Thanksgiving Break—Junior Year of College #3
“No.” Declan doesn’t hesitate for even a second. “Not at all.”
I take a shaky breath. “Oh. Classic miscommunication, I guess.”
“You completely disappeared on me. I haven’t seen or heard from you all semester.” We’re at a standstill in traffic, and he stares directly at me. He wants to address this seriously.
With a wince, I say, “Work schedule and…”
Though I can’t see his face as clearly as I once did, I am without a doubt certain of the look he’s giving me now. One that says I know there’s more to it than that because I know you. One that reignites the hope I’ve been keeping boxed up and hidden away.
“But we were getting along so well all of freshman year. I thought maybe—”
“Okay, I’ll admit that was part of the problem,” I confess, unwilling or maybe unable to hear him say what I’m almost certain he was about to. “At least on my end. Distance was probably a good thing.”
This time, the silence prolongs far past my comfort level. For the next hour, a full album plays through as we finally escape the city traffic to smoother sailing on the open road.
Declan nods ahead to an off-ramp. “We should fill up the tank.”
We wind off the highway and to an empty station. Declan rolls down the window and talks to me from the outside as he pays for the gas. It’s noisy, but when I squint and smile apologetically, he automatically knows he needs to repeat.
Declan leans against the car door and arches an eyebrow. “All right, what if we hash this out over a Rivalry match or something? Or collaborate again and develop an expansion pack for Stops Along the Way? The publisher might be interested in that since it’s still selling boxes.”
“I can’t fully believe that people actually have our game on their shelves with other real board games.”
He nods and steps to the side to put away the pump and close the tank.
As he gets back into the car, he admits, “Alison asked me about it once and got a little weird when I told her that you and I had developed it together. Then, a few days later, she offered to alphabetize my game collection and basically pushed our game box all the way to the back.”
I cringe that he brought up his ex again. “That doesn’t seem great.”
“Looking back on it, no, it really doesn’t.”
I never met Alison, but from the light social media stalking I definitely did when they started dating—before I limited my exposure to his posts—I gleaned that they’re probably both statistics majors, so it seems likely that Declan will still have more classes with her before graduation.
Why am I feeling so jealous? Up until an hour ago, I thought they were still together, and that stirred up less jealousy in me than him talking about his former relationship now.
“Wait, did you want me to drive?” I ask before we can pull away from the station.
“Oh, sure.” Declan hops out of the car, and we walk around to swap seats, our arms brushing as we cross paths.
We settle back into the SUV, and I adjust the driver’s seat and mirrors. The traffic is dissipating even more, and we gained back an hour crossing into Central time, but our ETA is well after midnight.
“Another couple hours and then we can find some food?” I suggest.
“That sounds perfect.”
.....
We make small talk throughout the drive, the topic of wedding plus-ones and exes left many miles behind, and the ease of conversation makes it painfully apparent just how much Declan has been a missing piece in my life.
When it’s time to grab dinner, he hears my stomach grumbling and takes the next off-ramp.
“We could order in the drive-through,” he suggests. “But then eat in the car.”
“Like in the back seat or something?” I ask, not too keen to stay stuck in the SUV, although the view through the unwashed windows of this middle-of-nowhere restaurant doesn’t look particularly inviting, either. “I need a little change of scenery.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
We order, collect our food, and park beneath a streetlamp to the side of the building. Declan gets out of the car to walk around to the back while I climb over the seats to join him, having to lean forward again to grab my water bottle.
He pulls the burgers out of the bag, keeping the one without cheese for himself as he hands me the other.
“Thanks,” I say, unwrapping the paper and reaching for the next easy topic of conversation that I’m surprised we haven’t broached yet.
“How’s Grady doing? He always reminds me to vote in every possible election. ”
Declan finishes a big bite and holds a few fries in his hand as he responds. “He’s working like three different jobs at once but claims he loves it. I don’t know how he’s going to manage to avoid burnout, though. What about your sister?”
I shake my head. “Amelia doesn’t seem sure where she wants to land next summer yet.”
“There’s still time until she graduates.”
