortable family gathering.”
“I’m sure you could find someone else to take.”
“What? I know we haven’t seen each other much with school and all, but we’re still good friends, aren’t we?” He reaches to hand me his phone. “Here, you can play Taylor Swift the entire rest of the drive.”
“She’s got enough songs to cover the time.
We wouldn’t even have to repeat any.” I busy myself with changing the music, trying to ignore his ask, which is seeming more serious by the second.
It’s a relief that he’s willing to explain our lack of interactions so easily.
There really wasn’t any ill intent. Life did get busy, and I needed space because he was taking up an inordinate amount of room in my mind.
Declan clears his throat. “Iris, can I ask you something potentially awkward?”
“Oh no.” I chuckle nervously.
“Did you stop wanting to talk to me because I was dating someone?”
He went there. Let’s clarify this real quick. “Um, no, but I did kind of assume that you stopped wanting to hang out with me because you were dating someone.”