Chapter 31
Karla
I missed Ash every day after he moved to North Carolina.
I wondered if this was how Dad felt when Ellie moved away when they were teenagers.
It felt like losing the sunlight. But we did our best to stay in contact.
Plus, his parents set it up where he’d come stay with his father during the summers, so I’d get to see him a bit more.
I was thankful for that. I wasn’t ready for him to be completely out of my life.
Dad switched me to a homeschooling program, which helped me a lot. I couldn’t bring myself to go back to school and interact with the people who made my life a living hell. Ellie helped with the homeschooling, too, making sure I was never alone at home.
I was grateful for how everyone surrounded me with love, letting me know that my struggles weren’t something that I had to shoulder on my own.
Still, I missed Ash.
It felt as if he and I were floating in the in-between of being friends and being something more.
I wanted to know what more would look like for the both of us, and he said he wanted to know, too.
We decided it was best to talk about it in person when he came up to visit his father for spring break.
Whenever I thought about that talk, the one taking us from friends to more, I’d get a new wave of butterflies.
I’d love to be Ash’s girl. Not only because I adored him, but I knew that he adored me, too. The good, the bad, and the scars. I didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than me with him. And that was the best feeling in the world.
I was counting down the days until his visit.
* * *
One night, when I had a bad flare up, Ash called me as I sat in the bathtub trying to soak away the pain, and he read me chapters from the novel I was currently reading after downloading it on his library app.
He started reading to me twice a week whenever I took my baths.
With ease, he was becoming my favorite bedtime story.
* * *
On a random Saturday in March, I got a box delivered to the house. It had Ash’s name on it. I quickly opened it up and then found a Post-it note sitting on top of a wrapped-up box. The note read: FaceTime me when you get this before opening the box.
I FaceTimed him right away.
“Oh, hey you,” Ash said with a smile. Gosh, he looked so handsome. I loved when we did video calls. Whenever I could see him, I loved it.
“Hey. What is this?” I asked.
“A gift.”
“It’s not a holiday or a birthday,” I said, confused.
“It’s a Saturday-in-March gift,” he replied. “Open your Saturday-in-March gift.”
My cheeks heated up from his sweet grin. Gosh, his lips looked so . . . kissable. I wondered what kissing was like. I read about it in books, but I wanted reality. I wondered what it would be like to kiss a boy like Ash.
I opened the box, and I gasped as I pulled out a vinyl record. Diana Ross and The Supremes, the greatest hits album. Mom’s favorite.
“Ash . . .” I murmured, as tears filled my eyes.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
His sweet grin stayed in place as he effortlessly said, “I love you, too.”
I didn’t know what kind of love it was. Was it a friendly love? Was it a romantic love? I didn’t know the answer to those questions, but in the moment I didn’t care.
Ash Banks loved me. And I loved him back.
* * *
Ash and I talked all the time, going back and forth about our dreams and goals.
We talked about our future and how one day he’d get a cat named Rolls, and I’d get one named Royce, in honor of Rian, whose favorite car was a Rolls-Royce.
Ash told me that once his father took Rian to a car show, and his brother fell in love with a Rolls-Royce.
Rian took dozens of photographs of the cars and hung them in his bedroom.
I asked Ash if they still had the pictures, and he said yes, that they were still hanging in Rian’s room.
He then told me he’d show me one day, but he wasn’t strong enough to go into that room yet.
Ash was also the only person outside of my family who ever called me to check in on how I was doing. I didn’t know why, but a part of me thought Missy and Brian would feel guilty and come to visit me at some point, but they never showed up.
I had to make peace with letting them all go. It was easier because I had Ash in my life. He had a way of making things feel better, just by talking to me.
I’d sit in my closet, surrounded by my mom’s love, talking to him late into the night. Sometimes, Dad would find me sleeping in my closet with Ash still on the line, and he’d tell him good night.
I found myself lying in bed often thinking about spring break and Ash and me.
I wondered if we’d be shy about the possibilities of what it would look like if we explored being more than friends.
I wondered if I’d be too embarrassed to kiss him or embarrassed to even hug him, even though I wanted to do both of those things.
I wanted to kiss him as he hugged me, and I wanted to do it again and again.
I prayed for more than friends. I prayed for more of us.
Sadly, my prayers must’ve been lost in the wind, because the dream of more with Ash was shattered before we even had a chance to see each other again.
The week before Ash was set to come visit for spring break, he called me late one night. I answered, and he was quiet on the other line. “Hello?” I asked again.
“Hey, Karla. Sorry to call so late . . . it’s just . . .” Ash’s tone made my heart skip a few beats. He sounded heartbroken as he spoke to me. “It’s my dad.”
“What about him?”
“He died.”
My mind couldn’t wrap around his words. I gasped as I held the phone to my ear. “Oh my goodness, what? What happened? How? Are you OK?” I began to spiral, feeling unsure of what I could do for him.
“There was a conflict on one of his calls at work. He ended up getting shot on the scene, and he didn’t make it.
His partner, Chase, was with him and . .
.” Ash’s words faded off. I didn’t know what to say or what to do.
I felt as if I was too far away to help, when all I wanted to do was give him a hug.
“I’m so sorry, Ash. I can come down there to visit you. I can come to you, I can—”
“Let me call you back,” he whispered as he choked on a sob. “I’ll call you back.”
The way he said it made me hesitate. He sounded so heartbroken that I wasn’t sure how to make him feel better at all. I wasn’t certain there was anything I could do to fix him, to fix the situation. All I knew was that he was breaking.
I remembered what that felt like when Mom passed away—like all the air in my lungs was knocked out of me. It felt like drowning. So the moment Ash came back to Chicago, I needed to be there for him.
I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—let him drown.