“Have you figured out what you want to do for work after we finish school?” I rush to eat more of my burger, because if there’s food in my mouth, I can at least momentarily prevent myself from referring to me and him as a we again.
“I’ve been narrowing in on scientific research, like analyzing data in the public health field most likely.”
“Interesting. I was wondering what you’d do with statistics.”
He takes a sip from his drink, nodding inquisitively. “What are you hoping to do?”
“I’m planning to go right into grad school. I like to spend my time learning.”
“I could see that. What’s been your favorite class so far?”
With a smile, I use the sign language alphabet to fingerspell the letters A, S, L. “It’s not even in my major, but my roommate Naomi and I have been taking sign language together.”
“Oh, right, I remember that.”
“It’s been cool. Naomi has some dexterity things that make using her hands difficult sometimes, but my vision makes it a little hard for me on the receptive end, so we’re in the same boat figuring it out, which is nice.
Our teacher has been helpful with showing us adaptations that make sign language more accessible. ”
“That’s awesome. You two decided to room together a third year?”
“Yep, planning for all four! She’s great. We started our own mini board game nights since I couldn’t make it to club meetups this semester. What about you? Your roommate freshman year was a nightmare.”
He makes a welp sound, leaning back against the side door. “Oh yeah, no, that turned sour real fast.”
“The guy from last year seemed nice.” I’m struggling to remember his name, though.
“Yeah, I’m still living with Aaron now. He’s cool.”
“That’s good.” I’m trying to think of more questions to ask but don’t even need to because Declan continues hyping up Aaron.
“He’s from Iowa. He kind of reminds me of you a little bit—loves to play an action card, that’s for sure.
Though you have more success with those moves than he does.
But it’s a shame we haven’t all played together yet.
We should definitely do that when we’re back from break. He asked about you a few weeks ago.”
“He did?” I furrow my brows. “About what?”
“Just, like, what you were up to since you haven’t been around.”
A confused smile grows across my face. “Are you trying to set me up with your roommate?”
Declan laughs, caught off guard. “No, but I mean, I guess I wouldn’t be opposed if that’s what it took to have you hanging around again? I mean, since you made it clear that you and me isn’t something that would ever happen.”
“You and me?” I repeat, the smile vanishing from my face. He dismissed the notion of us so pragmatically. “Is that something that was ever on the table?”
Declan’s head drops, and he wraps up his garbage, placing it back into the fast-food bag, the burger unfinished. “Well…back during freshman year, I thought maybe it was just a matter of time.”
I try another bite, but I can’t bring myself to eat anymore, either. I scrunch it up and add it to the trash, taking a sip from my water. “I’m glad I wasn’t imagining that.”
He’s trying to keep his tone casual. “Right, there was a vibe?”
We should stop skirting around the obvious. Hopefully, this will be easier to talk about if I keep it all in past tense. There was a chance we could’ve reconnected then. I hold my chin up, poised and assured. “Yes, there was.”
Declan props one leg up on the seat, resting his arm across his knee. “It could be different now,” he says, eager to immediately bring us to the present. “Like, life’s different, isn’t it? Pretty all right, even?”
I lean against the door opposite him, my legs crossed. “But shouldn’t it be possible to stay with someone during the hard times too?”
“Maybe not at eighteen?”
Head tilted, I squint. “We’re not that much older. It’d still be very easy to cut loose the second things got tricky.”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve changed a lot over the last few years.
Living in a new place, learning all sorts of things.
I think I could really show up for some—” He’s about to say someone, avoiding directly mentioning each other like I’ve been trying to, but he switches to “Could really show up for you.”
There’s no mistaking what we’re talking about. I falter with my words and mutter, “True, I’m not the same person I was back then.”
He cracks his fingers and takes a deep breath. “What if we were just meeting right now for the first time?”
“Well, that would be different…” I let my words trail off, unsure how much I should reveal here.
“How would it be that different?”
I cross my arms, too, hugging them tight to my chest, balling up to make myself as small as I feel. “Because, Declan, I know you, and I trust you, but for some reason, the one thing that trust can’t extend to is trusting that you wouldn’t immediately break up with me again.”
He considers this, running his thumb beneath his chin, his brow furrowed with concern.