Chapter 33 #2
My stomach drops, Eleanor’s smile faltering as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
We haven’t talked about that yet. Frankly, I’ve been actively avoiding it.
I don’t know what comes next for us. Eleanor is headed for the University of Texas, and I’ve been accepted to Texas Tech, although I haven’t decided if I’m going to enroll or not.
Working in construction this summer is the first time I’ve ever actually felt good at something.
More and more, I’ve been thinking I might be built for doing something with my hands, not studying in a classroom.
College has always been this abstract thought –I never had a dream school in mind, or a dream career, or a dream town outside of Larkspur.
I love our little corner of Texas. I like being in a town where everyone knows everyone, and we help each other out.
The thought of living somewhere surrounded by thousands of strangers makes me feel like I can’t breathe.
A steady, quiet life sounds a hell of a lot more comfortable than one that’s fast-paced and always busy.
But Eleanor’s not that way. She dreams of traveling, of not just undergrad but a Master’s program, of a career in the city. I wouldn’t ever even consider asking her to compromise any of her dreams for me.
Could I live with myself if she did it anyway?
“Well the plan has always been to leave Larkspur but, um, I’m not entirely sure yet,” she says, taking a sip of her lemonade. “I know I’m headed to UT Austin to study business admin in August, but I don’t have much figured out beyond that.”
“UT Austin!” Aunt Lizzie yells from her spot a few seats down, the table suddenly going quiet. “That’s amazing, Ellie, you must be so excited!”
“I am,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s a great opportunity.”
“What about you, Griff?” Uncle Tim asks, turning his attention toward me. “Where are you headed?”
“I’m still deciding,” I mumble. “I got into Tech, but I’ve also been working with a contractor this summer and I’m good at it. I might save myself on student loans and just go straight to working.”
“Well,” Lizzie says in a sickly sweet, fake-as-shit tone. “It’s certainly not for everyone. I’m sure you’ll find the best fit for your…talents.”
There’s a moment of awkward silence before Hunter and Harrison start arguing about football and conversation resumes again.
I try to catch Eleanor’s eye out of the corner of mine, but her eyes are fixed on her plate, and my stomach knots up, because I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding me.
I hope she knows that I’d never hold her back from anything she wants to do–I would move heaven and earth for her.
But there’s a small voice in the back of my head wondering if I’m going to be enough for her.
My appetite now nowhere to be found, I push my food around my plate halfheartedly and try not to borrow trouble before it happens.
The rest of dinner went by at an excruciating pace–at some points painfully slow, because holy shit I need to get out of here.
On the other hand, it also went too fast. Walking hand in hand with Eleanor back to the truck, I realize that a week-long dinner still wouldn’t be enough time to gear up for the conversation that’s coming.
We walk to the truck in silence, the knots in my stomach tightening with every step.
When I open her door, she gets one foot in before changing her mind and spinning back around.
She wraps her arms around my waist, face burrowing into the soft fabric of my shirt, and inhales a shaky breath.
I pull her in close, my chin resting on the top of her head while my mind tries to piece together what just happened.
When she lifts her gaze to mine, there aren’t any tears in her eyes, but there’s something there that chokes me up anyway.
Stepping up onto her toes, she whispers I love you, kissing me softly before unwinding her arms and finally hopping up into the truck.
Her hand immediately finds mine once we’ve made it down the long drive and back onto the county road that will take us home.
Neither one of us have said anything, but that’s done nothing to stop the lump building in my throat.
Everything was perfect not even twelve hours ago–why do I suddenly feel like she’s slipping away?
“Eleanor, I–”
“Please don’t,” she whispers. “Please. I know we need to, and we will, but can we not talk about it tonight? I’m just…not done being happy.”
Her voice cracks on the last word, along with my heart.
I want to scream, to beg, to plead, to do everything I can to convince her that leaving for college doesn’t have to change anything, that we don’t ever have to stop being happy.
That I love her big enough to cover any distance.
That if she’s scared, I’ll be brave for the both of us.
That if she really asked me to, I’d follow her anywhere.
That no matter what the world might throw at us, it’s me and her forever.
But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I just pull her into my side, kiss her forehead fiercely, and pretend to scratch my nose while I swipe away the single tear that spilled onto my cheek.