22. Sadie
Twenty-Two
Sadie
Three days later.
That's how long it's been since Miles said anything to me since our night at regionals. It’s been three days since the plans we had fell apart without explanation, I got one message, something came up, sorry. Then silence. No follow-up. No, can you make another date? No appearance at Grounds, I’ve not seen any of the Crawford family.
I know Lileah is still walking around campus, but she’s been keeping to herself.
I'm not thinking about it. That might be the biggest lie I’ve told myself because I'm thinking about him constantly. Ghost hasn’t made contact either.
He seems to know everything, does he know I had sex with Miles, is he angry about it?
Does he think I cheated on him? Was there anything to cheat on?
I don’t even know who Ghost is, and now I've become a one night stand for Miles.
"You have your thinking face on." Juno says, from across the corner table.
"I don't have a face." I look over at her smiling.
"You’re thinking about Miles.” I hear Maya laughing.
"I'm thinking about the new conditioning block," I say. "Coach added more sessions and I need to restructure my week." I know I can lie all I want, but they know the truth. Well half of it, they know about Miles, but not about the other man I keep thinking about.
Am I dating or sleeping with two men? Am I in a relationship? I think I’m in one and I’m cheating on them both. Oh my God, I’m going to drive myself crazy.
"Mm." Juno picks up her coffee. "And how does the conditioning block feel about Miles not showing up for three days?"
"He's busy," I say. "He has his own life. We're not… it was one cancelled plan." I fight. I didn’t want to tell anyone I had sex with him, because they were going to ask questions, and I don't have answers for them. Even I don’t know what is happening between us.
"And the three days of nothing?” Maya asks.
"People are busy, Maya." I drink my coffee and look at the door and don't think about Miles, or I try my best not to think about him.
***
It’s been another two days and silence from both of them. Which has me thinking, are they the same person? I understand one of them ignoring me, but both at the same time, that seems a little off. I just don’t think Miles seems like the stalker type.
We walk into Grounds, and I freeze, Miles is here.
Oh my God, his face. His left eye is swollen, it’s almost completely shut.
There’s a cut above his cheekbone; it’s healing but I can see it from here.
The bruising shows he has taken a beating and is several days into recovering from it.
He sits there and you can see the tension in the conversation him and Lileah are having.
Whatever is happening, Lileah is angry, and Miles looks like he’s about to lose his temper.
"Sadie." Juno touches my arm. "Come on." Her voice comes out soft, I don’t have to say it, but she can see it on my face, I want to talk to him. I want to ask him what I’ve done for him to ignore me.
We take our normal table. The corner one, close enough that I can see and hear part of the conversation, but far enough that I can pretend I'm not watching. I order without looking at the menu and keep my eyes on my phone and look over at the Miles’ table every thirty seconds and tell myself I'm not doing that.
Whatever they're saying, it's been going on for a while.
Lileah's posture has shifted, she’s leaning forward now, she’s been arguing for a while by the looks of it.
Miles shakes his head and slams his hand on the table and Lileah’s voice comes out angry. "I hate all of you."
The coffee shop goes briefly quiet around us; all eyes are on them now.
Miles's hand comes down flat on the table again. Not a slam exactly, more controlled, but with enough force that the cups rattle.
"We're doing this to protect you." His voice carries now, low and hard. "So, pack your bags and get back home. Lincoln is going with you."
Lileah says something back, but I can’t make out what it is, but if I have to guess, I’m going to say she’s telling him to fuck off. She's standing, pushing back from the table, and then she's walking toward the door.
Mason comes through it at exactly that moment. Lileah looks at him.
"Fuck off," she says, very clearly, and walks past him and out the door, and I see a man walking over to her. That must be Lincoln.
Mason watches her go, then turns to Miles with a smile. He briefly looks over at our table, where I'm sitting with my coffee halfway to my mouth and absolutely no idea what expression is on my face right now.
He crosses to Miles, leaning down he says something low that I can't hear. Miles looks up at him, then looks past him, at me. I stand up, I’ve built the courage to talk to him. I need to get some answers from him.
