Chapter 4
Drew
A
bout three months into dating, Reed was walking me to class like he always did. He grabbed my hand that wasn’t holding all my books, and I smiled to myself feeling the warmth of his hand in mine.
As we passed one of the science labs, I noticed his eyes peered inside the window of the closed door. Then, he stopped walking, turned to look at me, wearing his crooked smile that always meant trouble. Without warning, he pulled me into the empty classroom before I had time to protest.
“What are you doing?!” I whisper-yelled. You could hear the amusement in my hushed voice. He pulled me into the vacant room, grabbed my books, and threw them on a nearby lab table.
“Shh! Someone’s going to hear us,” he whisper-yelled back. His face only a silhouette in the dark classroom.
“Rightfully so! You’re kidnapping me!” He couldn’t see my face, but I’m sure he knew I was smiling.
“You wish.” His face was so close to mine, I could feel his breath on my lips.
Before I could ask if he had completely lost his mind, pulling us in here where we could easily get caught and in so much trouble, he grabbed me by the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me in. His lips crashed into mine as his fingers dug into my hips. He kissed me hard and passionately, not caring that anyone could walk into the room at any moment.
But, the more I wanted to pull away, the more he was like a magnet I couldn’t separate myself from. Our kiss became deeper as he eased his hands over the back pockets of my skin-tight jeans. My hands snaked up his arms, and I wrapped myself around his shoulders pulling myself into him even more.
He was kissing me with an intensity he had never shown me before, and I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to live without it.
Reed slid his hands further down to pick me up and set me down onto the nearby table as he positioned himself between my legs. His tongue began to explore my mouth, and my fingers found their way up his neck and through his hair.
Suddenly, he pulled away. I thought maybe he heard someone coming in, but when I peeked over his shoulder, it was still just the two of us in the dark, our heavy breathing being the only noise around us.
That’s when he caught my gaze and said three words to me that had been looming in the air around us the past couple of weeks.
In a whisper that made my heart skip a beat, “I love you.”
I felt tears well up in my eyes, hearing those words said to me for what felt like the first time in my life. I repeated the same words back, “I love you too, Reed.”
My eyes were adjusted to the darkness, and I could see the most beautiful smile appear before me. I felt his hand touch the side of my face and then wrap around the back of my neck to pull me in to the sweetest kiss. A kiss that sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies off in my stomach.
“You’re mine,” he said against my lips. “Always remember that.”
As our relationship continued to grow, we finished our junior year together and had a summer fit for the movies, aside from the night I spent our anniversary crying in his lap.
We spent most of our time together working at his parent’s shop, having picnics at the local park on our days off, seeing movies, getting ice cream, and not being able to keep our hands off each other.
There was one night I heard my phone buzz from under my pillow knowing it was him on the other side. “Hello?” I answered.
“I need to see you,” he whispered to me from his bed, under the covers.
Flutters in my stomach just from the sound of his voice, I smiled so big my cheeks were going to start to hurt. I pulled myself under my own covers, so my mom couldn’t hear me whispering, longing to feel Reed’s arms around me rather than my sheets.
“Tomorrow, silly. I’ll ask my mom if I ca—.”
“Let me call you back,” he cut me off. He hung up the phone without even a goodbye.
Confused and a little disappointed our conversation ended so abruptly, I put my phone under my pillow.
That was weird, I thought to myself.
A few minutes later, my pillow started to vibrate, another phone call coming in.
“Hello?” I answered, but this time I was the only one of us still under the covers.
Reed parked his truck with the lights off down the street, and I met him behind my mom’s house at the back screen door. This was the first of many more times to follow. If I let the memories come out of hiding in my brain, I can still smell the dew in the brisk, midnight air as I opened the door to him. He would kiss me before we even said hello.
“Tomorrow felt too far away,” he said as he pulled his face away from mine to grab my hand.
