chapter twenty-eight It Was You, the Whole Time
chapter twenty-eight
It Was You, the Whole Time
The drive to Gabe’s school with Olsen is surprisingly not awkward. It’s almost as if facing my past, digging it all up, righting
my wrongs, and moving forward with a clean slate is a good thing. Who knew.
The parking lot is packed and it takes Olsen a while to find a spot. We’re running a bit behind because of all the stuff we
had to set up back at his place. In the end, though, I think it will work. At least, I hope it will.
Olsen and I bustle into the school and through throngs of people making their way to the auditorium. After checking his phone,
Olsen steers us past the open double doors and through the crowd to the dressing room, pulling the door open and holding it
for me. As soon as I step inside I spot Lex surrounded by a gaggle of parents, kids, and teachers in the middle of the long,
narrow room.
She takes my goddamned breath away. Her cropped brown hair is tousled stylishly and her clothes are loose-fitting and androgynous, suiting her completely.
Her bright blue eyes light up when they see me, and she breathes a sigh of relief.
She says something, her mouth moving, but I can’t hear her over the cacophony of all the students finishing their preparations.
Then, a little face pops up from behind a stack of props.
Gabe, wearing noise-protective ear coverings, grins widely when he sees me.
My heart swells with pride and love for this cool little kid.
I wave at him, but can’t get any closer, my route blocked by the crowd. Olsen steps up behind me and places his hand on my
lower back, then brings his mouth to my ear and tells me he’s going to save us some seats. I look up at him and smile. When
I turn back to look at Lex her expression has shifted, eyes guarded and a frown meeting her lips. She looks away quickly.
My heart sinks as I realize she thinks I chose Olsen over her.
The curse knows I’m close—so close—to being happy, so of course it’s going to do anything it can to stop me. But fuck this curse. I’m not going to let
it get in the way of my happily ever after. Pushing past the discomfort of Lex’s misunderstanding, I weave my way around all
the people until I’m finally there with her and Gabe.
After offering Lex a small smile I squat down and meet Gabe face to face. “Damn, dude! Your makeup is on point!”
“You made it!” He grins, his cheeks turning even more pink beneath the layers of blush.
“Of course! I told you I’d be here, didn’t I? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Gabe looks up at his mom. “Told you she’d be here.”
Lex had been preparing for me to disappoint him. Even though I can’t blame her, it still hurts. I swallow past that and focus
on Gabe. “You did a smoky eye! That’s incredible! I love the details you did with a little hint of green in the corners, and
using sparkles as freckles, genius—”
Gabe interrupts me with a big hug, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me so tightly I think my heart might literally burst. I don’t take lightly how rarely he expresses himself like this, so I hug him just as fiercely back, waiting for him to let go before I release my hold on him.
I sniff back proud tears and look in his bright hazel eyes, then take his little hands in mine. “You’re going to be amazing out there.”
“I know,” he says, and I laugh.
A backstage person hollers over the noise for all parents to make their way to their seats. I stand and my arm brushes Lex’s,
tingling with warmth at just the barest hint of connection. I want so badly to pull her aside and tell her everything and
make it alright—but it’s not about me, or about our future right now. Right now it’s about supporting Gabe.
After a final farewell, Lex and I follow the stream of other parents back through the hall and into the auditorium. I look
over my shoulder to Lex, but she ignores my eye contact. I can only imagine what’s going through her mind right now. I wish
I could make it all better so that we won’t have to sit through the whole play with everything looming over us, but that’s
not going to happen. Things are going to be awkward. And that’s okay.
It takes us a moment to spot Olsen, who’s standing somewhere in the middle and flagging us down. I scooch past a long row
of people until we arrive at two empty spots. In the middle of the row a guy with blond hair stands and regards me a long
moment, eyes cool and assessing.
Lex leans closer, her breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. “Aubrey, this is Gabe’s dad, Jared. Jared, this is
Aubrey, my . . .”
I look over my shoulder at Lex as she searches for the term to call me, but comes up empty. After waiting three uncomfortable
beats with Lex’s unfinished introduction hanging in the air, I offer my hand to Jared to shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a sincere smile before moving past Jared toward an older, well-dressed couple.
“Aubrey, these are my parents, Carol and Robert,” Lex says as I shake each of their hands.
