Chapter 4 #2
Looking at Ethan’s jacket, I wonder if it’s moved from this spot since that Christmas. I lift it off the hook and slip it on, wanting to feel its weight. It's a little big on me, but it’s worn in all the right places and feels warm over my chilled skin.
It's strange to think how far we’ve both come. Ethan wanted to walk in Dad’s footsteps. He attended the same school as Dad and worked at the firm Dad founded with his law school buddies a couple of years after they graduated.
I couldn’t stand the idea of becoming another Oaks at Wilde, Oaks, and Harris PLLC, so I set off on my own adventure.
After graduating from high school, I moved across the country and attended school in Seattle, Washington.
I had a job waiting for me in Columbia when I graduated.
Actually, I never intended to go to law school.
But when it came time to decide on a career path after completing my undergraduate degree, I realized that law school made sense.
Keeping his jacket on, I slowly walk further into his room and sit down on his queen-size bed. Ethan was tall, 6’3, and his bed got bigger as he did.
I feel the tears sting my eyes again as I look around the room, taking it all in but not actually seeing anything.
My gaze lands on a photo in a simple black picture frame on Ethan’s nightstand. I recognize the image from the summer when Liv and I graduated from high school.
Ethan and Sam were home from college for the summer. Liv and I wanted to celebrate by being pulled on the tube behind my parents’ boat. The four of us used to beg my parents every weekend to take us out on the boat.
I remember Mom took this photo at the end of the day.
The four of us all lined up, Liv and me in our swimsuits and the guys in board shorts.
We all had huge smiles on our faces, and our skin was sun kissed.
The exhaustion from a long day on the lake settled into our eyes. It was one of the best days I've had.
Little did I know that things would change so drastically between Sam and me just a couple of years later.
I can’t take my eyes off the photo. Off Sam.
He’s standing next to me, his arm around my shoulders. His light brown hair is cut short and appears spiky from the salt water. His chocolate-brown eyes stare straight into the camera. He’s smiling so big I can see the dimple on his left cheek.
Clutching the picture to my chest, my mind drifts to how we left things when Sam graduated from college. Me, standing in the jewelry store begging him to love me, and him saying no.
I felt pathetic even now. The way I reacted, and, if I’m being honest, still acting.
Sam tried to reach out several times after that horrible afternoon. He called and sent several text messages each day asking me to call him.
I never responded. I was too embarrassed. After a week, he showed up at my dorm room. I didn’t answer the door. I tried to stay quiet so he would think I wasn’t there.
At the end of the month, I watched him walk across the stage and get his diploma. It took everything in me not to break down in front of everyone—my heart had been shattered.
After the ceremony, he started making his way over to us, but before he could reach us, I made up some excuse and took off.
His messages continued despite my lack of response.
A month after graduation, his messages stopped cold turkey.
I kept checking my phone, hoping he would message me.
I’m not even really sure why, because I probably wouldn’t have responded anyway.
But it felt like I wasn’t drowning as much, while I knew he was still trying.
I finished my last two years and then went on to law school. Without him.
I heard from my parents that Claire said yes when he proposed to her—I cried for days after. About a year later, the wedding was off. I never learned why. I never asked, and my family didn’t tell me. I think they knew something happened between Sam and me.
Whenever Ethan brought Sam up, I quickly changed the subject or left the room. Whenever we were in Charleston at the same time, I made myself scarce.
Pathetic, I know.
I acted like a child.
Even now, knowing I should have reacted differently, should have been excited for Sam, I still can’t get the crushing weight of his rejection and embarrassment off my chest. I can’t stop his words from repeating in my mind: I was just his friend’s kid sister. He didn’t want more. He didn’t want me.
I groan slightly as I run my fingers along the picture frame in my hands. I take a deep breath and blow it back out as I set the frame back on Ethan’s nightstand, willing Sam from my mind.
Slowly, I stand up and walk toward the bookcase.
It still has the track trophies and awards he won, and so many Stephen King books.
Ethan went through a phase where he read everything Stephen King wrote that he could get his hands on, including IT and Children of the Corn.
After he read IT, he made me watch the movie with him.
I still have nightmares about that shower scene, even after all these years.
Continuing my perusal, I notice some we both have—the ones Mom insisted we read and love as much as she does—Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird and S.E. Hinton’s The Outsiders. To her credit, these are my favorite books, too.
“Stay gold, Ponyboy” is a line that lives in my head rent-free. I pick up To Kill a Mockingbird and flip through the pages, noticing some underlined passages.
Walking back to Ethan’s bed, I read through some of his notes and highlights. “Greasers will still be greasers and Socs will still be Socs,” and “Nothing gold can stay,” are among the highlights in The Outsiders.
Skipping ahead, I read the small passage of Johnny Cade’s death and his dying wish for Pony, that he “Stay gold.”
I can’t stop the tears that I’ve been holding back. Once they start, it’s like a dam has broken because they won’t stop now.