We ran to his truck, muffled laughter and eager grins on our faces, and, with the windows down and music playing, we drove around under the summer night sky, soaking up every moment together before we ran out of moonlight. We parked somewhere quiet and secluded to make-out under the stars, wrapped up in each other, the adrenaline of no one knowing where we were ruminating in the air around us.
I didn’t understand what it meant to have butterflies until I met Reed. The fluttering wings of hope and young love in my stomach were a constant until they shriveled up underneath the cloud of guilt that took over my stomach when our relationship had officially run its course.
The summer faded into our senior year of high school, and we started to talk about what comes next for us because we knew that this was it.
“D, I can’t wait for our life together.” Reed was taking me home from school one autumn afternoon. Not too far into the school year, he started talking about this dream he had for us. That we would take over his family’s shop, two miles down the street from our high school—as if changing oil was really changing lives. I always loved his passion for the work he did there, even if I never completely understood it.
I enjoyed working there with him during the summer, but did I really want to do it for the rest of my life?
“My parents said the shop is mine when I’m 18. We can run it together.” I looked out the window, trying to not let myself be distracted by the smile on his face.
“What about college?” I asked.
“D, we don’t need college.” He took one of his hands off the wheel to reach over and give my thigh a squeeze. “Going from high school to a job right away, it’s like skipping a step.”
I could hear the excitement in his voice.
“You don’t want to go to college?” I asked, feeling like I had to hide the hope in my voice.
“Why would I?” He snuck a glance my way, but he wasn’t looking for an answer.
I answered anyway, “Well, what if you want to do something other than work at the shop?” My eyes traced the trees passing us as we drove.
He laughed, but I didn’t think anything I said was funny. It was a serious question, but I guess that was my answer.
The conversation ended there.
January of our senior year came around in what felt like a blink of an eye. Reed was now 18 and took over the shop from his parents. Through a program offered at our high school, his last semester of our senior year could be done working rather than in classes. It became all he talked about, never forgetting to remind me that my job would be waiting for me after graduation.
The winter faded into spring, and our graduation grew a few months closer. The more we talked about what came after graduation, the more I found myself wanting to want those things but not being able to.
Reed’s blue-gray eyes were so hooked into me, the color once seeming so clear but now reminded me of fog on a winding road, blurring my vision and muddling my sense of direction of where I wanted to go in life.
Anytime I would try to explain to him the doubt I was having, he would hit me with that crooked grin and reassure me that we were ready.
It wasn’t until I was out to lunch one weekend with Lacey where I soon realized that Reed and I were always talking about what he wanted, not me.
Lacey had just gotten her acceptance letter to the University of Madison for business, a field I had absolutely no interest in but sparked something in Lacey. It was March, over a full year since the day I met Reed. College acceptance letters were flooding the mailboxes of my peers, but not mine because I was skipping that step.
Lacey was so excited as she told me about the business school, the classes she was going to take, her potential roommate, and the dorm building she was hoping to get.
The enthusiasm in her voice was infectious, and I was so incredibly happy for her. We spent the afternoon walking the aisles of T.J. Maxx and Target, looking for potential dorm decor for her.
It wasn’t until I dropped her off at home that I felt a pang of jealousy in my chest, and that little ounce of jealousy festered inside me, growing over the coming weeks until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I decided that I wanted that.
I wanted to go to college and pick out decorations for my dorm, and pursue a degree I was passionate about.
I wanted that.
I applied to a college not too far but far enough when I got home that afternoon, not telling anyone. I hoped I had enough time to still get an acceptance letter in a few weeks.
I didn’t know what I wanted to pursue yet, so I just applied as “Undecided” when it came to my major. It wasn’t until later that I remembered my dream had never been to help manage an auto repair shop. I didn’t want to answer phone calls or run emission tests.
Ever since I was little, I wanted to be a teacher.
Even though I was being convinced otherwise.
Just applying made me feel like I was in control of my life. It was a feeling I never felt before, and it was a feeling I never wanted to let go of. After weeks of letting Reed tell me what I wanted, I was finally doing something that I knew I wanted.