“Ah! Yes, Olsen’s new girlfriend,” Carol says. She looks over her shoulder at Olsen and says, “She’s gorgeous! You two will
make such pretty babies!”
I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say, but then the curtain rises, and a hush falls
over the crowd. I’ll have to clear that up later. For now, they’ll have to go through the entire play assuming I’m with Olsen,
not Lex. And Lex will have to do the same.
After moving past Lex and Olsen’s parents, we find our two saved seats and I sit in the second one, with Olsen to my left
and Lex to my right. Both are shifting uncomfortably at the absurdity of the situation, but not me. I’m not afraid of the
curse anymore.
The play starts and Gabe takes the stage, singing and dancing and delivering his lines like he was born to it. I glance over
at Lex, her eyes shimmering with proud tears. Then, I look to Olsen, who’s wearing the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. All at
once all the discomfort of the curse, of my weird situation, and the weight of the apology I owe Lex melts away. Right now,
for this brief moment in time, none of it matters. We’re here and we’re together and we’re supporting our boy, and this moment
could not be better.
Two hours later, we’re all on our feet cheering for Gabe as he takes centre stage with the other students and bows.
My throat swells as I clap and whistle, and Gabe’s elated grin lights up his face.
He did the damn thing. And the best part about it?
All the other students seem to love him just as much as we do.
I can feel Lex relax when she sees how the other kids put their arms around Gabe, how they draw him in for hugs and offer high-fives.
Her worries about him not fitting in or making friends, of growing up and experiencing school like she did, no longer have to haunt her.
Then, the moment’s over. The lights go on, everyone stands, and people begin filtering out.
All the calm I’ve felt through the duration of the play ends with the realization that I actually have to follow through with
my plan and face Lex.
Before I do or say anything, Olsen reaches past me and tugs on his sister’s sleeve. “I’m taking Gabe for ice cream. Mom? Dad?
Jared? Want to come? We’ll head over to the house after for dinner.”
Carol tuts. “Ice cream before dinner?”
Robert belly laughs. “We’re celebrating! Besides, no amount of ice cream can ruin my appetite when lasagna is involved.”
“Lex, can you and Aubrey can go back to the house and pop the lasagnas in the oven so they’re ready when we get there?” Olsen
asks, giving me a sly wink.
Lex looks from me to Olsen and back to her parents, then agrees with a slight nod.
My heart is in my throat as we make our way out of the gymnasium. Lex is cold and distant, avoiding eye contact. Even once
we’re in the parking lot in the relative quiet of the cool late-summer night, she’s still avoiding me. Lex drives us home,
and we sit in uncomfortable silence for the entire twenty-minute drive. I so badly want to reach out, to take her hand, to
comfort her, but I don’t. The next time I touch her it will be with nothing left between us but the truth.
She deserves that much.
We park in front of the house and I follow Lex up the front steps, my heart pounding in my throat.
It all comes down to this. Everything we’ve been through together for the past few months, the joy and the fear and the elation and the sadness and the love and the heartbreak—it’s going to culminate in these next few minutes, and Lex will decide on our future.
Lex unlocks the door and steps inside, making her way to the kitchen to start the oven and throw the lasagnas in. While she
does that, I turn on the TV and take a deep breath. My heart is pounding in my ears as I listen to her open and close the
stove, set the timer, and walk back over—her steps slowing as she approaches. Her brow furrows as she looks from me to the
TV, where a PowerPoint with the title “SORRY AF” lights up the screen.
I gesture to the couch, which I’ve already prepped with a cozy blanket and a few pillows. “Please, have a seat.”
Lex’s eyes narrow slightly, but she does as she’s asked, sitting on the edge of the cushion as if she’s ready to run away
at a moment’s notice. Can’t say I blame her.
“You were right,” I begin, echoing the words back to Lex that I’d so desperately wanted to hear from her ever since we started
our curse-curing mission.
Lex’s head tilts to the side, but she stays quiet, waiting for me to continue.
“You were right about me using the curse to push people away—to push you away. You were right about my fear of commitment. I’ve been running away from my problems for so long, it’s all I’ve ever
known. You were right about me having trauma I haven’t dealt with in my past, but I’m not going to let that define me anymore.
I’m not going to run away from my problems, or hide behind the curse, or push you away. I’m going to get a therapist and work