Chapter 12
Ellie
Imight be the first teenager to ever say this, but I can’t wait for summer to be over.
I’m spending today the way I’ve spent the entire first month of break–alone.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I look out at the still surface of Larkspur Lake from the bench I usually occupy with Abby.
I’ve been avoiding her–and everyone else–since the nuclear fallout that occurred the last week of school. I’ve been stuck in an endless loop of emotions I don’t know how to untangle.
First there’s the anger, so visceral sometimes that I can’t stop shaking. Then comes the confusion, which always ends with me taking Tylenol to counteract the massive headache that comes when I try to pinpoint how I missed what they were doing.
But the sadness, the loneliness, the absolute misery is debilitating. Some days I can’t find the energy to drag myself out of bed, so I tell my parents I’m just taking a day to stay home and read.
I haven’t cracked a single book open–but I could draw every crack on my ceiling from memory now.
I haven’t told Abby. I haven’t told my mom either.
Every Friday at the diner, I tell Abby to go ahead, that Jack is running late but he’s on his way.
Then I walk down to the lake park entrance, and sit in silence until it starts to get dark, when I make my way over to the coffee shop in my neighborhood.
I sit there until closing, and by the time I walk back home I know that my parents are asleep, and this is a believable hour for me to come home on a Friday night during summer.
I don’t know why I haven’t told them–they’re usually the first two people I tell about anything and everything.
But something about this feeling is so foreign, and so lonely, that I wouldn’t know how to begin to describe it.
And it feels more daunting trying to explain something I know they won’t understand.
So I sit here, alone, again. I can feel myself putting up walls, collapsing into myself, but I can’t stop it. All I do is replay that scene over and over in my mind until silent tears run familiar tracks down my face.
I sit, with no one but the birds playing in the water to keep me company, and hope that no one stumbles across me and asks how I’m doing.
I think if someone asked me that question at precisely the wrong moment, I would fall apart and never be able to put myself back together.
The worst part of everything isn’t the anger or the betrayal. It’s how much I miss him. I can control the rage, and I’m no stranger to melancholy, but missing him is the part that makes me feel like a belt is tightening around my chest and I can’t do anything to get it off.
Unfolding my arms and stretching my stiff limbs, I slowly stand up, peeling the back of my thighs off the bench they adhered to in the summer heat. No plan for the rest of my day–or for anything, really. It’s just me and my thoughts on my walk home.
***
Sitting in my reading chair, staring out my bedroom window, I’m feeling very ‘Bella in New Moon’ right now. I always thought she was being melodramatic, but I get it now.
I don’t bother even looking at my screen when my phone rings once, then twice, then a third time. When it dings again with a text, I finally check it in case Abby needs something. My heart drops into my stomach when I see that it’s from Jack, not Abby.
At first I consider just deleting the text without reading it, but morbid curiosity gets the better of me.
Jack: Ellie, can we please talk?
What even is there to say? I can’t imagine any sort of explanation or apology that would make things even fractionally better.
Ellie: No.
Tossing my phone over my shoulder onto my bed I go back to watching the blue jays at the feeder in the backyard.
A barrage of non-stop notifications eventually irritates me enough to get out of my chair. Snatching my phone off my bed, I flop down on my stomach and read the five additional texts that just came through.
Jack: Please Ellie
Jack: Come to lunch with me
Jack: Just give me an hour
Jack: I won’t even bring him up, I just want to apologize
Jack: I miss you
It’s the last text that gets me. I might miss Jack the most–holding a grudge against him has taken the most effort since he was the least involved in the whole debacle. Letting my loneliness get the better of me, and against my better judgment, I finally reply.
Ellie: Fine. I’ll meet you at The Park.
Jack: Can I pick you up?
I consider it for a moment, but I don’t want to risk any chance of being held hostage if I decide I don’t actually want to hear what he has to say.
Ellie: No. I’ll meet you there in 20.
I change into a t-shirt and shorts that I haven’t been wearing for three days straight, and head downstairs to ask my dad if he’ll give me a ride.
Twenty minutes later, I see Jack’s truck in the parking lot before I see him. Before I get out of the car, my dad gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m happy to see you out of your cave, Ellie Bellie. I was starting to get a little worried.”
I attempt a reassuring smile and respond, “I’m okay dad, just feeling a little more introverted this summer. No need to worry.”
With a quick kiss on his cheek, I tell him I’ll call when I’m ready to be picked up. Then, with knots in my stomach, I nervously walk deeper into the park to find Jack.
I spot him at a picnic table in front of the grilled cheese truck, and he looks up at me with a tentative smile and a wave.