Those few weeks of waiting for my answer, checking the mailbox every day when I got home, gave me some time to prepare for telling Reed that I didn’t want to work at the shop or start our future so soon. I knew he would be mad because he always seemed annoyed when I would bring up feeling a little nervous or uneasy. But, after weeks of being told I was supposed to want different things for myself, I decided I was going to do what I wanted, not what Reed wanted for me.
The week before graduation, I decided to initiate a conversation with Reed in an attempt to start the conversations about how we may want different things. I found myself scared to bring it up to him, and I didn’t know why.
He wanted to spend this upcoming summer working like we did last summer, and he even hinted about getting engaged. I knew I didn’t have time for that. I had to use my time to find a place to live, meet with my advisor, register for classes, and find a campus job. And, we were way too young.
He was taking me home from school, and it took me the first five minutes of the ride to work up the courage.
“So, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” I said, and Reed stole a glance my way. His lips wavered to the side in a slight arch before he turned his eyes back on the road. “I was talking to Lacey a few weeks ago, and she was telling me about her plans for UW-Madison. It sounds super fun, so it got me think—”
I couldn’t even finish my thought because I saw his jaw lock, his grip on the steering wheel tighten.
“Thinking about what?” He spit out. A coldness to his voice that made my blood go cold.
I hesitated, not sure if I should say anything. “I was… thinking of maybe going to college.” I couldn’t even hide the shakiness in my voice.
He laughed a humorless laugh. “C’mon, Drew. That’s not the plan. You know that.”
“It’s just a little change. I’ll keep going to school while you work. It’s kind of like what we’re doing now, right? Then, we can do all the other stuff when I graduate.”
Not even meeting my eyes, focusing on the road in front of him, his words reeking of condescendence, “You really think you’re built for college? What are you going to do without me?”
I knew he didn’t expect me to have answers to his questions.
I knew he thought I would crumble without him.
And in that moment, I thought that I might.
I knew I couldn’t keep convincing myself that this was going to work.
The day after graduation, Reed was on his way to pick me up, and my shoulders were heavy with what should have been excitement but instead was overwhelming guilt I’d been carrying for weeks. I didn’t have the nerve to bring up our conversation in the car again, and Reed pretended like it never happened.
How could I tell the guy who taught me what it means to be loved that I didn’t want to be with him anymore?
Then I thought, how can I love someone who thinks I’m nothing without him?
He came to get me at the back door, the same one I snuck out of to see him so many times before, and I couldn’t even step outside. I felt protected by the screen between us, feeling like it was shielding me from the disappointment he was about to pour over me.
I told Reed the truth and made a clean break. I got into college; I saved up enough money; I’m moving into my new apartment next month; This is what I want to do.
I didn’t have to say I was breaking up with him because that went without saying. Choosing to do what I wanted rather than what he wanted for us was the same thing in his mind.
Saying my piece and shutting the door on him, his smile crumpling before my eyes as I shot my loaded words at him. Seeing the confusion, fury, and betrayal on his face made my heart twist. And I promised myself I would never let myself see him again to avoid hurting him—and myself—all over again.
But, the joke was on me because when I left my hometown to start my journey, I would always be reminded of the feelings he, and no one else, made me feel, and I felt the wall I tried to build between us shatter.
Sitting alone in my college apartment, night after night, wanting to feel his comfort and warmth. I texted him that I missed him.
And when I did, he texted back within minutes.
Send me your address.
Within the hour, he was knocking on my door.
Being with him that night reminded me of what it felt to be 17 and in love. The feeling of no responsibilities, young love, wind in my hair, and his hand on my thigh in the front seat of his truck. That night in my college apartment was my first time, and too many times to count have followed since then, leading us to where we are today: me reaching out when the loneliness trickles in.
At 17, if you asked me where I would be at 24, I would have never said here.
Even though there are no more phone calls under the covers worthy of butterflies, the problem of me deleting his number can be easily solved.
It’s not like I haven’t seen it enough times to have it memorized.