I stop dead in my tracks when he shakes his head. It’s one small movement. It’s not unkind, not cold. It’s just no, not now, not this.
Mason straightens. He looks at me with an expression I can't fully read, apologetic maybe, or something more complicated than that and then he pulls out the chair Lileah just vacated and sits down across from his brother.
I stand there for a moment, then sit back down.
Juno says nothing, which is the loudest thing she's ever done.
I pick up my coffee and look out of the window and think about the bruising on Miles’ face and the way he shook his head to stop me. Why is he stopping me?
***
Ghost still hasn't replied. I feel like I’ve lost the only two men I was… I stop before I say the word out loud about myself.
I sent him a message last night because I really needed to talk to someone, but nothing.
The violets are still appearing. There were fresh ones yesterday morning, the same as always, with the same care, and the same placement. He's still coming in. Still here in the most impossible physical way while being completely absent in every other way.
That disconnect sits in me like a splinter: small, precise, and impossible to ignore. I hate that Miles and Ghost are both ignoring me.
I open the contact on my phone. I read back through the conversation. The last message I sent four days ago, is still sitting there unanswered. Then I type another message.
Sadie
I know you're still there. The flowers tell me you are. I just don't know why you've gone quiet, and I don't know what to do with that.
I put the phone in my bag and go to my next class. I spend the entire lecture not hearing a single word from either of them.
I walk into my dorm, smiling at the flowers on my counter, and take my phone out when it starts ringing.
It’s Dan, I’m not sure I’m in the mood for him today, but I answer it anyway.
“Hello.” I sit on the couch.
“Hi.” His voice is different. Clearer. "I wanted to tell you something," he says. "I talked to my counselor about the money. She helped me apply for a state funded program. It’s extended residential coverage for people whose private insurance has lapsed." A pause. "It came through this morning."
I sit very still, not sure what to say to him.
"Dan."
"It means I don't need the money, Sadie. Your savings…"
"Dan."
"You should keep it, it’s yours. You should have kept it from the start. I should have done this months ago instead of calling you every time things got hard." His voice drops. "I let you be the solution because you always were. I need to stop doing that."
The back of my throat tightens.
"Why didn't you do it sooner?" I ask. I’m not angry, just curious.
"Because calling you is easier," he says. "You fix things. I've been letting you fix things since Mum and dad left and I…" He stops. "I'm trying to change that."
I look at the violets on the counter.
"Okay," I say. "That's good, Dan. That's really good."
"Are you angry?" he asks, his voice drops a little.
"No."
"You sound like you might be a little."
"I'm not angry." I'm not, there's something sitting in my chest that's more complicated than anger. I think it’s relief and something that feels like grief for years of helping him. "I'm glad about the program. I'm glad you called."
"Me too." Quieter. "I'm sorry, Sadie. For all of it."
I don't say it's fine because it wasn't always fine. I don't say don't worry because I did worry, for years, at the cost of things I didn't always have to spare.
"I know," I say instead. "Thank you for telling me."
We stay on the phone for a while after that.
He asks about Regionals, and I tell him everything.
The floor routine. The Debussy piece. The way I finally stuck the landing.
He laughs at something I say, and for the first time in a long time, he doesn't sound like the broken man I've been worrying about.
He sounds like my brother. My real brother.
I hold onto that sound long after the call ends.
Something inside me feels lighter. The weight Dan left behind is still there, but it doesn't press quite as hard anymore. The sharp edges have softened, the ache hasn't gone, but it no longer feels like it's swallowing me whole.
I look at my phone for a moment longer, pulling up my messages I take in a deep breath, and I type as I walk to my bedroom.
Sadie
I hope you're okay. Wherever you are.
Throwing the phone on the bed I get into the shower, I need a long hot shower.
***
I step out of the shower, my skin still warm and damp, and my towel is wrapped loosely around my body. Steam curls after me into the bedroom like it’s trying to pull me back, and at the moment I wouldn’t mind going back in there.
I grab some oil, and start putting it on my legs when I glance over to the laptop on my desk.
Don’t do this. You’re just going to make it worse. He ignored you for days. He left you hanging when you needed him most. What kind of person does that?