Chapter 28
REID RATHE
I rub at my eyes and slap my cheeks, trying to get myself to wake up.
Tomorrow will be a full week that Avery and I haven’t been together.
The days bleed into the night, and I no longer know what day it is.
If it wasn’t for Jacob, I wouldn’t be sitting here in Spanish class.
He’s really stepped up these last few days, coming over often to be the buffer between me and Dustin.
Dustin’s slowly starting to talk to me again. More like, “Do you have grocery money?” or “Can you pass me the remote?” Little things, but it’s progress, and knowing I didn’t lose him forever at least gives me room to breathe.
I haven’t told my parents about Avery, and I don’t plan to.
Ever. I won’t give them the satisfaction of knowing that I’m going through another terrible heartbreak.
I’ll never hear the end of it, and then my mother will try to continue with the wedding.
Just because Avery and I are no longer together, doesn’t mean I want to marry Dorothy.
Hell, at Jacob’s party, she admitted to not wanting to marry me also.
So, to keep that part of my life behind me, I’ve decided to never tell my parents. I gave Avery all of me, and in the end, it wasn’t enough.
Jacob and I are sitting in our usual spot in Spanish, and I tap my pen as I watch the door for Avery to come in.
I just want a glimpse. I just need to see her.
It’ll be enough to tide me over until next week.
It has to be. And when the class ends indefinitely at the end of the semester?
I can’t even think about that. She was it for me. I’ll always want her.
The lecture hall doors open at the same time the professor stands at the podium and begins the class. But I can’t pay attention to that because Ivy and Avery sneak into the class and take seats in the back row.
I crane my neck to look at her. Her hair is in a messy bun, her sweatshirt is stained, and she looks like she hasn’t slept in days.
She’s also lost weight, and that kills me, knowing she’s suffering as much as me.
I don’t know what I expected when I saw her again, but I don’t wish her to suffer.
I want her to be happy even if it’s not with me.
The professor continues to rattle on, but I keep sneaking glances behind me. Not once does she look in my direction. Not once does she acknowledge that I’m sitting here. I get it. It probably hurts too much. Hell, I can feel the pain wash through my own body.
After a while, I notice that her laptop hasn’t been opened. She’s just staring straight again, rigid.
I grab my phone from my backpack, open it up, and send her a text.
Baby girl, you’re not taking care of yourself.
I can hear her phone vibrate from down here.
She picks it up and glances at the screen before setting it back down.
I’m used to the unanswered texts. I can deal with them.
What I can’t deal with is the lack of expression, the lack of emotion.
She’s blocking them off, closing herself off to numb the pain.
Nibbling on my lip, I turn back to the professor. Minutes tick by, and I hear the lecture hall door shut. I turn back around and find the seat next to Ivy vacant. Ivy catches my eye, and her lips turn down in a sympathetic expression.
Every part of me wants to chase after her. Wants to hold her. Wants to tell her that we’ll get through this, but instead, I stay seated. It would just make things harder, and I don’t want this to be any harder than it already is.
ONE MONTH LATER…
Me
I’m thinking about you today. I think about you every day.
Sitting on the couch in my apartment, homework in my lap, I stare at the screen, at the text I sent an hour ago that’s still gone unresponded to. I know she reads them, but she never responds.
Aside from Spanish, I haven’t seen her for a month. Not even in the hallway. She goes to class and stays home. I’ve talked to Ivy about it, making sure she’s eating and getting fresh air, and she always assures me that she’s taking care of her and that she’ll be like this for a little while.
Dustin comes out of his room, rubbing at his eyes. He stops in the hallway, and I look up at him. He just woke up from a nap, and his hair is in disarray. “You look like shit, dude,” he says as he takes me in.
Every day that passes, he says more and more to me. He’s even starting to go to the gym with me and Jacob again, a fact I’m grateful for. I still have my best friend even if it came at a great cost. We aren’t the same, but at least we’re headed in the right direction.
“Yeah,” I say, scrubbing at the stubble that I barely bother to shave these days. I saw myself in the mirror this morning after I showered. I have dark circles under my eyes and have contemplated finding a remedy for that, aside from sleep, just so I don’t look like such a mess.
He steps farther into the room, a look of guilt on his face, and I almost think he’s going to say something heartfelt, but instead, he points at the TV. “Want to watch some football?”
I watch him and wonder at the guilt before I shake it off and move my textbooks aside for him to sit. “Sure,” I answer. He takes a seat next to me and crosses an ankle over a knee. “You okay?”
He nods. “Yeah. You?”
No, I want to answer. But instead, I grab the remote and say, “Yeah.”