“Thanks for coming,” he says, a little timidly.
Good, he should be nervous.
I nod, taking a seat on the bench across from him, focusing on the wood grain of the table so I don’t have to look at him. I’m afraid I’ll start crying if I do. When he doesn’t say anything else, I try to mask my sadness with anger as I look up and demand, “Talk.”
“I don’t even know where to begin, Ellie. I’m sorrier than you could imagine. If I thought they were actually going to follow through on that stupid bet I would have kicked their asses.”
Now my anger is real. “So you did know about it the whole time then.”
It’s his turn to stare down at the table, looking truly ashamed.
Again, good.
“I did,” he admits quietly. “I had no idea it’d go that far. I know they’re idiots, but I didn’t think David was taking it seriously anymore. Not when things changed between you and Griffin. ”
Even the brief mention of Griffin makes me freeze, a muscle in my jaw twitching as I clench my teeth.
When I don’t reply, he continues on, “I don’t ever expect you to forgive Gr–us. I know you told us to fuck off, but I couldn’t take it anymore.”
My rage falters briefly when my typically composed deadpan friend (ex-friend?) looks up at me with tears in his eyes.
“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” he says in a whisper so low I can barely hear it over the noise of the trucks and lunch-goers.
“I miss you all the time. These have been the most miserable few weeks of my life–I thought we’d be having fun all summer long, but now it’s just me and my granny watching Jeopardy and making casseroles. ”
I roll my eyes and look away. He can’t be serious.
“Oh stop it, I’m sure you guys have gone back to your normal unholy trinity bullshit.”
“No, we haven’t,” he counters earnestly. “I haven’t seen either of them. I’ve been just as pissed at them as you have.”
My eyebrows skyrocket at the audacity of that statement.
“Okay not as pissed, but I am furious. They fucked up, and now everyone is suffering.”
I meet his eyes again, and the walls I’ve put up crumble a bit at the look on his face. He’s got hollow circles under his eyes, and it looks like he hasn’t gotten a haircut since school let out. He’s looking much less “Kennedy” and much more “Tim Burton.”
“I miss you too, Jack,” I say gently, deciding to extend an olive branch. “I think we can probably be friends.”
His shoulders drop with relief as he runs a hand down his face.
“But I have conditions.”
“Anything you want, Ellie.” I fight the smile trying to form on my face. He sounds so excited, and he suddenly looks 5 years younger, but I can’t let him off the hook that easily. Not just yet, anyway.
“I don’t want to hear about them at all. I don’t care how sorry they are, or how much they miss me.”
Yes I do.
“And I don’t want them to know that we’re hanging out. I swear to God if you try to ambush me–”
“I won’t, I promise,” he says firmly. “Like I said, I haven’t seen them either. I just want my friend back.”
It’s so terrifying to consider letting even one of them back in my life that I almost consider taking it all back, but his puppy dog eyes, so sad and heartfelt, eliminate the last of my defenses.
“Okay,” I say with a genuine smile.
“Okay,” he says back, with a bigger grin than I’ve ever seen from him. “How have you been?”
My smile immediately drops, and his eyes go wide with panic.
“That was a stupid question, forget I asked,” he stammers hurriedly.
“No, it’s okay,” I say with a wave of my hand. “It’s been hard. I’ve been really lonely.”
It hits me how true those words are as I say them out loud. I don’t think I’ve ever been lonely in my whole life–I’ve always had Abby, or my parents, or any of the other classmates I made friends with throughout the years.
Even though I know it’s objectively not true, this is the first time that I’ve ever felt like I’ve got no one.
A hot pressure builds behind my eyes and I’m horrified to realize that if I don’t stop talking, I’m going to cry.
Shoving those feelings down as far as they’ll go, I quickly change the subject.
“Anyway, I don’t really have anything interesting to share. What’s been going on with you?”
We sit there and catch up for what must be hours, because my dad calls to ask whether I’ve been kidnapped or simply decided to run away from home.
With a laugh, I let him know I’m fine and that Jack will give me a ride home. His face lights up when he hears that, and a tiny ray of light breaks through the cloudy gloom in my heart.
It feels wonderfully familiar to be back in Jack’s passenger seat as we take the long way home. I look out the window to hide my smile–I don’t want him to know that I’ve clocked the route he chose. He’s not the only one savoring the few extra minutes together.
When we reach my house, he gets out to give me a hug–it’s full of regret, relief, and love all at once. As I walk up the path to my front door, I’m on the verge of tears again, but this time, they’re happy ones.